From Italy With Love

The sound brought back memories with a punch so hard it almost felled her. Tears pricked her eyes.

Cam was reversing the silver Ferrari out into the courtyard. He scowled at her through the open window. ‘You’re early.’

She shrugged. She’d had second, third and fourth thoughts about coming at all. When she’d phoned Ron to accept the terms of the will, he’d immediately suggested she travel up to York and meet up with Cam to sort things out. A test drive had not been on her agenda. Although, she told herself sternly, what had she imagined? She could just rock up at the garage at Merryview, get the keys and set off down to the Channel Tunnel?

Even though it made perfect sense, it still pissed her off that Cam had taken the initiative.

‘Are you coming or not?’

‘Not,’ she scowled back.

He ignored her, leaned over and opened the passenger door.

Through the open door, she could see the red leather seat, the dash. Cam looked at her, challenge in his eyes.

If she stayed put she’d just look stupid.

The engine roared, as if impatient at being kept waiting and the sound howled around the courtyard, bouncing over the diamond pane windows and the honey brick walls. The car, a streak of silver, shimmered before her as her eyes blurred.

Belatedly remembering a promise to Robert, she took her phone from her bag and took a quick picture.

She stepped forward to get into the passenger seat which was on the right hand side. Of course the car was a left hand drive. It hadn’t occurred to her that it would be. Awkwardly she lowered herself into the car, one leg having to stretch right over into the footwell to get down into the low slung seat. Folding your legs in at the right angle took some doing. Like a dying swan she sank into the seat dragging the other leg behind her. There was no way of doing it elegantly. Not that it was anything she’d ever aspired to. No doubt Mother could get in and out of a car like this with perfect grace.

‘Nicely done,’ chuckled Cam. ‘Don’t worry, it just takes practice.’

She shot him a dark look.

‘I’ve been busy acquiring other skills.’

He raised one eyebrow.

She blushed furiously and looked down at her phone.

‘So exactly which Ferrari is this? I’ve forgotten.’

Cam raised a cynical disbelieving eyebrow.

She didn’t care what he thought. She had known once.

‘The GT250 California Spyder, probably Enzo’s finest design.’

At the reverence in his tone, she looked up from the text she was sending Robert. Uncle Miles had been like that about his cars. She pinged off the text to Robert, glad that she was now able to tell him the model of the car that she’d sort of inherited. It made it sound a little less pie in the sky and more real.

‘Seatbelt on?’ asked Cam.

She nodded and was surprised when he leant over to give a tug to double check. Did he not trust her to manage that much?

When he released the clutch, the car shot forward and she could feel the barely contained acceleration which matched the pace of her racing heart. She took in the interior. Basic and dated, it looked very little like the modern interiors of cars she was used to. It was noisy and she could feel the hum of the engine under her feet and the gentle vibrato of its song radiating through the body of the car. The well-worn leather of the seat seemed too smooth beneath her bottom and she kept slipping down and banging her knees on the dash.

There seemed to be more to the outside of the car than the inside, with very little room to stretch. Although the noisy rumble of the engine didn’t preclude conversation, it certainly didn’t encourage it, and she kept silent as they drove down the drive and out onto a country lane. Being so low enhanced the feeling of speed as the hedgerows sped past in a blur of brown and green, but even so, she was surprised by how fast Cam was going. He obviously knew the roads well.

Deciding she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking where they were going, she stared down at her knees, trying to ignore her speeding pulse. After a minute her stomach protested, nausea roiling and she had to give in and look out of the window.

They were going faster now and she was having trouble keeping her balance in the seat as they roared around bends and twisted along the country road. A tractor loomed ahead of them, trundling along at snail speed. Gripping her seat, she tensed and held her breath.

Cam shot her a disdainful look, dropped back a gear and zoomed around it in a move that threw her back into the seat with the force of a rocket blasting off. She let out a startled squeak as the car pulled in front of the tractor but refused to give Cam the satisfaction of voicing her fear. Instead she turned her head and looked out of the passenger window. Anyone would have been unnerved. There was no need for him to look at her as if she was some dumb hick who’d never sat in a Ferrari before. Gritting her teeth she tried to hold back the stirring of temper. No matter how hard she tensed her jaw she could feel it simmering in her veins.

