Page 26 of Reinventing Cato
“What were you thinking?”
“I wondered if we might get stuck in the snow and be forced to seek shelter at some lonely inn. If it’s called The Bates Motel, you can go first in the shower.”
Vigge laughed. “If the only choice is a place called The Bates Motel, I’d rather sleep in the car.”
“Maybe you’re feeling too tired to drive any further and I’m concerned you might fall asleep at the wheel. That would be the end of your police career, right?”
“Yes.”
“Or maybe you were listening to the radio while I was zonked out and heard the devastating news that we’d just entered—inexplicably, science-wise, so don’t get me started on the logic of some of those ridiculous disaster movies—a new ice age. Anyway, apparently, the UK is doomed to be a frozen wasteland and this is our last night in the world and not to be wasted.”
“For a scientist, you have a vivid imagination.”
“Albert Einstein said, Imagination is more important than knowledge.Not entirely true, but dealing with unfamiliar, and as yet inexplicable worlds requires a healthy imagination.”
“What are you imagining now?”
“Something very simple. Only needs three words. You, me, bed.”
Well, now he’d said it. And despite all he’d thought last night about making a change in the way he behaved, the universal law of gravity was telling him that he and Vigge would be great together.
Vigge kept his eyes on the road. “What about the job interview?”
“I’m anticipating that the snow will miraculously disappear overnight so that when we set off at seven-ish, after a good night’s sleep, well, an hour or so of sleep, after an energetic exploration of exciting new worlds, there’ll still be plenty of time to get to London.” Cato’s heart did a thumpity-thump.
He’d laid his cards on the proverbial table. Vigge was either interested or he wasn’t. Cato’s cock had already started to swell in anticipation.
“Is there a motel at the next service station?” Vigge asked.
“Yes. Travelodge.”
“See if they have a room.”
Cato checked. “Yes. Shall I book it?”
“No, I just wanted you to see if they had a room.”
He managed to laugh at that. A few moments later, it was booked and paid for. “They only have a single. But I can lie on top of you, right?”
“Hmm.”
“You didn’t say no.”
Fifteen long minutes later, Vigge indicated to pull off the motorway and parked outside the motel. When the engine was off and Vigge continued to just sit there, Cato reached across and took hold of his hand. For a moment, he thought Vigge was going to pull away and his pulse spiked, but Vigge turned and looked at him, then stared down at their joined hands.
“We’re all grown up,” Cato said. “We can do what we want or we can do nothing.”
“I’m going to be very disappointed if we do nothing.”
“Nowyou’re saying yes?”
Vigge laughed. “Let’s get inside. Promise not to unscrew any lightbulbs.”
“You’re no fun at all.”
Chapter Five
They grabbed their coats and bags and Vigge locked the car. Cato didn’t bother putting his coat on. They were only a few metres from the motel. But as they stepped into the bright warmth of the lobby, he saw Vigge register it was going to look as if he was sharing a room with a priest, and the subsequent concern on his face.
