Not so Ed. He blunders on with his crass attempt at flirtation. “There’s some right odd types out in these places. It’s the in-breeding, I reckon.” He leers at her, as though this might convince her of his lack of oddness. She seems less than impressed, reaching for her coffee cup once more.
Ed continues, undaunted and quite oblivious to the lack of warmth exuded by his audience. “Have you seen my dream machine? Faith here loves the feeling of power throbbing between her legs. You should try it.”
Holy shit! He’s going too far now.I lay my hand on his arm. “It’s time we were getting off.”
“Yes. Then perhaps I can have my seat back.”
Ed leaps to his feet at the sound of the deep voice right behind him. He tilts his head back to look up at the powerful man looking over him. The newcomer’s handsome features bear a sardonic smirk as he seems to dismiss Ed. I doubt he even notices me at all. His attention is fixed on Caroline.
“Won’t you introduce me to your friends?” Ah, he has seen me after all.
Her smile is radiant tinged with perhaps a hint of relief that reinforcements have arrived. “Yes, of course. These are our next-door neighbours, Ed and Faith. And this is Ewan, my, my…” She stumbles over what description to use. I appreciate her predicament—boyfriend seems hardly sufficient. In the end she settles for partner. I suppose that’ll do.
“Did you say you were leaving?” Ewan lifts one eyebrow, his gaze never leaving Ed.
I fully expect some mumbled excuse and to be bundled back in the direction of the bike, but I’m underestimating the power of petrol-driven testosterone. Ed is seized by a sudden rush of bravado. He turns as if to re-take his seat.
“No, I fancy a coffee. What about you, love?”
My attempt to answer is forestalled by Ewan. “If you’re intending to gate-crash, you’d better find your own seat. This one’s taken.” He sits down alongside Caroline, offers a polite nod in my direction, and lifts a hand to summon the waitress.
A few minutes later we are supplied with drinks and a selection of pretty little cakes. I have tea, so does Ewan, I note. Only Ed and Caroline seem to have any interest in the cakes. Most of the conversation is between them too.
“What model is your Yamaha?” Caroline asks, peering across the crowded village square in the direction of the car park.
“MT-09. Eight hundred and fifty cc, three-cylinder engine, a hundred and fifteen horsepower. Goes like shit off a shovel.”
The technical mumbo-jumbo is lost on me, but Caroline seems to know what he’s talking about. “What’s the acceleration like?”
Ed’s off. It doesn’t take much to engage him in an orgy of sexy bike talk, and soon he and Caroline are exchanging impassioned oohing and aahing over maximum torques, gear ratios, chassis design. More tea is ordered, a refill of coffee. I chance an occasional glance at the enigmatic Ewan. He seems amused more than anything. I guess he knows well enough that Caroline is interested in motorbikes, and he seems ready to indulge her. For mypart, I stay pretty much silent. I have nothing to contribute to this conversation.
An hour passes; the café staff are clearing up and starting to move the chairs and tables back inside. It’s starting to cool off as well, and not for the first time I wish I didn’t have a ninety-minute ride on the back of a bike to look forward to. Even in snug leathers it’s a chilly affair. Still, best to get it over, before the weather really does change for the worse. I can see some grey skies gathering.
“It’s time we were making tracks. Looks like rain.” I reach for my jacket.
“No, it’s fine. No rush.” Ed makes no attempt to move.
“Please. I really would prefer to get off. It was cold enough on the way up here, I don’t fancy getting soaked on the way back.”
“That’s part of biking, what makes it so fucking wonderful. Don’t you think so, Caro?”
Caro?Ewan’s eyebrows lift at this too. He says nothing though.
Caroline’s smile is broad. “Oh, yes, it’s all about connecting with the elements, just you and your machine.”
Easy for her to say. Her machine doubtless has a roof on. And a heater. I like my neighbour, I really do, but this fascination with biking is surely bordering on the ridiculous.
“I know, why don’t we swap?” Caroline is grinning at me, her face alight with anticipation.
“What? Swap what?” I frown from her to Ed, who is also doing his Cheshire cat impersonation.
“Yeah, Great idea. Faith, let Caro have your crash helmet and leathers.”
“My leathers? But I’m only wearing shorts underneath.”
“You’ll be decent enough. You can go back in the car with Ewan, and Caro can ride pillion with me. You’d like ademonstration of how that thing goes, wouldn’t you?”
Ed’s final remark is directed at Caroline, who is looking hopefully at Ewan.
