‘Soooo … is this a long-winded way of saying yes please, Lissa, I need a lift?’
‘If you’re sure you don’t mind? The breakdown guys said I could leave the keys on the wheel and they’ll pick the car up.’
‘Handy. And of course, a lift I can do.’
But still he hesitates.
‘Ash,’ she says firmly, and his gaze meets hers in the dark. ‘Will you please get in the car so I can stop freezing to death?’
He smiles a little, though it’s not quite the easy one from the last couple of times they’ve met. ‘Okay. Thank you. Two secs.’
He heads back to the rental car, leaving Lissa to get back in hers, shuddering in relief at the warmth. She pulls down the visor, checks her reflection in the little mirror. Her mascara has run in the rain, and water droplets still cling to her hair, which is decidedly more scraggly than when she left the house. She fixes it as best she can, then wonders why exactly she’s bothering.
She jumps as the passenger door opens, and snaps the visor back up. ‘So where to?’ she asks brightly as he clambers in, bringing with him the scent of rain, along with something earthier.
He gives her a street name. ‘Near Combe Down, if you know it? South Bath.’
She types it into her sat nav, waits for a space and pulls out. The Prius, she thinks, looks a little lonely abandoned there, hazard lights still flashing, with only an orange cone for company. She refrains from making that comment out loud, though – best to keep the overt sympathy for inanimate objects to a minimum.
She catches Ash glancing at her as they pick up speed, taking in her outfit. Her jean jacket is now hanging loosely off her shoulders, showing off the black dress underneath. It’s her signature third- or fourth-date dress – although she’s starting to think it’s a non-starter with Mark, that agreeing to dinner was a mistake – and it hugs her curves in a way that makes her feel a little self-conscious in this exact moment in time. It’s a dress designed for standing up or leaning over a dinner table in candlelight, not for sitting hunched over a steering wheel, illuminated by the artificial light of the dashboard.
She shifts a little self-consciously, and Ash pulls his gaze away, looking straight out the windscreen instead. The way he does it makes heat rise to her cheeks for some reason.
‘Where are you off to?’ he asks. ‘Or wherewereyou off to, I should say.’
‘The Pig.’ Assuming Mark actually leaves the office. And assuming the restaurant hold their table for them. It’s bad, isn’t it, that she sort of hopes they won’t. She doesn’t want to spend an evening talking about click-through rates and Liam’s ideas for companies they can approach, which she’s sure will make up at least 70 per cent of the conversation.
‘Oh yes. Heard that’s good. All organic.’
‘Exactly.’
There is a beat of quiet between them, a weird kind of tension that she didn’t notice last time they met, humming in the air.
‘So,’ she says, her voice too loud. ‘How come you’re back again?’ Because didn’t he say, when they first met, that he wasn’t in Bath much? Yet it’s only been a couple of weeks since the pub quiz.
He gives a one-shoulder shrug that would look casual if it weren’t for the fact it was so stiff. ‘Got some things I need to sort out.’
‘Well that’s incredibly vague and cryptic. You’re not a drug dealer, are you?’
His lips twitch. ‘My dad lives in Bath,’ he says. He doesn’t seem inclined to offer any further explanation, though – weird for someone who, on first meeting, seems pretty open. Still, none of her business, is it?
‘Thank you for doing this,’ he says, glancing over to her again. ‘If it’s easier to drop me at a bus stop …’
‘It’s fine,’ she says firmly. ‘It’s not that far out of the way. Besides, maybe this makes up for the scooter incident.’ He raises his eyebrows in question. ‘You know, you save my life, I save yours.’ That near-smile again. ‘You can even shout at me for it if you want.’ He gives in to a full-on laugh then, and she feels glad to have coaxed it from him.
‘We are definitely even,’ he agrees.
‘Good.’
He lapses into silence again, staring out at the rain, which is growing steadily heavier. He looks pale, she thinks, as well as tired.
‘You’re not hurt, are you?’ He looks back at her. ‘From the accident, I mean,’ she elaborates.
He raises one eyebrow. ‘Why, wondering if you can put all that medical knowledge to good use?’
She’ll take that as a no, then. She makes a scathing noise at the back of her throat. ‘Tch. I’m sure you have something you’re embarrassingly knowledgeable about.’
‘Oh, I have plenty to be embarrassed about.’ The way he says it, voice low, makes her wonder just what he’s talking about. ‘Not sure I’d consider myself knowledgeable about any of it.’
