Page 19 of Love Punch

“How the hell did you ever pass your test?” he asked.

“Hard work and perseverance?” I tried, but the sidelong look he gave me told me he didn’t believe a word. We got out of the car, but he wasn’t done with the questions, it seemed.

“How many attempts did it take you?” he asked.

“One.”

“One try? To pass your driving test? Likethat?” Bradley shook his head.

“The examiner may have called me the worst pass he had ever given,” I admitted. “He said he wasitchingto fail me, but I didn’t make quite enough mistakes in the right areas to justify it.”

“You shouldn’t sound proud of that.”

“So call the chauffeur,” I waved my hand. “Driving isn’t my job.” My job was to assist, and I assisted very well.

“Where are we, anyway?” Bradley asked, looking around. The car park was a small one, with an information sign at the other end. It was in the middle of a little village—well, hamlet really—that looked like it hadn’t moved forward since the 1700s.

“Ah, so you haven’t been. We’re near to two landmarks: Offa’s Dyke and the Wales-England border.”

“So that’s why you made me wear these,” said Bradley, pointing to his welly boots.

I nodded, giving him a quick once-over. It was weird seeing him dressed and outside of work, not in his customary tracksuit bottoms and tank but in wellies, cargo trousers and a gilet. All he needed was a farmer’s cap and he would fit right in with the Peaky Blinders, and I was digging the look. I was wearing wellies but had otherwise kept to my usual style. I didn’t have many outdoor clothes, but I’d always wanted to do this walk.

I checked my phone to orient myself in the right direction, then began to walk. I could hear Bradley’s wellies crunching on the gravel behind me, and then we were out onto the quiet, sleepy road with twists and turns that had tested my patience and ability to manoeuvre the Rover.

I walked through the little village with Bradley at my back, and the pavements were so narrow that he couldn’t move to my side until we reached the small river.

“The Avon Mynwyg,” I explained, as we sat down on one pebbly bank.

“I used to come and swim in the river all the time as a kid. Dunno if it was this one, though,” said Bradley.

“How can you not know if you swam in this river?”

“Dunno. Mud, water, some pebbles—all looks the same to me.” Bradley grabbed one of the aforementioned pebbles and skippedit expertly over the water. “Stones skip the same wherever you go.”

I grabbed a pebble and threw it, cringing at thethunkwhen it sank to the bottom. “I think I just killed a couple of cod.”

“Cod are sea fish,” muttered Bradley as if it were obvious.

”So you don’t know the name of the river that runs a few miles from your childhood home, but you know where cod live? Make it make sense.”

Bradley shrugged. “My brain isn’t academic, as every teacher I’ve ever had will tell you. I’m more…I dunno. Visual? No, that’s not it. Physical, maybe. I used to swim in the river or go fishing with my granddad. So I learned those things. They were important. Maths is important when it comes to my boxing weight. I read boxing magazines as a kid. I could tell you the name of every championship boxer for the last thirty years, and a good few before that. But I just never bothered to learn stuff if it didn’t matter to me.”

“I only did academia,” I confessed. “Everything at home felt like stuff I was forced to learn—like cooking. It wasn’t until after my uni intervention that I started taking up hobbies again. I loved drawing in my after-school clubs, so I started to do that.”

I felt like I’d revealed too much of myself to Bradley in the last few hours, but once I started it had become hard to stop. I liked him knowing more about me. I liked that in helping him, I’d ripped open the sheer cover of professionalism that had remained. And I liked that me opening up had led to him doing the same. I thought I knew everything about him. I’d been present at every interview, researched every aspect of his life I could get my hands on and watched from the sidelines as he went about being him. But to get such an intimate look inside his mind? The thought made me shiver.

“Are you cold?” Bradley asked. “It is a bit cool for April…”

“No, I’m fine. I swear,” I said. I picked up another rock and tried to skim it again, but it joined the other at the bottom of the river.

Bradley jumped to his feet, laughing. “Are you even trying?” he asked.

“I am, prick.” I tried again, but failed completely. “Fuck’s sake.”

Bradley hooked his hands under my armpits and pulled me to a standing position like I was nothing, pulling an undignified shriek from me while I found purchase on the ground.

“Watch,” he said. Hr skipped the stone across the surface of the water effortlessly.

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