sound of car brakes – and whipped his head around just in time to see Sam fling an arm out in front of Terrence, who had been about to cross the road behind him.
A cream Mini skidded, swerving slightly, and stopped exactly where Terrence had been about to walk. Dean and Jonny, who had already climbed over the fence to the field that would loop them back around to the pub, shouted out, ‘What happened?’
Daniel motioned for them to come over without turning around. He couldn’t take his eyes off what had just happened.
‘… Nearly bloody killed us!’ he heard Terrence say, foaming at the mouth in anger. Nobody was hurt, thankfully, but he could see the driver still gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white and deathly pale. She looked like she might throw up.
‘Are you all right?’ Daniel called, meaning both Terrence and the driver.
Terrence dragged his attention away from yelling at the passenger of the car through the car window and looked at him.
‘Yes, mate,’ he said. And then, directing his fury back at the car, ‘No thanks to this BLOODY LUNATIC!’ He hit the bonnet with the flat of his palm and he crossed in front of it, startling the driver, who seemed to burst into tears.
Daniel looked back to where the car had come from – to be fair, they had all crossed over just after a blind bend. Daniel didn’t think it wise to bait Terrence in any way, though, so didn’t mention it. It was just lucky everyone was okay. He tried to catch the eye of the driver to share a sympathetic smile, ducking at the knees slightly to get a better look. She needs to get out of the way, he thought, and watched as the hazard lights came on, blinking in the early afternoon light. It looked like whoever was with her knew what to do. They’ll be okay, he thought. He turned around to climb over the fence where the rest of the guys were.
‘I’m bloody shaking!’ Terrence was saying, and Daniel saw Sam turn around and give the car the finger as its engine roared into life again. It drove slowly away. For a second Daniel thought it was Nadia driving. He shook himself out of the thought. You’re obsessed, he told himself.
‘Talk about earning that beer,’ Daniel said, forcing himself to get the energy of the group back. He grabbed Sam’s shoulder and steered him in the direction of the pub. ‘Jesus.’
‘First round is on you, mate,’ Sam said. ‘That was nearly the end of us!’
‘You know what?’ Daniel replied. ‘I’m feeling generous. First round is absolutely on me.’
19
Nadia
On Monday, Nadia started again with The New Routine to Change Her Life. She spent Sunday evening doing what she thought of as a ‘Big Shower’. A small shower is like what her mother would ashamedly call a sailor’s clean – a quick splash of warm water upstairs and down, and on occasion a hair wash. A Big Shower is dry body brushing and a teeth-whitening sheet, a deep cleanse and exfoliation and double shampoo and hair mask. A Big Shower is shaved legs and armpits, a body oil on damp skin, followed by separate face masks for the T-zone and chin area, collagen under-eye mask, and actually using a hairdryer to keep the frizz at bay for the morning. By the time Nadia had soaked off the masks, used a midnight oil, hyaluronic cream, moisturizer, exfoliated her lips and dabbed under-eye cream on with the third finger of her right hand, like she’d seen on YouTube (apparently that finger has the most nerve endings, so applies the least amount of pressure), she was so exhausted that it wasn’t a problem to be asleep by 10 p.m. She woke up before her alarm, the summer sun bright through the gap in the curtains, and was up, dressed, and out of the flat by 6.45 a.m.
She sat on the 73 bus to Angel, firing off a text to check on Emma, and it occurred to her that she’d be earlier than her normal 7.30 train, and it was the 7.30 train she needed to be on if she wanted to see Train Guy. She had twenty minutes to kill.
Coffee, she decided. I’ll go get coffee.
By the station there was a small cart – a sort of van that doubled up as a coffee station once the back doors were opened and revealed an espresso machine and milk frother. The owner, a