Chapter 4
Chapter Four
The Hertfordshire countryside slid past in a haze of thatched cottage roofs, willowy trees and billowing fields in the late afternoon glow.
Evan tried to rearrange his long legs on the passenger side.
I made sure I kept my eyes fixed on the road ahead.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. ‘M1 and then M6,’ I commented.
‘Then I thought we could break up the journey and stay the night in the Lake District. Ambleside.’ I wondered if I sounded like a tour guide, but I didn’t care.
A mixture of disbelief and annoyance were still firing through me over me agreeing to take Evan back to Scotland in the first place. Still, I did feel like I owed him.
I glanced over at the digital clock on my dashboard. ‘If we stop for an hour, I reckon we should hit Ambleside around nine o’clock tonight.’ My voice sounded odd to my own ears. All I wanted to do right now was blast out some Lady Gaga at top volume in an attempt to lift my spirits.
Evan glanced down at his solid silver wristwatch. ‘That late?’
‘Ok, I’ll turn on my turbo thrusters. How’s that?’
Evan raised a brow.
He was making me put up my barriers and get all defensive, which was making me feel even worse. Then more pictures reared up in front of me of that smug sod Fox at the party: the way he’d smirked at me; his mocking gaze.
I followed the signs for the M1 motorway. ‘Pity that Monty and Minnie weren’t more selective about the company they keep.’
‘You’re not still festering over what happened earlier, are you?’
I glided Marlene off the slip road and onto the motorway.
Other traffic whipped past, but it wasn’t quite as busy as I’d expected.
‘Excuse me? Festering? That man savaged the TV series I was in. My first big break. And all the cast, the crew, everyone; they all worked so hard on Sinister and put so much time and energy into it.’
Evan studied me. ‘So that’s what that was all about. You’re an actor?’
‘Struggling.’
‘And that mouthy guy? Who was he?’
I flicked the indicator. ‘Fox. You’ve heard of him, right? The ignoramus who calls himself a TV and film critic?’
Evan’s brows jumped in surprise. ‘Of course I’ve heard of him. Wow. Well, I guess his reply would be he’s only doing his job.’
‘Well, I’d rather be unemployed than do what he does.
Do you have any idea how hard this industry is to break into?
How tough it can be? It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, and in just a few cruel words, that cretin has slighted so many promising careers.
’ I bit back furious tears. ‘I’ve got no more acting work lined up right now, and I’m sure it’s the fallout from Fox’s review. ’
Sunlight was glancing down the planes and angles of Evan’s face. ‘I’m sorry about that, but I’m sure things will turn around for you.’
‘Oh, gazing into your crystal ball, are you?’
The atmosphere in the car was becoming icy and tense.
‘Like I said, some people should rethink their circle of friends.’ I shot him a loaded glance. ‘I’m afraid I have a rather dim view of journalists.’
Evan twisted round in his seat. ‘I didn’t realise being driven by you meant that I’d be subjected to a verbal tongue lashing about my career choices.’ His eyes blazed. ‘I should’ve got a coach back home instead.’
‘Yes, perhaps you should. There’s still time.’
The silence hung there.
I couldn’t help how I was feeling. I was dreading telling Grandpa about my current situation, as he could and often did worry about me being down in London, despite him denying it. And having Evan stationed beside me for hundreds of miles was making my nerves jangle.
‘In that case, drop me off at the next services and I’ll sort myself out from here.’ His peppered jaw jutted out. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll still give you the money I promised.’
The traffic was slowing into a chain of cars.
I shook my head. I was struggling to keep my voice calm. ‘I don’t want anything from you, thank you.’
The cars ahead of us began to creep along again. I was able to pick up a little more speed. I didn’t want Evan in my car anymore. Damn this bloody airport tech outage!
‘I’m not in the habit of breaking promises, Daisy.’
‘And I’m not in the habit of begging for cash. I can manage fine, thanks.’
Evan’s back stiffened. ‘Jesus! Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are?’
I didn’t answer. I just raised my chin and kept driving.
There was another awkward silence for a few moments before Evan let out a pained sigh. ‘Look. You’re right. I think that Fox individual could’ve been a bit more careful with his choice of words.’
‘A bit more careful?’ I repeated, incredulous. More fields flew past the car. ‘There must’ve been poison dripping from his keyboard when he wrote that. In fact, whenever he writes most of his reviews!’
