Page 14 of Christmas in Mistletoe
Ruby glanced at Fran’s hands gripping the wheel. Her nails were polished, and short. Her hands looked strong, too. Capable. They’d only met a few times, but already Ruby knew that about Fran. Also, that she was persistent.
“In fact,” Fran continued, flicking her indicator and turning right. “My parents are getting it serviced for me this weekend. I keep missing the dates they’ve booked in, and they insisted I didn’t miss this one. It’s been over two years since I had it done, which is way overdue. Is it shameful to admit that at the age of 36, I still don’t pay for my car to be serviced?”
Ruby laughed. “Canny is more the word I’d choose. If I could get my parents to give me a car and pay for its upkeep, I would, too. Sadly, I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon.” Ruby made herself comfortable. “Has it got a name?”
Fran shook her head. “It doesn’t. I just call it Car.”
“Very creative. Perhaps you and my sister have something in common. You called your car, Car, and she called her bar, The Bar. Very literal.”
Fran glanced her way. “Do you and your sister get on?”
Ruby nodded. “Now we do, but it was touch and go in our younger years.”
“Then there’s hope for us yet.”
Getting out of London on a Friday evening was just as sticky as Ruby had imagined. The M11 was way too popular, and a light snowfall had just begun.
Fran flicked on her lights along with her windscreen wipers. At least she didn’t need constant chat. The radio had been the soundtrack to their journey so far, which was fine with Ruby. They were currently in a jam, with no sign of it easing. Ruby sucked on the inside of her cheek. When she glanced at Fran, she was doing the same.
“Here’s the next smash hit from Delilah, called ‘Losing You’,” said the DJ.
Fran flinched, before leaning forward and turning the radio off. She grabbed her phone from the centre console and plugged it in. Spotify flashed up on her screen. Fran slid her finger left, then right, until music filled the car.
Ruby tapped along for a few moments before she spoke. “Not a Delilah fan? I would have expected the opposite. I thought you worked with her?”
Fran gave her a slow nod. “I did, so I’ve heard her stuff a lot. Plus, things didn’t end well.”
Ruby sat up. “She wasn’t great to work with?”
“She was at first.” Fran took a deep breath. “I signed her, but now her immediate team has changed. It happens.” Fran shrugged. “I wasn’t that involved in her last album. The first one, though, was the two of us driving it from the start.”
Fran cleared her throat, looking straight ahead. The traffic began to move, and she pressed the accelerator.
Ruby didn’t want to pry, but her curiosity was piqued. She couldn’t imagine being as big as Delilah, having her hits known around the world and playing to massive stadiums. It was never what she’d got into music for, but she’d love to experience it once.
However, Ruby loved the intimate connection with her fans. She usually gigged in places where she could see their faces. She even knew their names. Her hardcore fans came to most of her gigs when they could, and she often had a drink with them in the bar afterwards. She couldn’t imagine Delilah being able to do that.
“I didn’t realise you were so involved. That must have been exciting, being a part of a career that really blew up like that.”
Fran didn’t take her eyes off the road as they finally got over 20mph. She gave Ruby the faintest of nods as the snow fell that little bit harder. Seconds later, the traffic slowed again. “It was for a while.”
There was an edge to Fran’s tone that Ruby couldn’t quite nail down. “Is it true she’s queer? I’ve seen her out with guys and girls, but you never know what to believe. I’m nobody, but I’ve had fans question whether my flatmate and me are together.” Ruby eyed Fran. “For the record, we’re not. Tom is just as queer as me.”
Fran gave Ruby a wide grin. But that was soon wiped off her face as a loud bang made them both jump.
Instinctively, Ruby turned around, but it wasn’t on the inside of the car.
Fran turned the music down. The car moved forward slowly with an ominous guttural sound. When she pressed on the accelerator, it sounded like the engine was eating itself. Either that, or Fran was the worst type of boy racer.
Ruby put a hand to her chest. “What the fuck is that? It sounds like something is dragging.”
Fran winced then gripped the steering wheel, leaning forward as if searching for answers. “Not sure, but maybe something fell off the car?” She shook her head. “Fuck, my dads are going to kill me for not getting this serviced sooner.”
The tops of Ruby’s ears prickled. The noise wasn’t letting up. “Do you think it’s your exhaust?” It was just a guess; Ruby was no mechanic. She glanced out the window and pointed. “Look! There’s an emergency layby just there, can you aim for that?” What a stroke of luck.
Fran nodded, then steered the car left.
They both winced again at the sound it made.
