Ask Me for Tomorrow Read Online Free PDF

opened them, he looked off into the middle distance. ‘I remember . . . a different life.’
    Dean didn’t hurry into work following Bree’s birthday gathering. He got the kids ready for school and dropped them off, but then he went for a long drive. He used the time to clear his head and reflect, and arrived at the garage in time to do a scheduled service after lunch.
    It had been an indulgent morning, and one that could probably have been better spent inducting his new employee, but he’d needed a bit of space.
    When he’d first gone in to speak with Alice she’d been out getting food. Then she’d been with a customer, then on the phone. Now it was almost the end of the day and he’d yet to see how she was faring and gauge the mood between them. He wanted to assure her that her job did not depend on whether or not their kids got along, but he was still waiting for the chance.
    A short time later, Dean was up to his elbows in kerosene when he realised he had a shadow. He straightened and looked over his shoulder. A boy stood a metre away, hands in the pockets of his school pants, the heels of his black shoes in the only puddle of grease Dean had yet to cover with sawdust. He looked like Alice in the nose and mouth. The eyes were somebody else’s, brown and fringed with long lashes, but Benjamin Jaye had his mother’s colouring. His dark blond hair was a few weeks past needing a cut and his school jumper had a pull in the left sleeve. The bruise around his eye had paled.
    ‘Ben, right?’
    The boy nodded.
    Dean debated for a moment about how to introduce himself, but he’d never been one for too much formality. ‘Dean. Nice to meet you properly.’
    ‘What’re you doing?’
    ‘Washing dirty tools in a kero bath.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Kerosene gets the grease off.’
    When Ben’s eyes stayed on the thread-chasing tap in Dean’s hand, Dean supposed it wouldn’t be rude to keep going with his task. He held the tap under the steady amber stream of kerosene and rubbed his thumb along the grooves which had removed grime and thread sealer from the bolt holes of an engine block. A moment later, he turned the kero pump off, rested the tool on the edge of the sink and washed his hands.
    ‘How was school?’ he asked his audience.
    Ben blinked and met Dean’s eye. ‘Okay.’
    ‘You’re hanging around here until your mum finishes for the day, are you?’
    ‘Yeah. What’re you doing?’ The boy glanced around the shop, his eyes touching on the various cars, hoists, barrels and tools cluttering up the space. ‘Can I watch?’
    Dean lifted his chin a fraction. ‘Sure.’ He was probably doing Alice a favour, watching Ben as she wrapped up for the day, and it was always fun to show someone around the shop. A kid especially, because not enough of them were interested in trades nowadays. He also couldn’t deny himself the opportunity to speak with the kid who’d been involved in Rowan’s first – and hopefully last – fistfight.
    He crossed the workshop floor to the open hood of a Ford Focus, and Ben followed. Standing at Dean’s elbow, closer than he had before, Ben looked at the various parts of the engine with interest. ‘What’re you doing?’ he asked again.
    ‘Replacing a head gasket. It’s an easy enough job – takes time and care, though. So listen, how’s that eye going?’
    ‘It’s okay. What’s that?’
    Dean squeezed the trigger of the tool he’d just picked up and it whined noisily. ‘A rattle gun. A hundred times quicker than a ratchet. I used a torque wrench on those bolts, though, because this has too much power and it can stretch them.’
    ‘That’s the noise you hear in garages on TV.’
    Dean considered this. ‘Yeah, I guess it is. It’s a pretty common thing for mechanics to use.’
    Ben nodded and Dean sensed he’d gained a bit of ground. Maybe a bit more shop talk and he’d be able to get Ben to open up about yesterday’s big mystery.
    ‘See these bolts