The Near Miss Read Free

insurance details into their mobile phones. Melody had handed the child to her mother and everyone sighed. Death had blown through them like a cinder-laden wind on a bushfire day, but he had missed his chance.
    â€˜Nice train.’ The man blinked in the glare of the hospital lights, cheeks pink with sleep. He was tall and lean, his head cut back to the one-degree shave favoured by balding men of her generation. She envied anyone who could fall asleep where they chose. It showed an admirable level of comfort in your own skin. His stooping posture indicated that he was one to lean towards the world, as if curious and concerned about it. Even his bent nose followed his forward lean. His suit pants were too loose, and higher than was fashionable, like those of an older man. He had been quick to run from his car, the one to comfort the mother and take them to the hospital.
    She held out the train and he took it, and tried the key.
    â€˜It doesn’t work,’ he said.
    â€˜I know. I bought it on eBay.’
    â€˜I think I could fix it.’
    She shrugged. ‘We like old things.’
    â€˜Old doesn’t have to mean broken.’ His big fingers pushed the coupling rods so the wheels turned. Melody leaned her head back and exhaled. Her father had been like this, trying to fix everything. If she opened her eyes just a narrow slit, she could see the cash peeking from the man’s coat pocket.
    There really were a lot of fifties there. He couldn’t possibly need them all.
    â€˜You must be hot in that jacket,’ she said.
    He smiled and absently shrugged off the jacket. He laid it on the seat between them.

    Grace stood at the door of the waiting room and watched these three strangers, man, woman and child, and breathed a fresher air than the air she had left behind in the ward, where blue face masks and plastic tubing absorbed all the oxygen. Around them here, families gathered in little clumps, some staring at her with surly envy. They wanted in. Children wailed and coughed and grizzled. Grace went over to the man and woman.
    â€˜She’s going to be okay,’ she told them. ‘She’s strained a ligament and bruised her foot. But it’s relatively minor.’
    â€˜Lucky,’ said the woman. She had extraordinary blue eyes.
    â€˜Lucky you were there,’ said Grace steadily. ‘What’s your name?’
    â€˜Melody. We just moved here last week. From up north.’
    â€˜Where up north?’
    â€˜A commune. Tuntable Falls. Have you heard of Nimbin?’
    â€˜Of course,’ said Grace. Drop-out ’sixties scene, up in the rainforest mountains. Explained the dreds. ‘I didn’t think there was anyone up there under sixty.’
    â€˜Plenty,’ said Melody. ‘Their kids.’
    â€˜You grew up there?’
    â€˜No, here. Donvale. Most boring suburb in the world. Probably why I fled to Nimbin as soon as I could.’
    Grace nodded. ‘Well, I for one am glad you came back! Hey, do you think you could both come for dinner one Saturday night? My husband Tom and I, and Lotte, we live just near the ice-cream shop. We would like to say thank you.’
    The man beamed and looked absolutely delighted. ‘Can I bring my girlfriend?’
    â€˜Of course.’ She looked at Melody. ‘Do you want to bring someone? Besides your son?’
    â€˜Uh. Maybe.’
    â€˜Is your car alright?’ It was the polite thing to ask, although Grace could not have cared less about the car. I do hope my child’s body didn’t dent your fender?
    Eddy blushed. ‘It’s fine. We drove here in it, remember? From the scene of the crime.’
    â€˜Oh, yes. Sorry.’
    â€˜So to speak. Wasn’t really a crime.’ The man spoke hastily, as if sensing Grace’s burning guilt, and the two women turned as one to study him for a moment.
    â€˜I’m so sorry,’ he said, his hand on his heart.
    â€˜It wasn’t your