Page 12 of Reinventing Cato
Cato accessedUDrive’swebsite to try to book a car but there was no way to enter today’s date. It only offered bookings from tomorrow. Now he’d decided he desperately needed to get to London, it looked like he was stuck.
All the rental desks had huge queues, lines snaking around the entire concourse. If he’d have arrived a few minutes later, he’d have stood no chance. Maybe he still didn’t. The people behind him were complaining about the wait. Cato stared at the back of the tall guy two in front of him. The collar of his Crombie coat was turned up, the tips of his ears just visible in his dark silky hair. He had a bag on the floor at his feet and when the man being dealt with at the desk finally moved away, keys in his hand and triumphant smirk on his florid face, the guy pushed his bag forward with his foot and everyone shuffled up.
“Excuse me, everyone,” called the woman behind the desk. “If you don’t have a vehicle reserved, I’m afraid there’s no point waiting.”
Damn.Cato stepped out of the line, along with the woman immediately in front of him. The family and the guy in the expensive coat didn’t. So much for the cassock helping.
“Is anyone going anywhere near Coventry?” asked the woman who’d been ahead of him in the queue.
Her question set off a number of others, people trying to cadge lifts from those with cars booked. Good idea, though there were more people wanting lifts than people offering. Cato kept his mouth shut and watched the dark-haired guy go up to the desk. Anywhere south of here, he’d take, though he’d have to persuade him first.
When the man was handed his keys and moved away, Cato followed. Before they reached the door to the compound where the hire cars were kept, Cato stepped to his side.
“Excuse me,” Cato said.
The guy turned and Cato looked into a face that was so stunningly good-looking, but so completely unfriendly, that what he’d been going to say flew out of his head. Thatneverhappened.
“Yes?” The guy narrowed his eyes.
Cato pulled himself together. “I’m desperate to get back to London today. Is there any chance you’re going south and could give me a lift? Or if you’re going north, any major city with a rail connection would do.”What? North? Am I crazy?“I’d pay for the petrol. Share the driving if you want to put me on the insurance.”
“No.”
The guy turned away and Cato was pissed off. “Why not?” he snapped.
The man turned, a glare on his face.
“Sorry.” Cato sagged. “You don’t know me from Adam. I promise I’m not a serial killer, or any sort of killer.” He smiled. The guy didn’t.Do I need to tell him it was a joke?
“You can’t exorcise demons?” the guy asked.
Cato saw a ray of hope. “Yes, obviously, but I don’t kill them. I just tell them they’ve been naughty boys, give them a smack and send them back to where they came from.”Shut the fuck up, Cato.That was too much.“I just need to get south.”
“Or north?”
Cato bristled at the incredulous look on the guy’s face.
“Preferably south. North if it gets me to a rail station, though I’m not sure the trains are going to be running. I really don’t want to spend the night lying on the airport floor. I’d be incredibly grateful if you could give me a lift.”
“I have to take the car back to Heathrow. Will that do?”
Oh my God, he’s saying yes!“That would be great.”
The guy glanced back at the queue that had reformed in front of theUDrivedesk. “Forget the insurance. I’ll drive.”
Cato wanted to kiss him. Actually, hedidwant to kiss him. But he needed the lift more. He held out his hand. “I’m Cato.”
“Nice to meet you, Father Cato. I’m Vigge.”
“Which piece of IKEA furniture are you?”Damn.“Sorry.”
“I’m not Swedish.”
“Your name’s Scandinavian.”
“Which makes me a piece of IKEA furniture?”
“Possibly.” He winced. “Lack of coffee, sorry.”
