sound of their breathing, panting. Dark.
He pulled out. Gently flicked her knickers back into place with one finger. Eased her up with strong hands until she was leaning back against the warmth of his chest and it felt weirdly familiar as he held her. Then he seemed to realise. Slowly dropped his arms away and she could almost feel him setting the distance between them.
“You okay?”
She nodded. Tugged at her lower lip with sharp teeth, because she didn’t know what else to do.
And he was off the bike, passed her a helmet wordlessly and they were back on the road heading for the town before she could think of a single thing to say to him. He weaved his way round the edge of town and pulled up outside her home, the old family home that she’d just returned to after years away, without even asking where she needed dropping.
Georgie clambered off the bike. Stood awkwardly on the kerb and he reached out, straightened her dress down. Flipped his visor up.
“Who said I lived here?”
“Who’d have thought sweet little Georgina would turn into such a naughty girl?”
Georgie stared at him. She’d never even thought he knew her name when they were at school, and she’d not been back in town for years. The witch called Carol had made sure of that. She’d sweet talked Alfie into alternating between keeping her in the mouldy mansion in the back of beyond and sending her off to a stuffy boarding school to wear big knickers and starchy shirts. Anywhere that meant they didn’t have to do anything, could just ignore her. Georgie refused to think of him as ‘Dad’ any more, he was Alfie. Carol’s conquest. Carol’s puppet. Well they couldn’t ignore her now she was big enough to say no.
“Is that what they teach you at posh schools these days?”
It was like he’d read her mind. “Better than learning how to balance a book on your head.”
“Can you do that too?” He looked grave, serious. Was studying her like he thought he’d made a mistake.
“Not at the same time.”
This time he ignored the flippant comment, didn’t join in with the banter. “Don’t let having it all fuck you up, Georgie girl.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“There’s nothing wrong with nice.” Which was even more confusing.
He flicked his visor down, so all she could see was the dark shadow of his eyes.
“Do you want to come in?” She hadn’t meant to say it, she never said it. But it just came spilling out.
“No thanks. You got what you wanted, better to leave it at that, eh?” He revved up the bike hard, swung it in a tight circle and she was left standing on the pavement with the smell of exhaust fumes acrid in her nostrils.
Prick. Georgie slammed the door behind her, dropped her purse in the hallway and headed for the kitchen. He’d got what he wanted as well, hadn’t he? Wasn’t that what it was about? She glanced at the bottles of white wine that lined the fridge, then with a sigh reached for the bottle of water.
It was the way he’d looked at her. A mixture of anger and concern. A bit like the look her father used to give her when she’d been naughty and he’d been asking her why. He was one hundred per cent sober, unlike her, but he’d had this restrained anger about him that made her want to call him back. Ask him why. But she never did that. Never asked. Not any more, not these days.
And he was wrong, whatever he meant. There was a hell of a lot wrong with nice. Being nice, having nice. Nice had left her with a shit life and no-one who gave a monkeys about her. Nice was a one way street.
She tipped what was left of her drink down the sink. At least being bad meant she got something back.
“What has got into you?” Ella put her feet up on the glass topped coffee table so that they could both admire her new shoes. “Pissing off is one thing, but you never even answered my texts.”
Georgie could hear a note of hurt and felt an instant stab of guilt. “I’m sorry. Really sorry.” She knew what it felt like to be ignored so she didn’t often do it. Well, not to friends. She picked at a loose thread on the cushion she was holding. “He’s an ass. An insufferable jerked up ass.”
“So you said.”
“I’m sorry. But how can he be so fucking sanctimonious about being nice? I mean, since when did he do what he was supposed to?”
“Exactly.”
There was a dry edge to her tone and Georgie glanced up sharply. “Meaning?”
“What is it about you and bad boys?”
“You should try it.” She felt the grin creep onto her face. “That motorbike—”
“Georgie!”
“Sorry, just saying.”
“I mean, if you’re doing it for the kicks then fine, I suppose. But you’re really doing it to piss off your dad and Carol, aren’t you?” She paused. “Aren’t you?”
“Can we drop the lecture? I’ve got a bad enough headache as it is.”
Ella sighed. “Fine. So, why did you leave so early?”
“That dick from the restaurant was hassling me, and I was tired.”
“The city wanker?”
“That’s the one. I wish I’d just poured the contents of the ice bucket over him after he’d paid the bill, they were just so pissed up and loud I’m sure all the other customers would have thanked me.”
“At least a guy like that wouldn’t use you.”
“Just fuck me you mean?”
“You know what I mean, at least you’d know he wanted your body and not your money.”
“Ella, I can’t believe you just said that. He was a complete slime-ball.” She shuddered. “Can you imagine him slobbering and pawing all over you?”
“No, I can’t believe I said it really.” Ella sighed. “But those down and out guys you keep flirting with just screw you around.”
“I like being screwed.”
She laughed. “You know what I mean. You pay for everything, they get the high life, then—”
“Then I dump them, if they really try it on.” The only time she’d really got burned was with the guy who’d managed to nick her credit card and run up a mega bill before it had even occurred to her that it could be him. And she wasn’t falling for that one again. She had thought there was something a bit shifty about him, but the way he’d pinned her to the bed and made her do exactly what he wanted had turned her on something rotten. He’d been rough and he’d talked dirty, telling her just what he was going to do to her. Her body started to liquefy just at the thought. Nice. Well, it had been for a while. Until the novelty had worn off and he’d stuck his grubby fingers in her purse.
“But don’t you want a nice guy, one you’re not looking for an excuse to dump?”
“No, Ella. Now stop sounding like grumpy old Alfie. When I’m ready to give up on life and settle down with some rich namby-pamby mummy’s boy and breed, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Really?”
“Don’t hold your breath though, it could be a one way trip to asphyxiation.”
Ella shook her head. “I give up. Are we supposed to be working?”
“Yeah.”