Drive

by Mark West

  "And what do you have now?"

  She looked at him and in the wan light he could see that she was smiling broadly. "Oh, another Clio."

  He laughed. "So where would you like me to take you?"

  "Brooks Villas, please. It's on the other side of the city centre."

  "Brooks Villas?"

  "It sounds more glamorous than it really is, trust me."

  * * *

  There were still a few pedestrians in the city centre but hardly any traffic, other than taxis and so they didn't have many hold-ups.

  Apart from occasionally pointing out the dress sense of people they saw, they'd fallen into a comfortable silence, which David partly regretted - Nat was good company and she reminded him pleasantly of Louisa, who he was sorely missing.

  Nat directed him into Dryden Street and he drove to the end of it, stopping at the traffic lights. A group of women were at the kerb and a couple of them looked towards the car and waved, as if they couldn't seem to decide if he was waiting for them or about to go.

  He ushered them across and one of the women, wearing a denim skirt and jacket, her hair teased up into an approximation of a beehive, waved at him, smiling broadly.

  "Blimey," said Nat, "that's loud music."

  David looked in his rear view mirror and saw a red Audi coming towards them in the next lane. "He's moving," he said. "Do you think he doesn't know the road?"

  Nat twisted around in her seat. "It's a one-way street, so he might be going right, but he's tanking it."

  David looked at the crossing. The women were about halfway across, apparently oblivious to both the flashing green man and the car heading towards them.

  David checked the rear-view mirror. The Audi wasn't slowing down. He looked at Nat, then at the women and honked his horn twice.

  Some of the women looked over, their annoyed expressions fading away as they saw the Audi. The green man disappeared completely as the women at the back of the group pushed their friends forward. The last woman on the road dived for the safety of the pavement as the Audi slid by, brakes screeching and tyres smoking, before turning right and disappearing from sight.

  "Shit," said David.

  "Should we check they're alright?" asked Nat.

  Most of the women were now on their feet. A couple were crying but none of them seemed injured, apart from ripped tights and a couple of bloody knees.

  The woman with the beehive caught David's eye and waved. He wound down his window. "Are you all okay?"

  "Yes," called the woman, "Diane's going to ring the police though."

  "Do you want me to stay?"

  "Nah, but thanks anyway. I work for the council, this road has got at least two CCTV cameras on it, there'll be pictures."

  "Okay, if you're sure."

  "Thank you."

  "No problem," said David and he put the car into gear. He turned left and they both looked back but the Audi was nowhere to be seen.

  "Jesus," said Nat, "that was fucking close."

  David nodded, but didn't say anything. What would he have done, had the Audi hit any of the women? How did the driver not see them? Was that what the heavy braking was all about or did he see them and try to hit them, then realise the corner was almost on him and had to slam on the anchors? Neither seemed to like a particularly pleasant option and he hoped he didn't see the car again.

  Nat directed him through the increasingly empty city streets and he tried to keep certain landmarks in his mind. He knew the hotel was back towards the train station, which would be signposted quite clearly, but he didn't want to spend hours driving around trying to escape a one-way system that seemed to follow little, if any, logic.

  As they drove along Market Street, they passed a taxi rank on the night. There were a couple of people leaning against the shelter, smoking and they watched him go by like hungry wolves.

  "Not far now," said Nat. "After these lights, I'm about two hundred yards down the road." She looked at the dashboard clock. "God, it's late, isn't it? I feel guilty for getting you to drop me off now, you're going to be like a zombie tomorrow, aren't you?"

  "Don't worry about it. I can pretend I'm working in the morning and bluff my way through if they decide to ask us questions before we finish at lunchtime."

  "Are you heading straight home?"

  "Absolutely, that way I can hopefully skip all the traffic at Oxford and Swindon and get back before rush hour starts."

  "You have it all planned out then?"

  "To the second."

  There was a junction ahead, across from a square where an ornamental fountain was surrounded by scaffold and sheeting. The road branched into two, the main artery heading straight off, a narrower road leading down to the right.

  "You want to go straight over here," said Nat.

  "The final lights, eh?"

  "Yep."

  The light turned red and David stopped. There weren't any other cars in sight, but he had the kind of luck that if he'd kept going, a police car would have been making its rounds and caught him.

  "This always feels odd," said Nat, "sitting at lights when there's no-one around, you know, a bit silly."

  David was about to reply when a car turned into Market Street, its headlights on full beam, the glare in his rear-view mirror blinding him temporarily. He flicked the mirror up then rubbed his eyes. Nat looked at him and turned slightly in the chair.

  The car pulled up behind them, so close that the glare of the lights almost disappeared.

  "Can you hear that?" asked Nat, slowly.

  David watched the headlights, as the car began to pull over towards the centre of the road, the lane that would take it down towards the right, past the fountain. As the second headlight passed out of sight, he heard the music, the driving, bass-heavy hardcore beat.

  "Oh no," he said.

  The Audi pulled up alongside and David glanced over. The driver was looking straight ahead, his hood pulled up so all that could be seen was the tip of his nose and his pursed lips. There was a person in the back, also wearing his hood, slumped low and almost out of sight.

