Page 44 of The London Girls
‘Hmm?’
He looked up at her, his eyebrows drawn together as he stared at her. ‘To make you fall off,’ he said. ‘Was something obstructing the road?’
Ava cleared her throat, breaking eye contact with him and shrugging properly out of her jacket for something to do. He swore under his breath as he looked at her shoulder, and it was only then she noticed that even the shirt she wore beneath her jacket was torn. She’d really done a number on herself.
‘I, ah – well, I think I was going slightly too fast,’ she said quickly. ‘I tried to brake but I overcorrected and ...’ Ava gulped,glancing back at him. ‘I’m sorry, I know you must be furious with me. It was a stupid mistake and I was distracted and ...’
‘Did you perform a full mechanical roadside check on the bike? You had your tools with you?’
It wasn’t often she blushed, but she felt a deep pink heat spread across her face as he watched her.
‘No,’ she admitted.
‘Because you’ve spent the past weeks batting your eyelids and convincing someone else to do your mechanical work for you, and you didn’t know how?’
She couldn’t see the point in lying. ‘Yes.’
‘Christ, Ava! You have the opportunity to keep yourself safe, you’ve been given all the training possible, and yet you’ve chosen to let yourself be helpless out there!’
She bristled, pulling away from him and slipping her jacket back over her shoulder. ‘I amnothelpless, thank you very much.’
‘Only when there’s no one around to convince to do the work for you. Don’t try telling me I’m wrong.’
Ava let go of a breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding, hating how angry he was with her and wishing he’d stop raising his voice. ‘Look, I’m sorry about the motorcycle. It won’t happen again.’
‘I don’t give a damn about the bike, Ava,’ George muttered as he rose. ‘Motorcycles can be replaced, humans can’t.’
Ava watched him go, surprised when he spun back around.
‘You know what, Ava?’ George said. ‘One of my riders is in hospital tonight; she’s not expected to make it. So if you wonder why I’m so hard on you? That’s why.’
She went still. ‘Not Olivia?’Please God, don’t let it be Olivia!
‘No, not Olivia. It’s Jenny.’
George turned on his heel then and Ava blinked away tears. She wanted to hate him so much, but he was right. She shouldhave studied harder and done the work herself. When her bike had broken down, she’d been scared and felt completely hopeless, and she’d hated it. And poor Jenny; it broke her heart thinking one of their own was so badly injured.
She hissed out a breath as she took her jacket off again, looking at her shoulder and wishing she’d kept her mouth shut long enough for him to finish bandaging it. Ava stood and picked up the first-aid supplies, deciding she’d convince her mother to help her when she got home instead.
Ava unlocked her front door and stepped gingerly inside, taking her coat off. She was surprised how much her body hurt, how stiff her shoulder was and how achy her leg had become with each step. But it was finding her mother standing in the hallway, wringing her hands together, that made her stop walking.
‘Ava.’ Her mother’s voice was barely a whisper.
‘I fell off my bike,’ she said, starting to take her coat off. ‘I need help with—’
Her father strode with such speed from his study that she didn’t notice the panicked look on her mother’s face until it was too late. His face was red, and when he stopped barely an inch from her face, she could smell the alcohol on his breath.
‘How dare you set foot in this house after disobeying me!’
She shrugged her coat back on properly and went to open her mouth, to say something in her defence, but the moment she did that, she knew it was the wrong thing to do. Her father’s open palm connected with her cheek so fast that she didn’t have time to move. She was so tired, so sore, that she’d let her guard down, and his hand slapped hard against her skin, stinging her cheek and making her teeth rattle in her jaw.
‘I’m sorry,’ she stammered, nursing her face as he stood over her, his anger palpable as she cowered.
‘Your mother has packed your things,’ he said, smoothing his hands down his waistcoat, as if to banish imaginary wrinkles. ‘This is no longer your home.’
‘Daddy, please!’ Ava begged, crying now as he turned and walked away from her. ‘You can’t do this to me! I’ve been in an accident, you can’t just kick me out!’
‘You brought this upon yourself,’ he muttered.
