I Take You: Part 3 of 3. Nikki Gemmell

they fall back and watch, shoulder to shoulder. Immediately the chair looks vulnerable, it veers off, starts to tip and Mel rushes up and catches it just in time. No thanks from Cliff, just an exasperated sigh as once again he struggles with the buttons and knobs; the alpha man from the alpha world, humiliated. Turning it on and off, trying to churn it forward with a sheer raging will that is impotent. ‘You’ll rip her insides out if you keep doing that,’ Mel remarks softly.

      ‘Oh, fuck off.’

      The chair firms again and lurches off the grass, rumbles across the gravel.

      ‘You see, she’s doing it!’

      Then he catches Mel’s face behind him. ‘Are you helping it? Are you?’

      ‘It won’t do it by itself, sir. It’s shot.’

      ‘Fuck off. I’ve just paid a hell of a lot of money for this.’

      Without another word the gardener picks up his shovel and strides off. The chair stops immediately, there’s a sickening grate of knobs, nothing works.