Allison decides to stay young and drives a taxi in her spare time. But one day her passenger becomes her friend’s husband. When she delivers the man to his destination, he asks her to take a detour, revealing a side of him she never knew she had. Allison then has to decide what to do next: do her job well and protect her friend or help her discover the truth.
Driving a taxi at age 65 was not part of my retirement plans, but it has become my passion. I worked as a writer for a women’s columnist for most of my career, and since retiring I’ve only written a few articles a month.
‘Just something to keep the old clogs working,’ my editor Elena said when I informed her that retirement was knocking on my door. ‘You don’t have to commit to it, Allison. It can be freelance work, if you prefer it that way. But just write for us from time to time.’
I agreed, because what else was there to occupy my time?
But then the open road, the hum of the engine and the stories of my passengers kept me busy.
‘Mum, why?’ – My son Darren asked me. ‘Seriously? To drive people around?’
‘You’ll understand the need to do something free when you’re older, son,’ I told him. ‘Let me do it while I still can. What’s better than enjoying what I’m doing?’
Yesterday was one of those days I’ll never forget because it reminded me how mean people can be.
The previous day I had received a call from one of my regular clients, Jane. She was a cheerful 55-year-old woman, and over the years we had become friends.
‘Hi, Alison,’ she said over the phone. ‘I need a favour.’
‘If it’s about those croquettes and peas you’re trying to get me to eat, I’m not agreeing,’ I grinned. ‘What do you need?’
‘Mike is leaving on a trip tomorrow and he needs to be taken to the airport. I’ll be babysitting my granddaughter, so I don’t want to disrupt her routine.’
‘Sure,’ I replied, always willing to help.
The next morning I pulled up to their house and waited. Moments later, Jane came running out with a baby in her arms and waved at me, letting me know that Mike would be out soon.
Eventually Mike came down the steps, his suitcase dragging behind him as he slid into the back seat.
‘Good morning,’ I said, trying to be polite.
I knew of Mike, but we’d only met once at their Christmas party years ago. I doubted he even remembered me. He’d always given me the impression of someone who didn’t care about other people unless they added value to his life.
‘He’s very reserved,’ Jane had said at the party, pouring me a glass of eggnog. ‘But he’s a sweetheart as soon as he lets you in the house.’
‘Straight to the airport?’ I asked, adjusting the rearview mirror as Mike settled into his seat.
‘Yes, but first we need to make a quick stop to meet someone,’ he replied. ‘I’ll direct you. You can just add that to the itinerary and I’ll pay you at the airport.’
That struck me as odd, but I didn’t think anything of it. It was probably a co-worker. Jane didn’t say why Mike was leaving.
But as I pulled up to the address Mike had given me, my stomach twisted. There, standing on the curb, was a young and beautiful woman who glowered when the car slowed down.
Mike got out of the car, and there was a sudden energy in his calm demeanour.
‘Hi, honey,’ he said, enclosing her in a hug.
‘You finally got rid of your old hag!’ – grinned the woman, letting Mike kiss her full face. ‘At least we’ll have one weekend free of her. Remind me again why you’re not leaving her?’
Mike chuckled and picked up her suitcase.
‘Because the house is in the old lady’s name, Nicole,’ he said. ‘And I need to be smart. If one of us is unfaithful, the other will walk away with everything. But if we decide to dissolve the marriage by mutual consent, then everything will be divided.’
‘Yeah, you’ve told me that before,’ she said, getting into the car. ‘And I’m not stupid.’
Oldie? Oldie? My friend was energetic and trim. She didn’t deserve this. Rage bubbled up inside me.
How could I let this man get away with this? Could I really leave it at that and drive him to the airport?
Was there any way I could keep this from Jane?
I struggled with my thoughts, but in the end my conscience was fuelled by the continuation of their nasty conversation in the back seat. Not to mention the fact that Mike kept groping Nicole every chance he got.
I turned on the radio, hoping that the music and the fact that they were engrossed in each other would dull their senses to reality.
Twenty minutes later, Mike looked up and realised where we were. We were back where we had started this whole epic from.
‘What, why are we here?’ yelled Mike from the back seat.
I screamed when he spoke; my car alerted Jane to come outside.
‘Didn’t you ask me to take you home?’ I replied, feigning innocence. ‘You kept mentioning home. I guess I was wrong.’
At that moment Jane came out of the house, a look of confusion on her face. She saw Mike and the woman, and her expression changed to shock and then to anger.
‘What’s going on here?’ asked Jane.
‘Jane, things are not what they seem. Nicole is coming with us too. I did her a favour by coming after her, didn’t I, Alison?’ – he said.
‘Did you?’ Jane’s voice shook with rage. ‘It’s not what it looks like. It looks like you cheated on me with that woman!’
Nicole smirked from her seat.
‘Well, now you know,’ she said. ‘Mike’s been with me for months.’
Jane’s eyes flashed as she turned her attention back to Mike.
‘After everything we’ve been through, you decided to do this?’ – She asked.
‘Jane, I can explain,’ Mike pleaded.
‘Leave it alone,’ Jane cut him off coldly. ‘Get out of my friend’s car and find your own way out of here.’
She turned to me, leaning against the car window.
‘Thank you, Al,’ she said. ‘Thank you for showing me the truth.’
‘Anytime, Jane,’ I said. ‘You deserve better.’
She turned to Mike again.
‘I want you gone by the end of the day. If you decide to go travelling, I’ll call the kids and have them take your things out. Don’t forget that because of your infidelity, darling, you will get absolutely nothing from me.’
‘Jane,’ Mike pleaded again. ‘Let’s talk about this. This little thing isn’t serious. Nicole and I don’t have anything serious going on. It was just a little fun.’
‘No,’ Jane interrupted, her tone resolute. ‘Enough talk. It’s over.’
As I drove away, Jane waved me off with a sad smile on her face.
I hadn’t expected such a chore to turn into an episode that would expose my friend’s husband cheating with a younger woman. But I was glad I hadn’t turned a blind eye to the truth. Jane needed to know, and I was grateful that I was the one who had helped her find out.
Now I was sitting at the kitchen table, a bowl of soup beside me, and I was preparing an article for the column. I planned to write about men and cheating right under our noses. Always clearly disguised under the guise of a business trip or a trip to visit a sick relative.
Always the same thing.
What would you do?