  "Oi!" the passenger called. He was wearing his hood too, but David could see his close-cropped hair and bad skin quite clearly. "Oi, wind the window down."

  "Don't," said Nat quickly.

  David looked at her and raised his eyebrows. "I hadn't planned to."

  Something hit the glass and David turned quickly, to see the passenger grinning at him and gesturing for him to wind down the window. David shook his head and the passenger reached down then held up a beer can.

  "Open it," he called.

  David wound down the window and the music thumped against his temples instantly, making his head ache. "What do you want?"

  "Is that your bitch?"

  "Say yes," hissed Nat.

  Out of sight of the Audi, he held his hand up. "What?"

  "Is she your bitch?"

  "She's my wife, why?"

  "'Cos I want her," said the passenger and the driver laughed.

  "Well, sorry about that," said David and started to wind the window back up. Please change, he implored the lights, come on.

  "Lend her to us, we're decent blokes."

  The driver laughed harder at that and the passenger waited for him to finish. "Look, we're all mates, you know? I'm Clarkey, this is Mal and the homie in the back is Jay. So what's your bitch's name?"

  "Drive," said Nat, her voice low but urgent, "jump the light."

  "Clarkey, we don't want any hassle, so just leave us alone."

  This seemed to anger Clarkey and he leaned out of the window. "No hassle, yeah?" As he spoke, flecks of spittle were caught in the light from the street lamp. "I just want to know the bitch's name, you fucking twat."

  The amber light lit up and David put the car into gear. "You'll never know," he said and wound the window up.

  Clarkey looked at the lights. "Come on, bitch, let me suck those titties," he said and spat at David's window. Nat let out a little cry as it
hit the glass.

  David put his foot down, the front wheels bucking slightly as the fought for grip. The Audi kept pace and Clarkey gave him the finger, before sliding down in his seat. David gripped the steering wheel, concentrating on the road. Twenty yards in front of them was a zebra crossing, linked to the other side of the road by a small island. If the Audi wanted a race, it would have to squeeze around it, which would slow it down - but once they were on the straight, the Vectra wouldn't stand a chance.

  But the Audi went to the right, the tyres squealing, the repetitive, driving beat disappearing with it.

  When they passed the island, David let out a big breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "Fucking hell." His body suddenly seemed to react and his arms and legs tingled.

  "I thought we were in trouble there," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, "I really did."

  "Me too," said Nat, rubbing her face. "Christ, that's never happened to me before."

  "Or me. But then, I've never been out with anyone as popular as you before."

  It was a stupid little comment but it broke the tension and made Nat laugh. Hearing her, David laughed too. It could have been serious - those blokes might have been on something, or had weapons - but in the end, it was just a spotty knobhead mouthing off.

  "Did you hear him call the bloke in the back his homie?" asked Nat, the thought of it making her laugh more.

  "I loved the whole gangster thing, the hoods and the language."

  "Yeah, but they didn't get out, did they and then peeled off as soon as the light changed, like their arses were on fire. Maybe they aren't used to people saying no to them, didn't know what to do."

  "Yeah and we aren't anonymous women trying to cross the road."

  Nat's smile faded. "It was the same car, wasn't it?"

  "I think so. Nice looking Audi with dreadful taste in music."

  "They could be looking for trouble then."

  "Perhaps, but I doubt they'll find much now." His concern lingered, but his initial worry and fear were starting to fade. The men hadn't actually done that much - they were just like schoolyard bullies, cresting on a reputation of being loud and lairy but rarely getting stuck into any trouble. "They're cruising Gaffney and it's almost half one. If they didn't abuse us, who else is there? The roads are empty. What they did to those women was terrible, but she said they were calling the police and how hard is that Audi going to be to find?"

  "Should we ring the police?"

  "Why? They've gone and you're almost home."

  "Yes but you have to get back. You will be careful, won't you?" She touched his arm lightly.

  "Of course I will." However much he thought they weren't a problem, he wasn't foolish enough to completely dismiss them as harmless. But he was quite sure he knew the way back to the hotel, he could keep the doors locked and keep moving and, if need be, he could inform the police.

  "Good," she said, more to herself, "that's good."

  It was clear the experience had shaken her and David wanted to re-assure her, to tell her everything was going to be alright. It was the same at home - if they saw anything, heard anything, it was always Louisa who took it to heart, who worried and fretted and made herself feel ill, leaving David to try and re-assure her. Even if he was worried too, he had to try and hide it and that was what he needed to do here.

  "It's okay, Nat. They've got a flash car, they're cruising and there's nobody to play with, so they have to make their own fun. We'll never see them again."

  "I might, I live here you know."

  He tried another tack. "Can you remember what they looked like?"

  "I remember the passenger, Clarkey or whatever he said his name was."

  "What about the driver, or Jay in the back?"

  She pursed her lips and looked at the ceiling. "No."

  "Precisely. If they remember anything of us - which they won't - it'll be me, because you were away from them. And after tomorrow lunchtime, I'm not going to be here any more."

  "No," she said, nodding as if to convince herself of his argument, "you're right. Of course you are."

