Chapter Thirty-five
‘What are you staring at?’ Lara felt like a kinky Tellytubby in the leathers, which were actually Kevlar textiles. The helmet was surprisingly heavy too and she hadn’t even put it on.
‘Nothing. You just look …’ he said, obviously too wary to finish the sentence.
‘Like the Michelin man?’
He was obviously struggling not to laugh. ‘No. You look like a biker.’
She curled her lip. ‘Funny that, when I’m dressed like a biker … you have taken a passenger before?’
His confidence seemed to waver. ‘I’ll let you in on a secret. You’re the first one.’
Lara squeaked in horror. ‘You are joking!’
‘Yeah, of course I am. I’m not crazy. I’ve taken hundreds of passengers. I promise, I know what I’m doing.’
‘Hmm.’ Lara had no doubt he was as experienced as he said, yet it was difficult to overcome her nervousness. Then again, if she was going to get on the back of a powerful machine for the first time, she couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather do it with than Flynn.
That image, with all its erotic associations, made her burst out laughing,
‘What’s so funny?’ he asked.
‘Nothing. Nervous laughter.’
‘No need to be nervous,’ he insisted. ‘All you need to do is trust the rider. It’s 100 per cent my job to ride the bike. You don’t need to do anything. You don’t have to lean or move. You just brace against the top case, hold the sissy bars …’
Lara was sure she’d misheard him. Nobody used a word like that these days. ‘The what bars?’
‘The sissy bars,’ he said sternly. ‘The grab bars if we’re being technical. I’m sorry but that’s what everyone calls them – they originated in the sixties in America, but we won’t go into that now.’
‘I don’t think you should,’ she said tartly.
Flynn went on. ‘All you need to know is that you hold on to them, and don’t make any erratic movements. But I know you’re cool in a crisis, so that will be fine. Got that?’
‘Oh yeah. Easy. There won’t be a crisis, will there?’ she added, feeling the need to clear her dry throat.
‘No. I’ll show you how to get on and off, and what to do when I need to slow down or speed up at traffic lights or park up.’ He smirked. ‘If you do what I say, I promise everything will be OK.’
‘This is all very autocratic,’ Lara muttered, using sarcasm to hide her nerves.
‘Yeah, I guess it is, but I’m responsible for everything that happens to us both. Don’t look so worried. I promise that, when you get used to it, you’re going to wonder why you’ve never done it before.’
Don’t move, don’t bounce, don’t – as if! – take her feet off the pegs and above all, hold on – like she was planning to start waving her arms around and screaming as if she was at a nightclub, Lara thought, as he issued a stream of further instructions.
Even getting on the bike had a special technique. Lara leaned back against the top box and found the sissy bars.
‘When we slow down, I’m afraid you will have to hold on to me or brace on the fuel tank. I’ll show you your options.’
‘I have options?’ she asked, with an eyebrow raise. ‘I thought this was a not-so-benign dictatorship.’
He rolled his eyes.
‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’
He grinned then turned serious again. ‘I only want you to be safe. Now, shall I show you how to get on and off and we can take some drills round the car park so you know what to expect? If you really hate it, we don’t have to go.’
She probably would really hate it, thought Lara, but, no matter how much, there was no way she’d embarrass herself by chickening out now.
‘Let’s put our helmets on.’
A minute of fiddling later and Lara felt she’d entered a new realm. No one from the castle or among her friends would have ever imagined serious, geeky Lara as a biker chick. Lara herself would never have dreamed of it either.
‘So, are you ready to live dangerously?’
Lara’s stomach turned over. ‘I wish you hadn’t said that!’
‘I was joking. We’re as safe as houses.’ He flipped her visor down and held the bike steady while she climbed on the back of it.
It was only as the Harley’s engine roared into life and the vibrations swept her body that she remembered the chalice and its chip. If by some twist of fate their luck was going to run out, she just prayed it wasn’t during the next few hours.
By the time Flynn pulled into a layby next to the shore of Bassenthwaite Lake, she had no idea how much of her life had flashed by.
Lara also wasn’t sure she’d ever hear anything again. The power of the Harley was astounding and riding behind Flynn was nothing whatsoever like anything she’d ever done. It was like getting on the back of a wild horse compared to her old faithful Land Rover.
‘You can let go now,’ he called, kicking the stand down.
‘Oh.’ She realised that her arms were wound tightly around his waist. They had been since the first set of traffic lights when she’d transferred them to him and forgotten to let go.
‘And it’s safe to get off.’ Flynn twisted round, his visor now open and his eyes gleaming.
