The Gin O'Clock Club - Rosie Blake Page 0,37

with Howard, more a man of the world . . . Of course not Howard, you weirdo.’ He turned back to the window and jabbed the glass. ‘The car – the amazing vintage sports car that Howard stores in his garage for most of the year and he has loaned us for the day. Lottie Campbell, we are heading to the countryside.’

His face was animated, his grin wide as he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door, Howard still leaning on the horn outside.

‘But you don’t know how to drive,’ I stuttered, scooping up my handbag.

‘But you do,’ Luke said, bundling me out of the door. ‘Do you have everything you need? Sunglasses, mobile and maybe one of those neck-tie things ladies wear in convertibles? Like Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday?’

‘You know if I wear a necktie I won’t magically turn into Audrey Hepburn.’

‘Look, the necktie would be a start,’ he said, laughing as I pushed him. ‘Seriously, you look amazing. Now let’s gooooo.’

Buoyed by his enthusiasm I followed him out of the flat and down the stairs into the street. It was early and the pavement was almost deserted, the weak morning sunlight just lighting the roofs of the houses, the sky above us as pale blue as the shirt Luke was wearing.

Howard handed the keys to me, walking around the car to point out some of the features. ‘When you start her up she might chunter a little but that’s totally normal, and don’t press too hard on the clutch. She’s a sensitive beast and you don’t need to pump her as if she were a common or garden Astra. And when you change gear try not to force things, be smooth, and remember—’

‘Actually, Howard, I thought I’d let Luke drive,’ I said, one hand circling Luke’s waist.

Howard’s chin quivered. ‘But he doesn’t have a licence!’

‘So what better way for him to learn!’

Howard was pulling on his tie, a panicked look back at Grandad, who had appeared in his car to take Howard back. ‘Oh, well, maybe, perhaps I wouldn’t, well, you know, she’s probably, um—’

‘Joke! Ha, your face,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry, Howard. Luke is a complete imbecile, I wouldn’t let him near the wheel.’

‘Oh!’ Howard let out a bark of laughter. ‘Christ, you had me there. Very good, very good.’

‘I can’t even be trusted with a bicycle,’ Luke said cheerily, running round to throw himself into the passenger seat. ‘I once chipped my tooth falling off a scooter.’

Grandad had started beeping his car. ‘Well, I must go but Luke tells me you’ll return her later, and of course I trust you,’ Howard said in a deeply untrusting voice. ‘So, enjoy the day.’ He put a hand on the side panel of the bonnet. ‘Go slow, no need for excessive speed, take in the weather and—’

More beeping from Grandad.

‘Best be off then,’ Howard said, one finger still making contact with the car until he heaved himself away.

‘Road trip,’ Luke said, pointing both hands forward.

‘Great.’ I got into the car, readjusting the driving mirror and tightening the knot in my neck tie. Looking sideways at Luke I placed the key in the ignition. ‘So, Thelma – where to?’

Luke had booked us a pub lunch on the river in a small village in Hertfordshire. The drive was wonderful. We took the A roads and felt the sun streaming above us, the wind lifting our hair, swirling around us in the car as the radio played and we sang along unashamedly. It seemed for that journey as though nothing else in the world existed, just two people heading through the countryside, trees meeting in speckled canopies over our heads. We couldn’t really talk, could only hear the roar of the wind in our ears and feel the warmth of the sun on our skin.

As we turned into the small pub car park and switched off the engine, we sat in silence for a second, noises heightened: the cheeping from the trees, the distant bleating of lambs in a field, the chatter of insects in the verge.

‘It’s lovely,’ I said, staring up at the thatched public house, an enormous pub garden stretched along one side with a view over the hills, most of the picnic tables free.

‘Only the best for you, your majesty,’ Luke announced, stepping out of the passenger seat and coming round to open the driver’s door.

I took his hand, letting him pull me into a hug, both hands round my waist, my head resting against his

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