  "Yep, nothing to worry about."

  "And I shouldn't let it spoil this evening, should I?"

  "No, because it's been a good evening, all in all. We both went to a party that turned out not to be what we thought it was going to be and ended up talking to someone we'd have never met otherwise."

  She laughed. "I'm not sure that sounds as good as I remember it. But it has been good meeting you, really it has."

  "And you."

  "Unfortunately though," she said and pointed towards a house, "this is where I live."

  "Can I park here?"

  "Yes, just pull up at the kerb."

  David checked the mirror, though the only cars around were parked at the kerb, their windscreens lightly dusted with frost and pulled up in front of a wide, though not very deep, driveway. Three cars were parked face-in against the large, three-storey red brick townhouse. A walkway led from the car-park around to the side of the house where a large porch was lit by two bright lanterns.

  "Very nice," David said.

  "I wish, you see that bay window, top floor, on the left?" David bent down so that he could see through the windscreen to where Nat was pointing. "That's my lounge. I kind of have the west wing of the top floor."

  "Penthouse apartment, eh? Can't be bad." He turned off the engine as she unclipped her seatbelt. "Did you want me to walk you up?"

  "No, I'll be alright, there's no-one around. Anyway, you've got to get up in about six hours."

  "Don't remind me." She smiled and he was struck again by how pretty she was. "You take care of yourself, Nat, have a good life."

  "Thanks, David, you too. And I really appreciate you driving me back."

  "It's not a problem, honestly, at least it got us both out of the party."

  "And…" she said and looked at her hands. "No," she said and opened the door.

  "What?"

  "I just wanted to say that it's nice things didn't get weird or anything."

  He smiled at her, held up his left hand and wiggled his ring finger. "Already spoken for."

  She smiled ruefully. "That isn't always the barrier you think it would be. Getting divorced seems to have lumped me into a weird social group. If I go out on a date, they seem to see me wearing a sign that reeks of desperation, that if they give me a bit of a line about spending time together, you know, I might give them a little something in return."

  "That's awful."

  "Yeah, but you're not like that and that's nice. Louisa is a very lucky lady."

  "I'll be sure to tell her."

  "Really?" she asked and they both laughed.

  "Perhaps not," he said.

  Nat opened the door, then leaned over and kissed David gently on his cheek. "Thanks for the lift."

  "No problem."

  She got out of the car, shut the door and bent at the waist to peer in through the window and wave at him. He waved back and waited until she was on the walkway before pulling away

  As he drove, he suddenly realised he didn't actually know where he was. Up ahead was another junction and he decided to head for it, check the signs and if he couldn't see anything for the train station, to turn around and head back into town.

  He flicked on the radio to station six, which they always used as the spare, tuning to whatever the local station was.

  When he looked back at the road, he saw a car with bright headlights turn towards him from the junction.

  "Surely not," he muttered and turned the radio down, straining to hear the music. The car got closer and David opened the window slightly. The gap between them narrowed and he found he was moving his head towards the window. Waiting. When there was less than twenty feet between them, he heard a bass beat and slid down slightly in his chair until the Audi drove by. He risked a quick look but it appeared as if they hadn't made the connection and he watched the car in the wing mirror. He half expected, at any moment, to see
the brake lights flash on and for it to turn and come after him but it didn't, it continued towards the city centre.

  The lights were on green and he cruised through them, waiting for his heart-beat to return to normal. His arms and legs felt tingly again and he realised that his bravado about them being harmless only really happened when they weren't anywhere near him.

  A sign for the train station pointed towards the left and he followed the road.

  At least Nat would be inside by now. He didn't like the thought that they might see her, on her own.

  He took a deep breath and turned up the radio and sang along with Warren Zevon about the werewolves of London.

  Three

  As Nat stepped onto the path, out of sight of the road, she heard David pull away.

  It was a shame they wouldn't see each other again, he'd seemed like such a nice bloke - she didn't want to make a situation out of it, but got the feeling they could have become pretty good friends. Perhaps Karen might have some details on him - she'd have to remember to ask, next time they spoke. Which, if Karen had struck lucky at the party, would be later today.

  The security light came on, flooding the path and grass with white light. Nat reached into her bag for her keys and found nothing. She reached in further, but touched the fabric at the base of the bag. Where could they be? She squatted down and put the bag between her legs, so that the light shone into it. She pulled open the pocket as far as it would go but the keys weren't in there. She could see something odd, though, an almost grey smudge. Frowning, she reached for it and her fingertips brushed the paving slab under the bag.

  "Oh bollocks." She'd noticed the pocket seam was starting to tear earlier that week, but hadn't thought too much about it, apart from a vague sense that she ought to put her keys somewhere else and now she was paying the price. At some point during the evening, her keys had gotten too heavy for the seam and simply fallen through.

  They could be anywhere.

  Except that she seemed to remember hearing them rattle when she got her bag and coat from the bedroom at the party. It was a big bag - not her choice, her Mum bought it for her from Brighton - but she'd always put the keys in the same pocket and their jangle was always clear. So it had to be sometime after that, which meant the walk from the house to David's car, or in his car.