‘Okay. I’m officially donning my pastor hat.’ Dylan mimed putting on a cap and straightening it up. I raised my eyebrows at him.
‘I’m wearing it because I’m guessing you still haven’t told Perry about this, and I’m not sure you should be telling a friend instead of the man you’re going to marry. But you need to talk about it.’
‘I know. Thank you.’
‘Plus, the caveman in me really wants to hunt this man down and smash his face in. My pastor hat reminds me that wouldn’t be a wise thing to do.’
‘He’d snap you in half before you got a chance. No offence. He’s seriously evil.’
‘And you think he’s looking for you.’
‘I think he’s found me.’ I told him about what had happened, about what I remembered of Kane from before he went to prison, some of how it affected me then, and now.
‘Is there somewhere you can stay? With a friend? A relative who owns a fortress? On the other side of the planet?’
‘I did consider joining Sam in his treatment centre.’
He turned back to stare out into the field, rubbing one hand over his face.
‘Are you crying?’
‘No. Absolutely not.’ His voice cracked. ‘Not that I would be ashamed if I was. Real men can cry.’
‘Because I’m holding it together by the wispiest of threads and if you are crying, tough man, I may collapse into a mushy pile of human jelly in this mud, and not only will that mess up your truck; I won’t get any driving done. And as you now know,I have a very good reason to pass my driving test as soon as humanly possible. So pull yourself together, and don’t you dare even think about crying.’
‘I’m not crying! A fly flew in my eye. Both eyes.’
‘Good. Now we’re going to walk back and I’m going to get the whole sorry saga off my chest. You are not going to cry, I am not going to cry, and you are going to teach me how to drive a car without stalling and how to change gear. Got it?’ I set off, stomping down the track.
Dylan called after me, ‘Now that’s what I call a capable, confident, reliable woman.’
Nearly two hours later, I had reached the heady speed of fifteen miles per hour. Fast enough that anyone chasing me on foot would eat my dust. Not quite fast enough to be let loose in the sports car, yet. But it was a start.
Dylan drove us back to Houghton. We rode in silence, listening to a soft country music song about a man plucking up the courage to tell his girl he loved her. The gentle hue of dusk settled, bringing with it the nip of evening as we approached the village.
‘Are you hungry? I accept driving lesson payments in pizza.’ Dylan slowed down to let a family with three small children cross the road.
‘I can’t tonight. I’m having dinner with Perry. But some other time?’
He nodded. ‘Sure. Do you want another lesson?’
‘I don’t think I’m quite ready for my test yet.’
He smiled. ‘No, I meant do you want another lesson with me?’
‘Do you have the time?’
‘I can make the time. Tuesday’s probably best this week. I have a meeting in the morning, but I could do after lunch if you’re free.’
‘That’s great, thanks. I really appreciate you doing this.’
He turned into my little street, dodging the parked cars signifying the other residents were settled in for the evening.
‘No worries. I enjoyed it.’ He pulled to a stop and I jumped out.
‘Thanks again. I mean, not just for the driving.’
He nodded, one sharp down and up of his chin. ‘Do me a favour?’
