Page 35 of The Alpha Escort Agency
“My nan’s a big Elvis fan. I had little choice but to like him too.”
“I haven’t heard any Elvis in years.”
“Try the gold one,” he says, his eyes flicking to the stack, “it’s got the best collection of his songs.”
Slipping the CD in the mouth, she switches the applications and places the stacks back in the glove box, shutting the door with a bang. The machine whirls into action and then the low, vibrating notes of a bass float out, followed soon by the American’s deep familiar voice. It sends a tingling sensation from his chest to the gland in his neck, especially when she sighs and sinks deeper into the leather seat.
He peers over towards her. She’s undone her mustard coat and her lap is covered by a burnt red corduroy skirt, her slim legs in thick woollen tights. He’d like to rest his hand on her knee. Maybe she has the same thought because she reaches over and takes the hand he has resting in his lap, and brings it into her own, and they sit listening to Elvis, gliding along the road.
“Would you mind if we make a quick stop somewhere before I drop you home?” He has another batch of brownies in the back that he wants to deliver to his grandad and his nan.
“Sure.”
He leaves the engine running so that she doesn’t get cold in the cab of his truck and jogs over to the door, rapping it and waiting for his grandad to answer.
“Hello there, lad. We weren’t expecting you today,” his grandad says, drawing back the door.
“It’s just a flying visit, Grandad, to deliver these,” he hands over a small tupperware tub. “I’ve got someone waiting in the cab. I can’t stay.”
“Is that Rory?” his nan calls from down the hallway.
“Go say hello quickly, will you,” his grandad whispers. “It’s not been a good day for her.”
He shouldn’t keep Alice waiting, but his grandad looks worn out, his eyelids heavy, and he can’t say no.
“Just quickly,” he says, hurrying past.
He dips inside the lounge and goes to kiss his nan. “I can’t stay. I was just dropping off some cake for you and Grandad.”
“You’ve left your engine running,” she says, creaking her body around towards the window.
His grandad walks over to it and lifts a corner of the net curtain. “He’s got a girl waiting for him in the cab.”
His nan’s eyes snap back to Rory’s. “A girl?”
He shuffles on his feet. “It’s no big deal.”
“When was the last time he had a girl in his truck, Alf?” she says.
“I do not remember.” His grandad drops the curtain and grins.
“Hmmm,” his nan says, frowning. “Well, don’t leave her out there freezing to death, bring her in for a cup of tea. Alf, put the kettle on.”
His grandad makes to move towards the doorway.
“No, we can’t stay. I’ve got to get her home,” Rory protests.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not having her thinking we’re a couple of grumpy old gits who won’t have visitors round. Go get her Rory and, Alf, use the nice teapot and put the cake on a dish, will you?”
“Yes, Mary,” his grandad answers, shuffling down the hallway.
Rory opens his mouth to argue.
“Rory Andrew West. Do not argue with your grandmother.” She wags her finger at him and his shoulders automatically slump.
When he opens the passenger door, Alice looks up at him brightly.
“They want to meet you,” he says, rubbing his chin.