The car’s engine slowed and she heard the thrum as Cam changed down through the gears. She’d been so busy concentrating on keeping her emotion in check, she’d not noticed where they were. Now she looked up, she recognised it immediately.

The car faced a long straight track of tarmac, stretching out into the distance.

‘Your turn.’ Cam turned his head and gave her a smile which didn’t get anywhere near his eyes. It reminded her of a shark measuring up its prey.

‘Don’t worry, this is a private track. The perfect place for you to learn how to drive this beauty. It’s extremely difficult and you will find it very different to driving anything else. It needs a very light touch in some ways but firm handling in others.’ He gave her a stern look. ‘You need to be confident. Best to start here where there’s nothing to hit.’ His perfunctory smile and patronising driving instructor tone pricked her. ‘We can start slow here, have a couple of lessons and get you used to it. It’s not the sort of car for a novice I’m afraid … but let’s see how you get on.’

With a smooth grace that belied those long jean-clad legs he uncoiled himself from the driver’s seat, leaving the engine idling. Laurie scowled. He bloody would. Scrambling out of her own seat and slamming the door, she went round the back of the car to where he stood holding the driver’s door for her. He took her elbow to guide her in, calloused palms grazed her skin as his larger hand cradled her arm making her conscious of how tall and broad he was. The gesture, old fashioned and courteous, gave her a sudden pang. For all his brusqueness, he was a gentleman. Not something she was used to at all.

Mutinously she glared at him, even more cross that he’d managed to make her feel like a gauche teenager.

As soon as she sat down, she arranged her seat to suit her, checked the mirror on the dashboard and ignoring him, looked down the track.

One mile. A smooth circuit. Privately owned, once an airfield but abandoned long ago in favour of a newer, shinier one closer to the town.

Rubber burns scarred the surface, veering off left and right, the harsh punctuation marks of cars put through their paces. Her nose twitched as if she could still smell burning rubber and the memory of the pistol shot of a blown tyre hit her along with a punch of adrenaline. The wash of unexpected and lost memories surfacing so suddenly left her dazed.

Stuff Cameron bloody patronising Matthews. She pulled the car door closed and before he could get to the passenger side, she depressed the tiny clutch, and pushed the gear stick into first, forgetting how different the gearbox felt to modern cars. It distracted her for a moment and then her muscle memory rescued her and anticipating the kick, she flicked her foot off the clutch and pressed the accelerator.

The car leapt forward and the acceleration fired up through her. In the mirror she caught sight of Cam’s surprised face. She allowed a brief smile to cross her face and focused on driving. She knew that all her attention would be needed, like hanging onto a bucking bronco. The steering wheel seemed huge, its span larger than anything she’d driven … for a while. Now she was in the driving seat she knew exactly where the speedometer was.

It was just like riding a bike, well nearly. The speedo in front of her, the revs. Oil, water and fuel gauges lined along to right on the minimalist dashboard. She knew what she was doing. OK, not quite. It had been a long time, but the memory of things she didn’t know she’d forgotten rose up like flotsam on the surface. It all came back to her. Her skills were definitely ropey. Hanging onto the steering wheel, she focused, trying to remember all the things that Miles had told her, sitting exactly where Cam had been sitting.

‘Steer into the corners. Keep your speed up. Don’t brake.’ She could hear his voice, the commands clear and bright in her head.

