‘Yes, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to have it.’ Ellie leaned over to grab it but Abby pulled away.
‘You’re not serious.’
‘Deadly.’
‘Don’t be stupid.’
‘That wipe saved your bacon and all you can do is...complainand not recognize when spending a few quid can actually have a profound effect on your life.’
Abby was trying not to smile. ‘Profound?’
‘You know what I mean.’ Ellie pulled a face at her sister. Then sighed; it was all too exhausting. ‘What do we do now?’
Abby considered. ‘The car’s fucked,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ agreed Ellie.
Abby got out and, shutting the driver’s door, she looked up and down the road. Then she walked to the back of the car. She popped the boot and took out the holdall and suitcase she’d put in there earlier.
‘I guess we walk,’ said Abby. ‘See if we can find a village or something.’
Ellie nodded, then the two sisters, the late sun on their backs, continued along the road.
SIXTEEN
‘I think I can see a house,’ said Ellie, pointing up ahead. They had been going for forty minutes and she was ready for a break. Her right leg was tingling with pins and needles and she knew she needed to rest before it became too difficult to walk.
‘Hallelujah,’ said Abby. She strode on ahead, Ellie following, and within a few minutes they had crossed a small stone bridge into a hamlet where a smattering of houses led to a restaurant. Peering in at the windows, they saw it was closed, the chairs stacked up on the tables. Abby gazed around the streets. It was quiet. They were in that no-man’s-land time that fell post lunch and before the day’s heat had waned. Then they saw a movement in the distance. A figure walked across what looked like a garage forecourt, weaving between several cars before disappearing into a hut-like office.
‘Bingo,’ said Abby softly.
The girls headed over. Abby tucked her bag behind a wall and placed Ellie’s suitcase next to it. ‘Don’t want any awkward questions,’ she said. Then she went over to the office and opened the door. Ellie stayed outside and, sitting on the wall, she rubbed her leg, trying to ease the numbness.
She gazed around the forecourt. There were only a dozen or so cars, mostly Fiats, although a black Alfa Romeo Spider had pride of place right at the front of the plot. It gleamed in the sunshine – a car that had attitude. There was a sign propped up on the dashboard that was visible through the windscreen. It was for hire at an astronomical amount. Ellie felt the butterflies dance in her belly. They needed a new vehicle but would Abby be expecting them to go halves? Ellie could never afford that kind of money. She turned her back and, leaving the wall, went to look at the Fiats. They were all for rent and nearly all standard 500s. One was a convertible; a white roof was pushed back against the red bodywork. Ellie peered inside: the red paintwork continued on the dash too – and the seats were upholstered in white leather.Wouldn’t burn my bum on those, she thought, as Abby came outside with the proprietor of the business, a late-middle-aged Italian man with salt-and-pepper curly hair and a rotund belly. He saw Ellie over by the open-top Fiat and stopped for a moment, then brightened, his day markedly improved. He headed over.
‘This is our best car for you,’ he said to Abby in his accented English. ‘Perfect for two ladies.’
Abby glanced at the cardboard sign in the windscreen. ‘But it’s more expensive than the other 500s,’ she said. ‘And seeing as I’m paying...’
Ellie ignored the barb, secretly relieved she wasn’t expected to contribute.
‘Ah, but you have the roof,’ exclaimed the car dealer.
‘I don’t need the roof,’ said Abby.
‘Everyone needs a roof,’ said Ellie.
‘You like it, no?’ said the dealer, conspiratorially to Ellie.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ she replied wistfully.
‘We don’t need it,’ repeated Abby. ‘It’s spending money we don’t need to spend.’
Ellie and the dealer exchanged a glance and Ellie shrugged.
‘Advertisers tell you that you need the wind in your hair. I just need to get from A to B,’ said Abby.
‘Jeez, live a little,’ said Ellie, under her breath.
