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‘Yes.’
‘So, are we going up Friday or Saturday?’
She bit her lip. An extra day with Nick was going to be difficult, but it might be the last time she got to see her in-laws. A family dinner sounded wonderful.
‘I can do Friday.’
She heard him exhale. ‘That’s great. We’re going to have to leave early, though.’
‘How early?’
‘Dunno. Haven’t settled on a time yet.’
Typical. He hadn’t thought about this at all.
‘Well, what time is the dinner?’
‘Hang on a second—Mum rang me with all the details. I just need to find them.’
The phone at his end clattered onto a hard surface and she heard a rustling noise. It must have driven Maggie mad not to send him a little card with all the details in it, just in case he forgot. Honestly, she’d put little notes in his packed-lunch box if she could.
‘OK,’ he said, sounding slightly breathless. ‘It starts at eight.’
‘Let’s aim to get there for six at the latest. It should give us a bit of time to stretch our legs and freshen up. How long will it take us?’
‘Debbie says it takes her nine hours, but she’s about an hour closer, so I’d suggest we leave at eight.’
‘Let’s make it seven. We’ve got the M25 to deal with.’
Nick groaned.
‘What time are you picking me up, then?’ Adele asked.
Silence for a few seconds.
‘You’ve got the car, Adele. I didn’t sneak one back into the country in my hand luggage, you know.’
Adele closed her eyes and dropped onto the sofa. ‘So, not only am I going to be stuck in a car with you for eleven hours, I’m going to have to do the driving as well?’
‘We can share. I’ll let you do the first leg.’
‘Gee, thanks.’ She opened her eyes and gave the ceiling a long, hard look. ‘You’d better tell me Craig’s address. I want you standing on the doorstep at seven o’clock sharp or I’m driving away without you.’
Now who was sounding like his mother?
‘Whatever you say.’
Adele just knew he was doing a little cocky smirk at the phone. Her lips curled into a smile anyway.
Impossible. The man was impossible.
If it weren’t the crack of dawn, Adele would’ve been leaning on the horn with all her weight. It was bad enough she’d ended up as chauffeur, without being made to wait around in her car in sub-zero temperatures. The heater was a bit dodgy and would only produce something approaching warmth once her foot was near the floor.
The clock on the dashboard ticked. Seven minutes past seven. He had until ten past and then she was aborting the mission.
She shook her head. Aborting the mission. What kind of phrase was that? She was starting to sound more and more like Mona with each passing day. Anyone would think this was some kind of military operation.
Adele jabbed the radio on with a gloved finger.
Maybe she was on to something.
Maybe if she treated this like a campaign she might emerge, if not triumphant, at least with her heart and her dignity intact. She couldn’t let Nick worm his way past her defences this time. If she failed, and had to pick up the pieces afterwards, there wouldn’t be enough bits left over to glue back together to make a whole Adele. She’d never be the same.
The only problem was she knew nothing about warfare. Only a few jumbled phrases from World War Two movies and things her rather stern grandfather had used to say.
Know your enemy.
Well, that was easy enough. She knew Nick inside out. Didn’t help much, though. The more she thought about him the more she seemed to turn to mush. And this soldier wasn’t going to do mush, thank you very much.
Always keep the element of surprise.
Adele smiled and stroked the steering wheel, a smile widening across her cheeks. Nick was going to go mad when he saw the car. She smothered a giggle with her hand and the fluff of the angora glove tickled her lips.
It was about time Nick had a taste of his own medicine. She rubbed her hands together. So, this was what it felt like to be bad. The scary thing was, it felt kind of good.
The second hand of the clock juddered towards the twelve. It was nine minutes past seven…and forty seconds…and forty-five seconds. Adele turned the key in the ignition.
True to form, Nick burst from the front door of the flat with a holdall and a small backpack. He hadn’t spotted her yet. A stocky guy with red hair handed Nick what looked like a sports bag. Nick clapped him on the back and smiled.
Then the smile dropped off Adele’s face. Something blonde and skinny ran from inside, flung its arms round Nick’s neck and plastered a big kiss on his cheek. Adele growled then suddenly stopped, surprised at herself.
A few seconds later her soon-to-be-ex-husband was down the garden path and looking up and down the street. Adele wound down her window and waved. Nick waved back—and then did a double-take.
She grimaced. He was striding this way and he didn’t look very happy.
‘Adele! What have you done with the car?’
‘Shhh! It’s seven o’clock in the morning.’
‘I know what blooming time it is. I want to know what you’ve done with my car!’
‘Our car—and I sold it.’
‘You…you…’ He looked heavenwards then pressed his lips together and shook his head. She flinched as he opened the boot and threw his bags inside. One of them jangled, which was a bit odd, but she didn’t stop to think about it. She had more pressing matters holding her attention.
Nick got in the passenger seat, slammed the door closed and turned to face her.
‘Well?’
‘We didn’t need that boxy old thing any more. It’s not practical for the city.’
Nick seemed to be mouthing the words boxy old thing.
