Ten Days with Mr Darcy (on hold)

Chapter thirty-five - The long and winding road

Gareth carried his guitar case across the car park and laid it upon the back seat. Then he opened the passenger door for Jess.

She hesitated, weighing her options. Should she talk to him now, standing at the edge of the pub car park, or wait until he was driving? In the car, Gareth would be a captive audience, but would he listen while his attention was partly on the road?

No. It had to be now. "I wanted to ask—"

He suddenly stepped forward, shrinking the space between them. With one hand on the car and the other hovering against her shoulder, Gareth was near enough for Jess to inhale the earthy smell of his leather jacket. A fragment of memory resurfaced, of another car park. Gareth leaning close, brushing his lips against her cheek.

She shivered.

Her eyes were level with his collarbone, visible above the low neck of his t-shirt. She'd forgotten how tall he was. Jess's tongue ran across her dry lips and tried again. "...to...to talk to you ab—"

"Not here." Gareth's whisper came out of the darkness, his face smothered by his own shadow.

Then Jess heard them. A group of giggling girls spilling out of the pub and into the car park. Two were laughing. One was singing, while two others were arguing. He'd moved closer to shield them both from view. Gareth was right. As much as she needed to have this conversation, it wouldn't help if they kept being interrupted. They needed to be somewhere more private, where they could speak undisturbed. Without further discussion, she climbed into the passenger seat and fastened her belt.

Moments later, a quiet Gareth started the engine and pulled out of the car park. They soon left the streetlights behind, the country road and occasional house visible only by the main beam of the car's headlights. He was looking straight ahead, frowning slightly as he stared into the dark night sky.

The silence within the car was oppressive. There was no radio and no polite chat, only the sound of the tires rolling on the tarmac or the engine noise as he changed gear. Jess allowed the silence to grow as she argued with herself over what to say and when.

His face, lit by the dashboard illumination, had an eerie quality about it. She wanted to touch him, to reassure herself he was there, and that this wasn't some ultra-realistic dream.

Then the car pulled over. Were they home already? Jess dragged her gaze from his face long enough to realise they were parked in a lay-by, surrounded by a tall hedge. Turning back, she met Gareth's eyes. His gorgeous moss-green eyes looked much darker within the confines of the car, yet still rather beautiful. He turned the engine off, plunging the interior into darkness. "You wanted to talk?"

The lack of light was a blessing. It freed her from worrying exactly which shade of red her face was glowing.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, the two words unplanned and unexpected, as though they had tumbled accidentally from her lips after escaping the confines of her frontal lobe.

He turned in his seat so he was facing in her direction. "What are you apologising for?"

Was she sorry for not calling him? Or maybe for not seeing him that first moment they met in Derbyshire? Perhaps she felt sorry for all the crap he'd had to go through just because he'd done a favour for a friend. She suspected the truth was far more recent. "I gave you a tough time at lunch, and you didn't deserve it. When you declined to work with me on your father's project, I took it personally."

An owl hooted somewhere outside and the wind rustled the leaves of the hedge before he replied. "The decision was personal, for me at least."

"I understand that now. Jon told me."