‘Yeah, sure.’ She got out of the car whilst Dylan made the call on his mobile.
After two large white wines, Flora was beginning to unwind, letting her guard slip a little. She didn’t mind Dylan resting his arm along the back of her shoulders as they sat huddled together in a dim, snug alcove. Dylan was on orange juice, but made sure Flora’s glass was always full. He loved the way her cheeks flushed rosy with alcohol.
‘Let’s order something to eat,’ he suggested, after hearing her stomach grumble. He went to the bar and collected two menus. Flora was starving and the wine was starting to take effect. They both opted for the steak and ale pie and settled down for another drink. Flora detected yet again one or two people turn to peek at Dylan.
‘Don’t you ever get sick of it?’ She tilted her head to one woman openly staring.
He shrugged. ‘I suppose it comes with the territory.’
‘Especially if you’re wearing Racer,’ she giggled. He looked at her and smiled.
‘It’s good to hear you laugh again.’ She stared back and for a moment their eyes locked. ‘It’s getting late.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Hadn’t you better let him know?’ Flora frowned. ‘Your date?’
‘Ah! Yes.’ Fumbling for her phone she scrolled down to the first male name she came to – Ben. Then her hazy, fuddled brain told her to text him.
Sorry can’t make tonight.Send, there done it.
Dylan watched carefully. So she hadn’t been bluffing. Who the hell was Ben? A minute later there bleeped a response. Quickly hiding it from Dylan’s sight, she turned to read the message:
?
But then her brotherwouldwonder what she meant. Dylan huffed inwardly, frustrated at not being able to read her message.
‘Everything OK?’ He tried to sound concerned.
‘Fine.’
‘Good. I’ll just check on the car, they should be here by now. You stay here, finish your drink.’ He strolled to his car, reconnected the battery and drove it to the pub to collect Flora.