She swallowed. Perhaps she’d gone a bit too far.
Selling their Jeep had been the only bit of revenge she’d had. She’d wanted to shred his shirts to ribbons with a razor blade, but she just hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it. They’d still smelled of him.
‘I needed something smaller, more efficient—a little runabout.’
He poked at a button on the dashboard. Nothing happened.
‘A little rust bucket, more like,’ he muttered. ‘If this is all you got for the money you should have got from my Jeep, then you were well and truly done.’
She gave him a sideways glance. ‘I’m not stupid. I didn’t spend all of the money on this. I’m perfectly capable of buying a car without your input, you know.’
He snorted. ‘Adele, capable is your middle name. Why would I ever think you needed me for anything?’
‘Now you’re just being ridiculous.’
Nick turned away to do up his seat belt.
Adele followed suit. ‘I suppose you’d like me to be a bit more like blondie over there, falling all over you and worshipping at your feet? Does she always wander round in just a vest top and a pair of knickers? She must be very resilient to the cold.’
Nick’s lips stayed firmly clamped together as he smiled. ‘She’s from Sweden. She’s used to it.’
Adele crunched the gear stick into place and checked the rear-view mirror, scowling.
‘Of course, sometimes she forgets to wear the vest,’ he added.
She yanked at the handbrake.
Nick chuckled. ‘I’m kidding, Adele. Lighten up. We’ve got a long journey ahead. I thought we could stop in the Midlands around lunchtime. Let’s make nice, polite conversation until then.’
‘You do the talking. I’m driving.’
‘OK. Now, what shall we talk about? I know. Going back to our earlier conversation, there was at least one thing you needed me for. Begged me for on occasion, if I recall rightly.’
Adele hunched over the steering wheel and said nothing. At this rate, Nick would be lucky if he was still alive by lunchtime.
CHAPTER FOUR
A LORRY hulked past in the outside lane and Adele gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. What was it about being overtaken by one of those monsters that made you sure you were going to veer off the road and end up in a heap of twisted metal?
Nick was fumbling in the rucksack at his feet. She flicked a look over and breathed a sigh of relief. He had one of his gadgets in his hand—probably his iPod—and she’d have a few moments’ peace if he plugged himself in.
Much to her annoyance he started fixing a big sucker with an arm attached to the windscreen.
‘What on earth are you up to now?’
Nick just grinned. ‘Just wait and see. You’ll love it.’
Another truck decided to overtake with millimetres to spare and she fixed her eyes on the motorway lane in front of her. When she had a chance to look again, Nick was huddled over the gadget, pressing buttons in rapid succession. It beeped back at him. He reached over and fixed it into the cradle stuck to the windscreen.
‘Satellite navigation,’ he said proudly.
She rolled her eyes then concentrated on keeping well back from the car in front.
‘I should have guessed that eventually you would get a whole host of gizmos to do your thinking for you, especially now I’m not around.’
‘You’re sitting right next to me. You are around.’
‘You know what I mean. You’re a typical man. God forbid you actually pick up the road atlas.’
‘Adele, you would never let me within ten feet of the road atlas. Admit it, sweetheart, you just don’t like giving up the control.’
‘So not true. I just like having something to do on long journeys.’
And she’d been looking for a distraction, something to take her mind off the man sitting so close to her that all her nerve-endings were sizzling with awareness and she was constantly on edge.
Come on, who liked being replaced by a machine? She glared at the contraption as it sat in its cradle.
‘What happens if that thing gets you hopelessly lost?’
Nick leaned back and stretched his legs out. ‘Impossible. That’s the beauty of it. The information is always at your fingertips. It pinpoints exactly where you are, night and day.’
She stopped glaring and studied the display. Maybe she should give it a go?
‘It never goes wrong?’
Nick shrugged. ‘It’s a machine. It has its moments but, on the whole, it’s as accurate as you would be. Just about perfect.’
Adele sighed. Perfect. How she was learning to hate that word.
She knew all about the pressures of having to be right one hundred per cent of the time, of having everyone expecting you to be perfect. No, not just expecting—relying on you being perfect. It was such a strain to have to juggle everything and never having the luxury of knowing that, if you dropped a ball once in a while, it didn’t matter.
The rattle from the engine warned her that her foot had been heavier on the accelerator than she had intended. Eighty-five? Whoops. She carefully eased off the pedal.
A cut-glass, metallic voice pierced the silence. ‘In nine hundred feet, take the next exit.’
Adele squinted at the display, but the sun was on it and she couldn’t see it properly.
‘That means get over into the other lane, Adele. We’re going to miss the exit if you don’t.’
Easier said than done. Half the traffic on the motorway was trying to leave by that exit and there wasn’t a space to slip into. She tried to find a gap without causing a pile-up, but there were too many cars all packed too closely together.
‘Take the next exit. Take the next exit.’
By the time she had checked her mirrors again and tried to slow down, it was too late. The rust bucket sailed right past the cluttered slip-road.
