The Road.

The Road 6

The Road 6

Ricky stayed at Bob’s place. There were less creature comforts, but he didn’t have to deal with the big eyed Piri.

The day after the incident in the garden, she tried to explain about the boyfriend thing. Tried to have conversation about his knowledge of the Magyar language. Neither of which he wanted. He found his growing interest in her uncomfortable. Keeping the promise to his aunt was getting harder, so it was best to just avoid the temptation. He was safer sleeping on Big Bob’s beaten up old couch. At least there, any sexual fantasies he might have would stay just that, fantasies

Taking a lungful of the smell of engine oil and exhaust fumes, his overalls tied off at his waist, Ricky started his working day. He actually had no need to do paid work, even when, as the highly eloquent John Bacchus had put it, he was knackering batteries for a fiver a day. Richard Deeming was not a man in need of money. His mother had left him well provided for.

The Deeming family had always been well off; the large Edwardian house that Aunt Pip owned had been his mother’s family home. No, Ricky liked to work; he liked to wield the hammer, fix bikes, and work on cars. Money meant little, even the royalties from his book, such as they were, went to one of Aunt Pip’s charitable works.

Money paid for his Norton, let him have the freedom to indulge his love; work kept him in the real world.

“Anyone here like to help this lady?” Martin the garage manager swung into the workshop with a little blonde in tow.

The little blonde.

Ricky’s little blonde.

She didn’t look at him, why should she? Ricky stepped back into the corner. No point embarrassing her unnecessarily.

“The lady has a problem with her steering.”

“Aye hinny, what cana do for ya?” Arthur the senior mechanic was near retirement and was the politest of the staff.

“Well, when I get to 40, everything wobbles in a most alarming way.” Her voice was low, melodic, the accent southern. Ricky watched her move. She was calm today. The desperate, wanting girl of that night had been replaced by a confident little chickie. She was wearing rolled up jeans and an old fashioned collarless dress shirt, both were covered in paint. Hair in a thick, untidy plait; feet, dusty gutties.

Ricky leant back, out of her line of sight and wiped his hands on an oily rag. He watched her. Yep, she was different.

Arthur sucked air over his teeth and shook his head. “Hmm, could be a couple of things lass…might take a while.”

“Look I need the car, how long to…”

“You got wheel wobble, front end shimmy. Your tracking is out. Take about 30 minutes tops to re-balance.” Ricky growled and pushing forward, shaking his head.

“You…it’s you” She stared.

“Yep, it is. Do ya want me ta do this?" He leant down to her, speaking slowly, as if she were stupid.

“Well, yes, of course I want it fixed, but not by you… Him, he can do it.” She refused to look at Ricky.

“Your choice pet.” He smirked and turned away.

She clenched her jaw, teeth gritted. The bastard thought it was funny!

“She’s all yours Arthur, but watch, ‘er she’s a goer.”

Hari was mortified; how dare he? But what could she say that wouldn’t spark a scene? Nothing, she just had to ignore the bloody, greasy, oike. “How long will it take?”

“Like ‘e said, ‘boot 30 minutes. Come back in an hour pet, she’ll be ready for ya.” Arthur was not going to be hurried.

Tossing her keys on to the work bench, Hari turned on her heel and stalked away. Not looking at either man.

“Taking me break, pal.” Ricky called over his shoulder as he followed her out.

Hari sat on the bench overlooking the war memorial in the park. She closed her eyes against the sun’s glare.

Why here? Why now? She was trying so hard to beat this. She felt the warmth of the sun go and she opened her eyes. There was no cloud covering the sun, it was the tall muscular frame of a man in rolled down overalls and a vest.

“OK, are you gonna tell me what you’re up to?”

“I am not up to anything. I just want my car fixed.” She shaded her eyes as he moved, letting the sun hit her face. “Do you really think I came here deliberately? You think I want to be humiliated by you again? You may have Davinia all tied up in knots with your Stanley Kowalski impersonation, but frankly I find it…pitiful.”

“Oh, I quite like the reference; Kowalski, not bad pet. But Brando’s going bald. Not sure I like being compared ta him.” He laughed.

Hari stood up, annoyed. He was supposed to be stupid, why was he not stupid? She needed him to be an oike. “Whatever happened, should never have happened. Forget it. I was drunk, doped, having a nervous breakdown.” Walking away was the best thing to do. To try and talk with him was pointless. But as she turned she couldn’t help but notice the curve of his bicep, they were far too close. There was a tattoo there, 'Lusus Naturea'. She shivered, freak of nature. She couldn’t resist. “Are you?” Her voice was quiet as she ran her finger over the muscle. Her mouth dry.

“In more ways than you can know little girl.” He pulled her round, against him. He grinned, ducked his head to hers and whispered, oh, so close to her ear, ”Care to find out just how much?”

Hari groaned. How had this happened? She could feel him hard against her belly. And there it was, an honest to goodness hard on. It was a Friday morning, in the middle of the park, and she wanted him. Oh, and he definitely wanted her.

“Fuck you!” she pushed away from him. “You really do love yourself. Well news flash, I…”

He jerked her in to him, holding her wrists behind her back. “I don’t know what your problem is chickie, but I’m pretty sure it would be int'restin’ to find out.”

She jerked away from him. “No!”

He heard a desperate plea in that one word. “No? no, what?” he growled, irritation beginning to simmer.

Hari dragged herself out of his reach.”I’m not some, some… I don't know...whatever you think I am.” She ran then. He watched confused, maybe she was just the nut job that Davinia called her. Shame, now he had to think down his arousal. Fuck it, it was her loss. What was he going to do anyway, have her in the bushes?