Page 117 of The Side Road
‘You can do those things at my place. Come on, up you get.’
‘You can’t make me.’
‘I have your dog.’
He entered the room, placing the coffee and two paracetamol tablets on the bedside table.
‘Blackmail.’ She yawned and pulled back the covers. ‘If Icome with you, will you give me one of those magical painkillers? A whole one this time.’
‘I’ll give you half of one – tonight.’
‘More blackmail. I’m in too much pain to argue.’ She sipped her coffee and took the painkillers.
He opened her wardrobe and sorted through her clothes. ‘Why don’t you wear this?’ He tossed her cinnamon jumper on the bed. She smiled; it was his favourite. A new pair of sweatpants followed. She could get herself dressed.
On the way out the front door, he passed Quinn to her. She hugged the chicken to her chest.
Snood saton Mia’s feet, whining and shivering with excitement, then he pulled his lips back and grinned. The dog was happy to see her. Mia dropped to her knees and hugged him. In three years, they had not spent a night apart.
‘I know,’ Mia said. ‘I’ve missed you, too.’
‘I’ve made a bed for you outside, close to the garage,’ Oliver said.
‘A bed?’
Leaving the house, they scaled the back steps and headed across the paving. A vintage car in immaculate condition was parked in the garage driveway.
‘This is some car,’ Mia said. ‘What colour would you call this?’
‘Goodwood Green.’
For no reason, she kicked the tyre. Oliver laughed.
The Parker lounge was once again on the terrace. Covered in cushions and a rug, it looked wonderfully warm and comfortable.
‘Can I have a cup of tea and toast?’ she asked.
‘You can.’
Mia snuggled into the sofa, hugged Quinn, and pulled the rug over herself. When she patted the end of the sofa, Snood jumped up. He curled in on himself and closed his eyes. With Mia safely beside him, he could finally relax.
Oliver returned with the tea and toast, along with more painkillers. When she finished eating, she placed the plate and mug on the ground, closed her eyes and slept.
All morning, Oliver worked on the car while Mia dozed. She slept on her back, resting her broken arm above her head. When that became uncomfortable, she rolled onto her side and cradled the plaster cast to her chest. The reverberating hum of the car engine was comforting, and when she woke, it lulled her back to sleep. Between naps, she watched Oliver as he worked. He caught her once, watching him, and held her gaze. The look he gave her was so profound, she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. In her mind, she imagined him smiling at her.
Lunch was ham and salad sandwiches with hot mustard and mayonnaise on wholemeal bread, served with more painkillers.
As she sipped a lime cordial, she said, ‘I’ve never been this lazy in my entire life. Can you tell me something about this car?’
‘It belongs to a friend. It’s a 1963 Aston Martin DB5. Just like the one from James Bond.’
‘What’s wrong with it?’
‘It has three carburettors – they all need servicing – and they must sync perfectly. Not an easy task. Takes a top mechanic and the owner is very particular about who touches this car. It’s his baby – worth about two million.’
She blinked. ‘Did you just say two million?’
It waslate afternoon when Oliver wiped his hands on a rag. The job finished, the carburettors were now running smoothly. After catching her eye, he said, ‘I’m going inside to write an invoice. Can I get you anything?’
