‘You are in for a lovely weekend, make no mistake about it, but it’s important you see the reality of life here as well. You’ll be getting the full tour of the farm. You’ll love it, trust me.’
I glanced at him doubtfully. It was a good job I did trust him. My safety was completely in his hands now. I was in his territory, and he was very comfortable with that.
He oozed confidence as we strode to where he had double parked the Audi outside the front door like he owned the place.
I had longed for a man that could take control. Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.
He opened the passenger door for me and I slid into the black leather seat, fastening my seatbelt tightly. John said he lived about twenty minutes from the airport. I tried to relax and take in the scenery.
‘I’ll bring you the main road home.’ He shot me a cheeky wink.
I glanced at the scenery doubtfully. If this was the main road, I’d hate to see the back road. A narrow winding country lane stretched before us. At the steepest bends, I glimpsed a magnificent lake, so still, so peaceful looking. The tranquillity could be attributed to the fact that there was not another soul in sight. The entire landscape appeared like a picturesque postcard.
Conversation was minimal as I soaked up my surroundings and John drove, deep in thought, or perhaps he was just concentrating on the road.
I rested my hand lightly on his thigh and his full lips lifted into a smile.
‘Are you excited to see your new home?’ he joked as though it was a forgone conclusion.
‘Hmm,’ I muttered.
I couldn’t see myself as much of a countrywoman, but I would not negotiate terms anytime soon. I planned on enjoying the weekend, happy to be with him instead of admiring him over FaceTime.
‘Wait until you see the town, you’re going to love it.’ A twinkle of mischief lit up his eyes.
We’d already been driving for over half an hour, which was longer than he said, and I still hadn’t seen anything that looked remotely like a town.
Up ahead I saw signs for a place called Ballina. I was trying to work out the difference between miles per hour and kilometres, whichever way you looked at it, he was still speeding and the airport wasn’t as near as he’d led me to believe.
‘Someone’s been telling porkie pies.’ I looked at my watch pointedly.
‘Sure, it was the traffic that held us up. It’s normally a lot quicker than this.’ That man had an answer for everything.
I couldn’t help but laugh. John was like no one I’d ever met before; his sense of humour was warped.
Ahead I noticed a few detached houses lining each side of the road and things started to look a bit more promising. A petrol station, a corner shop, a butcher, a pharmacist and a betting shop.
‘Welcome to Ballina,’ he said warmly.
‘This is it?’ I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle. He had to be having me on?
‘This is it. There are more shops down there.’ He pointed towards the river.
I saw a Tesco’s, a florist, and Penny’s. If I’d have blinked, I would have missed it. Oh dear, it was quainter than I thought. A few people roamed the streets, but it seemed pretty quiet generally.
‘Busy today,’ he said, as if he could read my mind. ‘Saturday you see, the market is on as well.’
I didn’t see a market. It certainly wasn’t going to give Camden a run for its money.
We passed through the ‘town’ and out into quieter streets and the scenery became more rural again.
‘Is it far?’ I asked.
‘Ten minutes.’
‘Is that a real ten minutes, or an Irish ten minutes?’ I arched a wry eyebrow.
He chuckled but failed to answer the question.