Riding the adrenaline driving through her system, she hit the clutch, rammed the car into second, and braced herself for the leap forward as the car speeded up and then in no time the transition into third. It wasn’t smooth, it was spiky, inelegant and not worthy of the car but the heady response of the accelerator beguiled her. Reckless, she accelerated, unable to resist the siren call of speed, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Under her foot, she could feel the power trembling ready to answer her call; she depressed the pedal watching the speedometer needle leap forward. Outside the track shimmered and blurred as she concentrated on steering a straight course. Even this felt familiar; although she hadn’t been on the track for ten years, she knew it like the lines on her hand. With a wry smile she gave into the devil rising in her blood. Served Cam right for being so patronising. Feeling the car buck as she hit seventy, she pushed on still to reach eighty.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ said Cam as she pulled away without him. Shaking his head, he folded his arms and waited for her to bunny hop to a halt the first time she tried to change gear. If you weren’t used to driving vintage cars they were very different to modern ones. She’d find the clutch very tricky. He steeled himself to hear the whine of the engine when she messed it up but surprisingly she wasn’t doing too badly. The car picked up speed. She’d probably got up into third. Not bad. Better than he would have expected and she was holding it steady, going all of thirty. She had no idea what the car was capable of but that was OK, he’d soon show her. In hindsight he should have done a couple of circuits before handing over to her. Now she’d tootle round the track in third and come back all pleased with herself. Damn he’d missed an opportunity to show her the car needed healthy respect.

Then his ears pricked up as the engine note changed and he heard the growl as the revs increased. Bloody hell.

‘Slow down. Slow down.’ He took a sharp breath. Shit, she was speeding up. Christ, right at the wrong time. Half way down the straight. And still accelerating. She couldn’t take the bend at that speed. He started forward unable to take his eyes off the car, a macabre compulsion, knowing that any moment she’d hit the bend, lose control of the car and come flying off and then plough straight into the wall there. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Breathing heavily he willed her to slow down. For God’s sake, please.

Miles would never forgive him if he killed his niece on her first outing.

But even as he prayed, he heard the whine of the engine. Sweet Jesus. Thank you. The car flew into the bend but held the road. She must have dropped down to third. Sheer luck rather than judgement. Thank God. She’d probably scared the shit out of herself. Wait til he got hold of her; he’d bloody kill her. What the hell did she think she was playing at? Did she have any idea how bloody rare this car was?

What the … he stared as she began to speed up again out of the bend. This time the acceleration was even faster and she came roaring down the straight. With mounting fury, he watched as she came up to the new bend and this time took it even faster than the last. Stepping out onto the track, he waved to her to stop. When she was three hundred metres away, he realised she had no intention of stopping and he shot back. The car zipped past leaving him doused in a trail of exhaust fumes.

He stared down the track after her, his mouth firming into a line. Where the hell had she learned to drive like that?

Here of course. Miles had owned this track for years. He shook his head at his own stupidity. She’d probably learned to drive on this track. While some more practice was certainly needed, he could see that she’d been well taught. Duh! Of course she’d been taught well, she was Miles’ niece but why the hell hadn’t the old bugger said anything?

With a mirthless laugh, he shoved his hands in his pocket. She might have said something, although he’d been so wrapped up in his own preconceptions, he’d not exactly given her a chance. You had to give it to her, she had balls. Not that he wouldn’t be reading the riot act. Taking risks like that in a strange car. An inexperienced driver. Anything could have happened. She didn’t know the car. It was stupid. Crazy. Dangerous. Gave a massive adrenaline rush like no other …and he should know. He also knew how easy it was to miscalculate and how frail the human body was in a high speed crash. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This time as the little car came back into view, he stepped out into the track making it clear he expected her to stop.

Chapter 6

As she brought the car to a stop, she could see Cam was in a towering fury. Suddenly her bravado evaporated, the adrenaline surging through her veins catapulted to an abrupt stop and she gulped. He yanked open the car door and hauled her out to face him, his eyes blazing. Standing on shaky legs, all she could manage was to stare up at him, completely mute. Her heart still pounded and the last vestiges of euphoria sizzled in her nerve endings. That had been something else.

‘What the fuck do you think you were playing at?’ He ground the words out as if through gritted teeth.

Reality crashed in and the enormity of what she’d just done hit her. ‘I knew what I was doing,’ she muttered. Oh God, she sounded just like a sulky teenager.

Cam annoyingly quirked one eyebrow as if to say, ‘Who are you kidding?’ He shook his head.

