Page 43 of Full Service

“The very same. Now, there seems to be a knocking coming from the engine…” Calvin led me through all the problems, and I sensed the car had been driven for a particularly long timebefore any of the problems were brought to light. I offered to take the car, find the issues and give it a full service.

“Fantastic, thank you. We’ll be staying in Aberystwyth for a couple of weeks so there’s absolutely no rush.” Calvin’s eyes turned from his wife’s Porsche to the burgundy Aston Martin I’d been fixing up. “Is that one yours?”

“No, I’ve just been looking after it for my…a friend,” I said.

“What a beauty. Can I take a look inside? I’ve got quite the collection of vintage Aston Martins…Marjorie indulges me with that, of course. I’m a kept man.” As if in a trance, Calvin stepped toward the car with a reverence reserved for royalty and gods.

I opened the door for him and he gave me an inquiring glance. I nodded, and he sat inside, sinking into the leather seat and placing his hands on the wheel. He smiled at me, a perfect movie-star smile hidden within that age-lined face.

“She’s beautiful,” he said. One perfectly manicured nail traced down the contours of the radio and came to rest on the gearstick. Calvin stepped out with one final pat of the wooden steering wheel and something like regret on his face.

“I’d be willing to pay a good amount for a car like that,” he said. He took a card from his wallet and handed it to me. “Call me when you’re done with the Porsche…and pass my details on to that friend, if they’re not too attached.”

“Thanks,” I said idly as he walked away. I pocketed the card and watched them drive the much newer Aston Martin out of the yard. If he really had such a collection, I’d better do a bloody good job on the Porsche.

My thoughts had swung back to Hywel, and my head was a mix of conflicting thoughts and feelings. I wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t want to go back into town with an apology when I still didn’t know what that apology meant. What I wanted, and what he wanted.

“Fuck it,” I said to myself. I had to stop being such a fucking flake and see the man.

I ran to the flat to grab my car keys, locked up the flat and the garage and got in my own car. In my current state, there was no way I would be getting behind the wheel of Hywel’s car. If he wanted it, he could come back here and get it. I fired up the engine and reversed, only to be stopped in my tracks by a postman rounding the corner and holding out a letter.

***

Was I angry? No. Sad? I had no fucking idea at this point. I just…

Hywel. Why was he such an enigma? As I drove into the village proper I couldn’t stop glancing over at the little letter that I’d gotten from the postman, sat innocently in the passenger seat. If I was confused about Hywel before, that letter had now completely and utterly discombobulated me.

I parked up opposite the cafe. There were Christmas lights in all the shop windows but the café particularly stood out as James had gone all out on the Christmas festivities. I knew he’d be in there working just like he’d told me before. And as I closed the car door behind me, letter in hand I could see him. Just sat in the window typing away on the laptop like he didn’t have a care in the world.

I walked across the road and entered the cafe. If I’d been expecting a big entrance, I didn’t get one. The door shut silently behind me and Hywel didn’t even look up. Neither did many of the other patrons. Only James gave me a little wave from behind the counter.

“What the fuck is this?” I asked. I faced Hywel, letter still in hand and what I hoped was an imposing look on my face.

“A letter?” he didn’t look up at me, but I could see a smile playing at the edge of his lips.

“I know it’s a fucking letter, I just…” I stopped for a second, trying to consider my own thoughts. Trying to get something eloquent and sensible out. All I managed was… “Fuckingwhy?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” Finally Hywel looked up at me. And I could have gotten lost in those gorgeous sea-green eyes. I was conscious now that every coffee drinker was looking at us, many of whom had known me since I was a baby. And They knew I had a reputation for doing stupid things, for flying off the handle and not dealing with things properly. I gave Hywel a tight smile and walked over to the counter to order a coffee from James.

James poured out the latte with a little smirk on his face that I couldn’t quite place.

“What’s with the look?” I asked him as he passed over the steaming hot cup, a little biscuit placed jauntily on the saucer below.

“It’s happening again,” he said. “It just keeps bloody happening.”

When no further explanation came I took the mug, passed a fiver over the counter and turned back to Hywel. As I picked my way past chintzy leather chairs and tables made of pallets I could feel the eyes of everyone on me. In the opposite corner to Hywel were Beca and Prentis. Beca trained her beady eyes on me and Prentis’ eyes were trained on me over the top of his mug.

Hywel didn’t even have the bloody grace to look up at me. Just kept typing away at his laptop with his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. I cleared my throat, and he looked up. I felt like he was deliberately trying to drive me insane. And it was working.

“May I?” I asked.

“Sure.” Hywel moved away some papers from the side of the table with the empty chair and I sat in it, spilling a bit of coffee when I put it down because my hands had started to tremble.

Click-click-click. Hywel carried on typing and it was infuriating. I tried my best to keep my cool, to take a deep breath in and let a longer one out. When that didn’t work and I couldn’t even pick up my cup because my hand was shaking so much, I finally spoke.

“Won’t you just fucking look at me?” I said. Perhaps a bit louder than intended because the little noise in the cafe stopped completely. Hywel smirked and closed his laptop before finally looking at me with those beautiful green eyes.

I pushed the letter over the table at him. “Please, tell me. What is this meant to be?”

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