‘I dunno, Dougie, we don’t want to be late,’ replied the front-seat passenger, glugging down the last of his can before lobbing it into the verge.
I stiffened in irritation and came very close to pointing out that he appeared to have dropped something, when out of the corner of my eye I saw the two back-seat passengers bending to open the stacked cake boxes.
I spun around, forgetting I was trying to be polite.
‘Can you stay away from those, please? They’re for a party.’
The man whose hand was already halfway inside the box looked back at me over his shoulder. ‘Hey, we’re going to a party,’ he slurred. ‘I bet they’re for us, anyway.’
My jaw tightened as he extracted a cupcake from the box and sank his teeth into it. Meanwhile the driver had moved to the back of Betty and was obviously looking for the jack. An emotion I was slow to recognise as rage began to flood through me. I hadn’t asked for or invited their assistance, but they weren’t listening to me. It was totally beyond their comprehension that I didn’t want their help.
‘Look, thank you again for stopping, but like I said, there’s no need. I’ve called my boyfriend and he’s on his way right now. He’ll change the tyre in a jiffy. He’s a mechanic.’
The men exchanged looks, which if I hadn’t been so angry, I would have found really insulting. Clearly, they didn’t believe me. I’m not sure what they were struggling with: the idea that I had a boyfriend or that he worked in a garage. I wondered what their expressions would have been if I’d told them I was planning on changing the tyre myself.
It felt like we’d reached a critical impasse. The driver, who I’d hoped would simply shrug and climb back into his car, did the exact opposite, planting his feet wide apart and folding his arms across his barrel chest. Until that moment I had felt more irritated than threatened, but now I was starting to wonder if I had played this whole thing wrong.
I was considering backpedalling when we all looked up like startled meerkats at the sound of an approaching car on the quiet country lane.
‘Ah. That must be him,’ I said, swivelling towards the road. The sun was low in the sky, and I had to shield my eyes to even see the approaching car. ‘You’re free to be on your way now, guys.’
‘Maybe we should just hang around and check it’s him. You know, there are some dodgy people out there these days.’
The irony of his words was totally lost on him.
‘Honestly, it’s best if you just go. He can be a little ... possessive ... sometimes.’
I’m not sure what I’d been hoping to achieve with that lie, but it didn’t get them scurrying back into their car. If anything, it ignited yet another challenge.
‘You can do better than being with a guy like that,’ said drunk passenger number three. ‘A pretty girl like you.’
I glared at him for insulting my imaginary boyfriend and was wondering how rude I was going to have to be to get them to leave, when the sound of the approaching vehicle grew appreciably louder.
My line of sight was blocked by the men who, by accident or design, were clustered between me and the road. I was preparing to sidestep them and flag down the driver when the car sped straight past us.
Disappointment felt like a rock in the middle of my chest as I watched it disappear.
‘Ah, not your fella then?’ said Doug.
And then, before I could think of a reply, something amazing happened. The car that had just driven past us came to a stop. I stared at its twin brake lights, unaware that I had been holding my breath in anticipation. The miracle continued when the car’s engine restarted but, instead of driving on, the vehicle reversed back the hundred yards or so to where we were standing.
‘There he is,’ I said, the relief in my voice totally genuine. Not caring if I was being rude, I pushed my way through the men and half walked, half ran towards the car whose door was already opening.
‘Hi, sweetheart. What took you so long? I thought I was going to have to call a garage after all.’
A tall man with sandy-coloured hair climbed out of the car. I’m sure that beneath his reflective sunglasses his eyes held a million questions; I shook my head, my own eyes asking him not to give me away as I covered the distance between us. Not sure if I was jumping straight from the frying pan and into the fire, I acted on pure instinct and held out my hands to the total stranger standing in front of me.
He skipped a beat, just one. In that moment I saw his head turn and he seemed to take it all in at once. His jaw, which I was close enough to see was attractively covered with stubble, got infinitesimally tighter.
‘Sorry I got held up, Jessie.’
I smiled broadly, happily realising he was going to play along.
‘Thanks for stopping to help her out, mate,’ he said, addressing a seriously confused-looking Doug. ‘It’s nice to know there are still some good blokes out there.’
‘It sure is,’ I said, looking up at the stranger who I had no reason to trust more than the men who’d stopped to supposedly help me. But I did. Instantly and immediately.
‘Well, we don’t want to hold you up any more than we must have already,’ my new best friend said pointedly.