When that first bend came up a lot quicker than she remembered, she thought her heart might just burst out of her chest. Fighting to get the car into third had taken all her wits and strength but she wasn’t going to admit it to Cam. The look on his face the first time she’d passed him had been worth it. Sheer surprise. Served him right. Just because she didn’t mix with the jet set, didn’t mean she was some numpty dullard beneath his notice. The second lap of the track had been pure heaven though and she couldn’t regret it.

She’d braced herself for him to shout but he seemed to have got himself under control.

‘Well, you might think you know what you’re doing,’ his stern expression made it clear, he didn’t think so, ‘but you can’t drive like that on public roads. There are a lot of other things to think about instead of showing off. And don’t forget it’s a left hand drive.’

Damn. He was right. She was going to have to back-track like mad. It was perfectly legal to drive with a provisional licence on a private road but not on a public road. She’d let herself get carried away. The magic of the car. See, that’s what happened when you let yourself be ruled by emotion. She didn’t want to risk driving. She’d been planning to play the girly-I-can’t-drive-a-car-like-that card.

‘Sorry, you’re right. It was irresponsible.’ She tried to strike a humble note even though she wanted to stick out her tongue at him. ‘I hadn’t thought. It would be very different with other cars around.’

‘Yes, if you hit something else that would be very bad news.’ Cam looked very serious. ‘Cars like this aren’t built like modern cars; even a minor bump can cause a huge amount of damage. And if you’re not used to left hand drive, it’s difficult to orientate yourself.’

Her face fell. She hadn’t thought of that either. Of course the car would probably crumple like a tin can. No, no driving for her. It wasn’t like you could get spare parts for a car like this. All the better reason for him to drive.

‘Cam …?’

‘Yes?’

‘Perhaps it would be better if you did most of the driving and I just did little bits on the quiet bits. I mean it doesn’t say anything, as far as I can see … I’ll check with Ron … but there’s nothing to say I have to drive, is there?’

An odd expression crossed Cam’s face. Almost like relief − or was that triumph?

‘Sounds good to me. These high performance cars do take quite a bit of getting used to, and trying to drive on the other side of the road and coping with French drivers, not to mention the Italians, will make it even harder. I think that’s a good call.’ He sounded impossibly pompous and she gave him a curious look. It was not at all like the devil-may-care attitude she’d glimpsed before.

He was right though. Disappointment flared, once she’d got used to the feel of the clutch and the accelerator, the responsiveness of the car had dazzled her, that burst of speed, the handling. But it was for the best, she couldn’t possibly take her test before they had to leave and there was no way she’d admit to Mr Super-sophisticated that she didn’t have a full driving-licence. She gave the low slung bonnet a longing look. Shame, driving it had been something else.

Robert appeared in the hallway as soon as she opened the front door.

‘How was it? How did you get on?’

Laurie grinned, pleased to see his enthusiasm. She’d half expected him to be a bit sulky. ‘It was great. I surprised myself. It’s a difficult car to drive …’

‘You drove it! I thought he was driving—’

‘Don’t worry,’ she put a hand out to placate him, ‘it was on private land. Uncle Miles owns a disused track. I drove it there.’

‘Well I don’t see why you bothered. It’s not as if you can drive it anyway.’

‘That’s the thing; I’d forgotten I …’ There probably wasn’t any point explaining to Robert that her uncle had taught her to drive at the age of thirteen and that until she was fifteen she’d been a regular at the track. She knew he would be horrified.

‘Anyway Cam’s agreed to do the driving.’

‘What all the way to Italy?’ Robert looked sceptical

She nodded.

His mouth turned down. ‘That’s great then, isn’t it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well he’s hardly doing it out of the goodness of his heart is he? So your uncle must have paid him. How much I wonder?’ Then he brightened. ‘I suppose it will be worth it when you get to Italy.’

‘Yes.’ She stepped past him into the kitchen. No sign of food on the go yet.

‘That’s brilliant.’ Robert scooped her up in his arms and swung her around. ‘You’re amazing, you know that.’ He kissed her soundly and then deepened the kiss, his tongue diving into her mouth.

His sudden enthusiasm and the unexpected amorous lunge of his hand down her shirt and into her bra confused her. To put it bluntly he’d always been a lights off, in bed only type of guy and much as she might have occasionally wished for a bit more spontaneity, this didn’t feel right.

