‘Wow, Udaipurisnice!’ Jacob marvelled, sticking his head out of the tuk-tuk like an overzealous puppy. ‘Look at that’ – he pointed far into the distance – ‘we have to go and visit that later!’
Olivia sat as still as she possibly could, bracing herself as the little vehicle jerked violently left and right.
‘Do you have to lean so far out?’ She cringed as two motorbikes flew past, uncomfortably close to Jacob’s nose. ‘Someone might hit you as they go by.’
‘Ah, don’t worry. Either they’ll move or I will, no big deal.’
‘It will be a big deal when a ten-ton lorry knocks your head clean off and I have to mop up the mess,’ she snarked, shrinking as far back into the seat as possible. There was no way she was risking life and limb for a blurry view of the city.
‘Charming!’ Jacob snorted, drawing his head back inside the rickshaw. ‘At least it’s nice to know you’d mop me up; I don’t think I fancy my remains being left out to dry on the road.’
Olivia shuddered at the thought.
‘Are you hungry, by the way?’
‘Seriously?’ She gawped. ‘Two seconds ago, you were talking about splaying your guts on the tarmac, and now you want food?’
‘Exactly! Did you already eat?’
Olivia took a second to simply appreciate the absurdity of the man who sat next to her. It was safe to say she had never, and probably would never again, meet anyone like him in her life.
‘Yes, I ate.’
‘Hmm, well then, looks like it will be a little snack for one, doesn’t it?’
‘What about the sweets you so generously offered to bribe me with earlier?’
‘These!’ Jacob pulled the dried-out, half-eaten packet from his shorts. ‘They won’t sustain a man long enough to fully embark on the Olivia Jackson twenty-four-hour tour.’
‘We’re not pulling an all-nighter, so you’ll get at least eight hours back.’
‘A midnight excursion isn’t on the cards, then?’ He raised an eyebrow, making Olivia’s entire body radiate with heat. ‘Good to know.’
Before she could try and fumble some form of reply, Jacob had leant forward in his seat and tapped the driver on the shoulder.
‘Hey buddy, know anywhere en route for a good bit of breakfast?’
‘I know a great place, but it’s not en route.’
Olivia’s insides contracted in angst. Not only at the fact the driver had turned fully in his seat and was not looking at the road, but also because of the potential interruption to their plan.
‘How far are we talking?’ Jacob continued, clearly not bothered at all that their driver’s eyes were anywhere but on the traffic in front of them.
‘An extra fifteen-minute drive.’
‘That’s not bad. And how good are we talking?’
‘The best dosa I’ve ever had’ – he flashed them a toothy grin – ‘but don’t tell my wife that, she’ll kill me!’
‘Awesome.’ Jacob looked back at Olivia for support. ‘What do you reckon – shall we give it a go?’
Her first instinct was a hard no. Fifteen minutes was never fifteen minutes out here, what with the traffic and the general chaos that seemed to instantly add another half hour to any simple task. Plus, the last time she’d heard the word ‘best’ when it came to street food, it had ended badly. Very badly.
But when faced with Jacob’s overt enthusiasm, she decided to take a slightly softer approach.
‘I’m not sure. Is there nothing else a bit closer?’
‘There are lots of things closer’ – the driver shrugged – ‘but nowhere near as tasty.’
