‘That’d be Renee. She seemed to know what she was doing.’ Dixie had been impressed with Renee’s knowhow, even if Elsie had conked out a few miles down the road.
‘I think your piston rings are worn out,’ said Ned with a sage nod.
‘My pissed-on rings are worn out?’ she queried. Was he taking the mickey out of her?
Ned snorted a laugh. ‘Piston rings. They keep an airtight seal on your engine so if they go, pow!’ He mimed an explosion.
‘It didn’t explode exactly. There were vibrations under my feet followed by smoke out of my back end. Then it was more of a fast decline of power.’
‘Vibrations sounds like something else, flywheel maybe.’ He seemed to be thinking out loud. Was a flywheel a real part of a car? She wished she’d paid more attention to what Renee had said because now she had no idea if Ned was winding her up or not. ‘I could see about getting some replacement parts, if you like?’ he offered.
‘Yes please. That would be amazing. Assuming that you’re offering to fit them as well.’
‘Of course. I can’t offer a guarantee, I’m afraid.’
‘That’s OK. Just let me know what I owe you and I’ll transfer it across.’
‘OK.’ They looked at each other for a little too long and both seemed to realize it at the same time. ‘Right, I’ll finish up here,’ said Ned, scratching his cheek and leaving a small grease mark. It gave him a more rough-and-ready look and Dixie found it strangely attractive. She knew it was a terrible cliché but as a rich girl she was rather fascinated by working-class men. She’d certainly had very little luck with the posh ones.
She stepped closer, pulled a clean tissue from her pocket and handed it to him. Ned seemed confused for a moment. ‘There’s a smudge on your face.’
‘Oh right. Thanks.’ He rubbed the tissue on his chin.
‘No, higher, other side,’ she instructed.
Ned rubbed near his eyebrow. Dixie was becoming frustrated. She took the tissue and gently ran it over his cheek to remove the grease, suddenly aware that it was quite an intimate thing to do. Her pulse had quickened and Ned was staring at her lips. Goodness, it was all a little intense, with an air of Lady Chatterley about it.
‘Hey, you!’ shouted someone with a posh voice at the same time as a Labrador came bounding through the trees and almost took Dixie out.
The moment was gone. If it was a moment. Dixie wasn’t sure. She may have fabricated the whole thing in her head. It had been a while since she’d been in male company, or any company for that matter. She was probably just craving some human contact.
‘Hey. You there!’ shouted the same woman and Dixie turned around.
‘Hello! How can I help?’ said Dixie, her accent matching the woman’s. She watched as the rotund woman approached, wheezing slightly with the effort of striding through the woods.
The woman seemed startled for a moment. Perhaps by Dixie’s accent. ‘You can’t set up camp here,’ she said, jabbing a walking pole at Elsie. ‘We don’t want undesirables or that ilk turning the place into a fairground.’
‘Oh I know. I broke down. Terribly inconvenient. Vintage camper, you see,’ said Dixie. ‘We were trying to fix it and we think we’ve identified the trouble so hopefully we’ll—’
‘We?’ The woman was peering past Dixie.
‘Yes. Ne—’ Dixie turned around but there was nobody there. That was strange. She peeped inside the van but he had gone. ‘Anyway, it needs some new parts.’ She leaned towards the woman. ‘Piston ring and flywheel,’ she said.
‘Oh I see, how awfully inconvenient,’ said the woman.
‘Indeed it is. But thank you for your concern. Lovely of you to stop by,’ said Dixie.
‘No bother at all. Need to keep an eye out for any riffraff, you understand.’
‘Oh totally,’ said Dixie.
‘Cheerio,’ said the woman before turning and heading back the way she’d come. ‘Hendricks!’ the woman hollered somewhat belatedly and the large Labrador dashed by Dixie and off into the woodland.
Dixie did a full lap of the camper and checked inside and even under the seats. Where had Ned disappeared to and why? It was rather strange. A thought struck Dixie and she jumped out of the van to call after the woman but she could no longer see her. Was she the mystery note-writer? Unfortunately she’d missed her opportunity to find out.
*
Nora and Jay bought a stick of rock for Renee and decided they would call in to give it to her on the way back from Skegness. Nora was driving when she heard the beep of a text arriving. ‘Can you see who that is?’ she asked Jay.