With his other arm he pulled her against him.

‘Oh Laurie, I love you so much,’ he moaned, nuzzling her neck. ‘I’m going to miss you so much.’

‘Robert,’ she tried to push him away but he was kissing her mouth again and pushing his groin against her with such insistence that she suddenly found herself with her back against the draining board.

‘I love you …’ he kissed her full on the lips again, eyes focused and bright. ‘Let’s get married. I know the registry office idea threw you … but with you going away … let’s just do it. Life’s too short. I hate the idea of you being so far away from me. I need to know you’ll come back to me. Mrs Evans.’ He held her face in his hand, his fingers biting just a bit too hard into her jaw.

The intensity of his gaze, full beam, stirred anxiety rather than joy. This should have been romantic, incredibly romantic … it wasn’t.

‘What’s wrong, Robert?’

‘Nothing. It’s just you not wanting to get married knocked me. I couldn’t bear to lose you.’

‘Don’t be silly.’ She smiled to take the sting out of the words but he was being completely ridiculous. In their time together he’d never had a particularly romantic bent. They just weren’t that sort of couple. Why now? And why was he spouting about ‘losing’ her? It was ridiculously melodramatic.

‘If you really want all the bells and whistles, we can do that when you get back. Renewal of vows. The important bit is us, you and me, promising to each other. A declaration, private, just the two of us.’ Robert’s earnest gaze bored into her. She felt saliva collecting in her mouth, her jaw tense, aching.

She closed her eyes trying to distance herself from him. The last thing, she wanted to do was hurt his feelings. What a contrary bitch she was. After such an impassioned, desperate declaration. And that was the clincher. Desperate.

The word rang in her head. Desperate. Why was he suddenly so desperate? In eighteen months, he’d never shown any interest in getting married. She’d broached the subject six months ago, and despite the possible tax breaks, he’d been quite sure there wasn’t much point.

‘Honestly Robert, don’t be so daft.’ She pushed past him and opened the fridge. ‘Fancy an omelette for tea?’ Not waiting for his answer, she carried on, ‘Besides, it’s only a couple of weeks.’ She shook her head refusing to give into irritation. He’d got some bee in his bonnet but she wasn’t going to let it cause an argument.

She didn’t do arguments or confrontation.

‘Laurie, darling … don’t you want to marry me?’

He was pouting, looking ludicrous and she had no idea what to do.

The easiest thing would have been to say, don’t be silly … of course I do, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words instead she said, ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Well why won’t you then?’

‘Why won’t I what?’ She stalled, taking a pack of eggs from the fridge.

‘Marry me.’ Robert looked entreatingly at her and guilt curdled in the bottom of her stomach. Why the hell didn’t she just say yes? For an easy life? But she couldn’t bring herself to.

‘But Robert, six months ago, you didn’t want to.’

‘I never said that.’ His mouth snapped shut in a mutinous line.

‘Yes you did. We talked about it.’

‘No we didn’t.’

‘We did. You said the only point was possible tax breaks.’

‘So you don’t want to marry me.’

‘I didn’t say that.’ Tamping down her exasperation, she cracked the eggs smartly on the edge of a Pyrex bowl, pushing the empty shells to one side.

‘Well you don’t exactly seem to be champing at the bit.’ With a sudden movement, he smashed his fist into one of the half shells crushing it.

Realising she needed to tread carefully, she decided to change tack. ‘It’s not that … it’s just the timing.’

‘What’s wrong with the timing? I’d have thought with another death in the family, you’d want the security of another income. If I wasn’t around you’d be completely on your own.’

Laurie closed her eyes, a feeling of unbearable sadness descending from nowhere. Everything he said had a horrible logic about it. Was that all it was about? Not being on her own? They made a good solid couple. Sensible.

And today she’d tasted something else. Not sensible. For a moment she’d glimpsed a different world, experienced a surge of exhilaration and felt a moment of soaring freedom.

Chapter 7

She didn’t need the ring of the doorbell to tell her that Cam had arrived. The low grumble outside announced that it was time to leave.