There was so much tension in her body, she wasn’t sure she could lift her leg. It felt like a wrench to take her hands from his waist, and how had the scent of leather and petrol never turned her on before?
Her legs felt wobbly but she made it safely onto the tarmac. She flipped up the visor.
Flynn had taken off his helmet and pushed his hair back off his face. ‘You’re alive,’ he said, rather gleefully, Lara thought.
‘B-barely,’ Lara said, taking off her own helmet.
‘How was it?’
‘You s-said you w-wouldn’t go very fast.’
‘I didn’t. I stuck to the speed limit or lower all the way.’
‘It felt like we were doing a hundred miles an hour.’
‘Not today.’ His dark eyes glinted wickedly. ‘Great, isn’t it?’
She tried not to think of all the biker clichés about throbbing power and being exposed to the elements, but the rush on the corners and the straights had been mind-blowing. The mountains and lakes had flashed by her in a blur of brown and white and indigo.
‘Are you OK to go on?’
Lara wasn’t sure she could speak again so she nodded. ‘Of course. Bring it on.’
The latter part of the route was more sedate as they rode into Keswick, found a parking spot for the bike, and headed into the little town, where the square was buzzing with stalls set up for the Christmas market.
With the big day imminent, the stalls were doing a roaring trade as everyone scrambled for gifts and festive food.
Lara took off the helmet and was glad she’d tied her hair back to keep it from turning into a bird’s nest. Even so, she could barely believe that the biker girl reflected in the shop windows was her. She wished her parents could see her. She rather hoped they’d be horrified.
‘What’s funny?’ Flynn asked, outside the Peter Rabbit shop.
‘Nothing. Nothing at all. Shall we go inside? I think we’ll find something for Esme in here. I don’t think you can go wrong with Peter Rabbit, and it is very Lake District. Beatrix Potter lived and wrote her books here.’
Flynn wrinkled his nose and heaved a sigh.
‘What’s up? You look nervous.’
‘I need to tell you now that I have never in my life been inside a Peter Rabbit shop.’
Lara laughed. ‘No need to be scared, although you might be when you see the prices. Come on. Let’s do it.’
The reaction to two bikers entering the store was interesting. It wasn’t large and had lots of nooks and crannies, so Flynn filled the space quite quickly. There were glances from some of the more traditional customers and some admiring looks from others.
Half an hour later they emerged, Flynn carrying a large Peter Rabbit bag containing a Jellycat toy that had cost an eyewatering sum, two board books, and a Peter Rabbit-themed sleepsuit, dress and leggings chosen by Lara.
Lara had also indulged, buying gifts for Jazz’s children and an old friend’s new baby.
With Esme catered for, Flynn was now fretting about what to get for Molly. Lara suggested they go into the bakery café for a spicy sausage roll and some stollen.
‘What do young women want for Christmas these days? I don’t want to get anything weird or fogeyish.’
‘Make-up, clothes, hair stuff, tech, books? I bet she’s so busy looking after Esme that she doesn’t have time for herself – and not much money.’
‘Money, I – that’s another thing. I need to think about helping to support them both.’
‘That’s not my area,’ Lara said. ‘I’ll leave that to you.’
‘I know what you’re thinking. I’ve thought it too. How do I know that Molly is really mine?’
‘I – I wasn’t thinking that,’ Lara said, taken aback that Flynn had admitted such a personal concern.
‘She offered to do a DNA test and I agreed. The results came back last week. She is mine.’ His smile broadened into one of pure happiness. ‘I always knew it. The timings are exactly right for her birthday and she looks like me – God help her – you have to admit that.’
‘Yeah. She does.’ Lara had thought it several times.
‘Or is that wishful thinking?’ he asked.
‘No, it’s understandable, and—’ She paused. ‘I’m so happy for you, Flynn.’
‘Thanks. Thanks for being so understanding. I’m sorry that things have turned out to be so complicated for us.’
Lara agreed but she would never ever wish away his joy, even if that joy reminded her again and again of what she might have had.
‘You know, two months ago, if you’d asked me if I wanted to discover a child I didn’t know about, I’d have laughed and been horrified. Why would anyone want that kind of bombshell in their life? Not me. I was free and single – still youngish – free to do what I wanted and—’
‘And now?’
‘Now I don’t know what I’d do without them.
Though I still wake up in the morning, remember they exist, and think it can’t be true.
But now they are here, I would never wish it any different.
I just wish I hadn’t missed the earlier part of their lives.
Oh no, I’ve made today all about them when I wanted it to be a day we could … enjoy as friends, with no pressure.’