I shook my ponytail and eyed the white Lexus in front of us. ‘Why does he have to be so cruel? I’m all for constructive criticism, but what he said was well out of order.’ More dark thoughts about Fox crept back in. ‘I bet he’s a talentless, sour individual without a creative bone in his body.’
Evan eyed me from the passenger side. ‘That’s often said about critics. They can be a bit harsh, and yes, he was acting like an arse just now.’
‘A bit?’ I clutched the steering wheel more firmly again. Around us, other frustrated drivers and passengers edged forward in their vehicles along the M1. ‘I got the distinct impression from the way he acted towards me that he would be an arse most of the time.’
Evan forced a hand through his floppy, thick hair. ‘Look, I’m getting the vibe you’d rather me not be here and you’d much prefer to do the rest of the journey on your own.’
I didn’t say anything and stared ahead through the windscreen.
Evan spoke again. ‘Not all journalists are like him, I can assure you. To be honest, I wouldn’t describe him as a proper journalist anyway. But if you still want to drop me off…’
Oh bugger. My conscience nibbled at me. It would take him forever to get from here by coach back up to Forrest Bank, and that’s if he could even get a seat on one.
Because of the mess at the airports, the coaches would no doubt be swamped with additional bookings, as well as the trains.
I wasn’t that heartless, even if he was irritating me.
‘I’m not dropping you off by a major motorway. I like to think I’ve got a moral code, unlike some people I can mention.’
I puffed out my cheeks. ‘Just stay put. You might as well, now we’re on our way.’
* * *
It was a relief to get out of the car prior to hitting the M6 to catch some fresh air and indulge in a cup of tea and an Emmental toastie.
Evan bought himself a coffee and a club sandwich.
We sat opposite one another at the motorway services, which seemed to be occupied by frazzled families heading home after a day out in the May sunshine.
Evan persisted in offering me brief, indecipherable glances whenever he looked up from his phone.
If anyone was looking at us, they’d probably assume we were a couple who’d just had an exchange of words.
I drained my tea, stood up and popped the recyclable cup in the nearby bin. ‘I think we should head off again.’
Evan’s lashes jutted up at me. ‘So, you’re not intending on abandoning me here?’
‘Not if you behave yourself.’
‘That sounds boring.’ His eyes locked with mine.
I gripped the strap of my bag tighter. He was doing it again. Somehow, he was managing to make me feel discomfited. I spun away him. ‘Come on then. Let’s hit the road.’
* * *
Coventry, Birmingham, Walsall, Stafford, Stoke-on-Trent, Preston, Lancaster; we pushed on past them all, Marlene like a bright yellow daffodil negotiating the roads.
The evening sky was bleeding into a delicious raspberry ripple shade. I’d checked Google Maps on my phone, and Ambleside was now only about half an hour’s drive away.
My eyes were beginning to feel gritty with tiredness.
I guided Marlene off at Junction 36 and flashed a brief look across at my passenger.
Evan had nodded off.
The kaleidoscope of colours drifting across the sky, lit up his features.
He had such a confident, capable air about him.
Everything about his appearance gave off the air of being broad and strong.
I took a closer look at him as we flowed into another slowing line of traffic, from the cut of his stubbled jaw and the sharp sweep of his nose, which tilted slightly upwards at the end, to his bold, black brows and the way his mouth pursed in an almost petulant way as he slept.
Someone parped their car horn behind us. It gave me a start, and Evan’s lids flickered.
I pushed my attention back to the road. The last thing I wanted was him thinking I was checking him out.
The A591 opened out with dry stone walls racing here and there, lush grass and hedgerows basking in a bronze edged sunset.
Weariness pressed down harder on me. I was longing for a long soak in a bath and then to sink into fresh, crisp bed linen.
Evan had drifted back off to sleep again.
He was all legs, and his dark hair was flopping onto his brow.
His suit was beginning to rumple, but it didn’t detract from his elegance, I concluded with a jab of irritation.
I was still mulling over the prospect of losing myself in a bubbly bathtub at the bed and breakfast which I’d booked for us when we’d stopped for a break, when a blur of movement caught my attention on the right-hand side of the road. We were about to pass a heavily wooded area.
I slowed down and peered out of my driver side window. It appeared to be a little white blob of something moving this way and that in front of some dense trees.
Evan was still dozing beside me, his head slumped backwards, with one lock of hair falling forwards.
I eased off the accelerator and squeezed the brake. There were no other vehicles behind me, so I eased into the kerb for a closer look and hit the hazard lights.
I squinted out of my driver side window again. The evening light was shining into my eyes.
The white blur moved again.