He poked at a button on the dashboard. Nothing happened.
‘A little rust bucket, more like,’ he muttered. ‘If this is all you got for the money you should have got from my Jeep, then you were well and truly done.’
She gave him a sideways glance. ‘I’m not stupid. I didn’t spend all of the money on this. I’m perfectly capable of buying a car without your input, you know.’
He snorted. ‘Adele, capable is your middle name. Why would I ever think you needed me for anything?’
‘Now you’re just being ridiculous.’
Nick turned away to do up his seat belt.
Adele followed suit. ‘I suppose you’d like me to be a bit more like blondie over there, falling all over you and worshipping at your feet? Does she always wander round in just a vest top and a pair of knickers? She must be very resilient to the cold.’
Nick’s lips stayed firmly clamped together as he smiled. ‘She’s from Sweden. She’s used to it.’
Adele crunched the gear stick into place and checked the rear-view mirror, scowling.
‘Of course, sometimes she forgets to wear the vest,’ he added.
She yanked at the handbrake.
Nick chuckled. ‘I’m kidding, Adele. Lighten up. We’ve got a long journey ahead. I thought we could stop in the Midlands around lunchtime. Let’s make nice, polite conversation until then.’
‘You do the talking. I’m driving.’
‘OK. Now, what shall we talk about? I know. Going back to our earlier conversation, there was at least one thing you needed me for. Begged me for on occasion, if I recall rightly.’
Adele hunched over the steering wheel and said nothing. At this rate, Nick would be lucky if he was still alive by lunchtime.
CHAPTER FOUR
A LORRY hulked past in the outside lane and Adele gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. What was it about being overtaken by one of those monsters that made you sure you were going to veer off the road and end up in a heap of twisted metal?
Nick was fumbling in the rucksack at his feet. She flicked a look over and breathed a sigh of relief. He had one of his gadgets in his hand—probably his iPod—and she’d have a few moments’ peace if he plugged himself in.
Much to her annoyance he started fixing a big sucker with an arm attached to the windscreen.
‘What on earth are you up to now?’
Nick just grinned. ‘Just wait and see. You’ll love it.’
Another truck decided to overtake with millimetres to spare and she fixed her eyes on the motorway lane in front of her. When she had a chance to look again, Nick was huddled over the gadget, pressing buttons in rapid succession. It beeped back at him. He reached over and fixed it into the cradle stuck to the windscreen.
‘Satellite navigation,’ he said proudly.
She rolled her eyes then concentrated on keeping well back from the car in front.
‘I should have guessed that eventually you would get a whole host of gizmos to do your thinking for you, especially now I’m not around.’
‘You’re sitting right next to me. You are around.’
‘You know what I mean. You’re a typical man. God forbid you actually pick up the road atlas.’
‘Adele, you would never let me within ten feet of the road atlas. Admit it, sweetheart, you just don’t like giving up the control.’
‘So not true. I just like having something to do on long journeys.’
And she’d been looking for a distraction, something to take her mind off the man sitting so close to her that all her nerve-endings were sizzling with awareness and she was constantly on edge.
Come on, who liked being replaced by a machine? She glared at the contraption as it sat in its cradle.
‘What happens if that thing gets you hopelessly lost?’
Nick leaned back and stretched his legs out. ‘Impossible. That’s the beauty of it. The information is always at your fingertips. It pinpoints exactly where you are, night and day.’
She stopped glaring and studied the display. Maybe she should give it a go?
‘It never goes wrong?’
Nick shrugged. ‘It’s a machine. It has its moments but, on the whole, it’s as accurate as you would be. Just about perfect.’
Adele sighed. Perfect. How she was learning to hate that word.
She knew all about the pressures of having to be right one hundred per cent of the time, of having everyone expecting you to be perfect. No, not just expecting—relying on you being perfect. It was such a strain to have to juggle everything and never having the luxury of knowing that, if you dropped a ball once in a while, it didn’t matter.
The rattle from the engine warned her that her foot had been heavier on the accelerator than she had intended. Eighty-five? Whoops. She carefully eased off the pedal.
A cut-glass, metallic voice pierced the silence. ‘In nine hundred feet, take the next exit.’
Adele squinted at the display, but the sun was on it and she couldn’t see it properly.
‘That means get over into the other lane, Adele. We’re going to miss the exit if you don’t.’
Easier said than done. Half the traffic on the motorway was trying to leave by that exit and there wasn’t a space to slip into. She tried to find a gap without causing a pile-up, but there were too many cars all packed too closely together.
‘Take the next exit. Take the next exit.’
By the time she had checked her mirrors again and tried to slow down, it was too late. The rust bucket sailed right past the cluttered slip-road.
Nick threw his hands in the air. ‘Great!’
She glared at him. ‘It would have been easier if you’d just let me rely on my own eyes and ears and read the signs! I’m not used to using this stupid—’
The sat nav interrupted her with a persistent binging noise. A huge question mark flashed on its screen. ‘Perform an U-turn as soon as possible,’ it ordered in an infuriatingly calm manner.
‘Be quiet, you bossy woman!’ she yelled back. ‘We’re on a motorway. I thought you were supposed to know that!’
Nick threw his head back and roared with laughter.
Of course, he would find it funny.
The service station was a welcome sight, although not the most glamorous of locations. Adele leapt out of the car and headed for the Ladies’. Once there, she placed her hands on the shelf in front of a wide mirror and leaned forward to let them take her weight.
She breathed out and stared at herself. Her hair was still in its pony-tail and she looked as neat and tidy as always, but as she studied her reflection she could tell she was coming slightly unravelled. It was something about her eyes, a slight downturn of her mouth.
She stared until she thought she would go cross-eyed and then she straightened, pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin.
It was a familiar routine. One she’d learned at school when she needed to present a brave face