sending me sprawling backwards onto the seat. A moment later, he slid open the partition that divided us and spoke again in the mock cockney accent.
“So, where to, Miss?”
Appreciating the chirpy humour, I leaned forward and gave him the address of Freddie Gillette in Palmers Green.
“Déjà vu,” he said as I sat back and got comfortable again. He smoothly joined the flow of traffic. “Back to the scene of our first meeting.”
I was impressed. “That’s a remarkable memory you have there, my man. You didn’t even need to check your sat nav.”
I could see his wide grin in the driver’s mirror.
I went on, “Is that a skill you guys have to acquire in addition to the Knowledge exam you have to pass in order to get your licence?”
“Sure. GPS is just so passé nowadays. The best drivers have chips implanted in our skulls. Hey, didn’t I already say that’s how I tracked you down?”
“Actually, I am a little surprised you recognised me at all in these clothes.”
I was wearing a red leather biker jacket over a short black top that barely covered my midriff, a pair of tight black jeans that fitted me better now I’d lost weight, and red, high heeled, platform shoes that I could scarcely walk in. I’d bought the outfit when Freddie and I had been invited to a fancy dress party given by some artist friends of his. I’d been Sandy to his Danny from ‘Grease’. I’d never worn the clothes since, as they were hardly my normal style at all. I was generally more a business suit or a skirt and blouse girl. But that was before I’d cut my hair short and dyed it blonde.Before I’d gone edgy and spikey.
And today I’d dressed the way I had in a sort of act of defiance and because I’d decided that since I was actually going to see my ex again, I wanted him to think sex, to see what he was missing, and to remember what he’d thrown away so easily. Piqued? Most definitely. Being dumped had hurt, and I wanted him to regret what he’d done. That’s if he had a remorseful bone in his body.
The taxi driver’s voice brought me back from my brief reverie.
“A pretty woman is a pretty woman, whatever she’s wearing. And you were unforgettable that night. May I say you made a lasting impression on me?”
Once more I felt myself blushing. I reasoned he was simply flattering me, but why should I object even if that were the case? I’d been the girlfriend of a mature man for some years. I was no coy young virgin, no silly young teenager but why would I not be thrilled by the attentions of an attractive man not much older than myself? For attractive he certainly was, there was no getting away from it.
From what I could see of him and from what I could recall from the first time we’d met, not that I’d been in a great place in my mind to really notice much at the time, but the guy was fit. He was tanned and had a thick mop of jet black hair swept back off a high forehead, and great eyes of a deep chocolate colour, sparking with intelligence, and surrounded by fringes of long inky lashes. What was not to like? He was a handsome, buff brute.
Casually he asked, “So, will you be staying long in Palmers Green, or will you want to be returning again to your brother’s home once you’ve finished your business there?”
I’d already decided there was no harm in the guy, and no reason not to be truthful, so I simply shrugged and said, emphasising my words deliberately, “I need to collect some stuff from my ex - boyfriend’s pad.” I paused. “Then, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to go on to Luton Airport.”
He spoke without taking his eyes off the road. “Sure. No problem. Going somewhere nice?”
I stared out of the window, watching people going about their business.
“Jersey.”
“Holiday?” he asked, making conversation.
“My father and step-mother live there,” I answered. “They have a small hotel, in Saint Brelade’s Bay, called ‘Pegasus’.”
“After ‘Pegasus’, the
“So, where to, Miss?”
Appreciating the chirpy humour, I leaned forward and gave him the address of Freddie Gillette in Palmers Green.
“Déjà vu,” he said as I sat back and got comfortable again. He smoothly joined the flow of traffic. “Back to the scene of our first meeting.”
I was impressed. “That’s a remarkable memory you have there, my man. You didn’t even need to check your sat nav.”
I could see his wide grin in the driver’s mirror.
I went on, “Is that a skill you guys have to acquire in addition to the Knowledge exam you have to pass in order to get your licence?”
“Sure. GPS is just so passé nowadays. The best drivers have chips implanted in our skulls. Hey, didn’t I already say that’s how I tracked you down?”
“Actually, I am a little surprised you recognised me at all in these clothes.”
I was wearing a red leather biker jacket over a short black top that barely covered my midriff, a pair of tight black jeans that fitted me better now I’d lost weight, and red, high heeled, platform shoes that I could scarcely walk in. I’d bought the outfit when Freddie and I had been invited to a fancy dress party given by some artist friends of his. I’d been Sandy to his Danny from ‘Grease’. I’d never worn the clothes since, as they were hardly my normal style at all. I was generally more a business suit or a skirt and blouse girl. But that was before I’d cut my hair short and dyed it blonde.Before I’d gone edgy and spikey.
And today I’d dressed the way I had in a sort of act of defiance and because I’d decided that since I was actually going to see my ex again, I wanted him to think sex, to see what he was missing, and to remember what he’d thrown away so easily. Piqued? Most definitely. Being dumped had hurt, and I wanted him to regret what he’d done. That’s if he had a remorseful bone in his body.
The taxi driver’s voice brought me back from my brief reverie.
“A pretty woman is a pretty woman, whatever she’s wearing. And you were unforgettable that night. May I say you made a lasting impression on me?”
Once more I felt myself blushing. I reasoned he was simply flattering me, but why should I object even if that were the case? I’d been the girlfriend of a mature man for some years. I was no coy young virgin, no silly young teenager but why would I not be thrilled by the attentions of an attractive man not much older than myself? For attractive he certainly was, there was no getting away from it.
From what I could see of him and from what I could recall from the first time we’d met, not that I’d been in a great place in my mind to really notice much at the time, but the guy was fit. He was tanned and had a thick mop of jet black hair swept back off a high forehead, and great eyes of a deep chocolate colour, sparking with intelligence, and surrounded by fringes of long inky lashes. What was not to like? He was a handsome, buff brute.
Casually he asked, “So, will you be staying long in Palmers Green, or will you want to be returning again to your brother’s home once you’ve finished your business there?”
I’d already decided there was no harm in the guy, and no reason not to be truthful, so I simply shrugged and said, emphasising my words deliberately, “I need to collect some stuff from my ex - boyfriend’s pad.” I paused. “Then, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to go on to Luton Airport.”
He spoke without taking his eyes off the road. “Sure. No problem. Going somewhere nice?”
I stared out of the window, watching people going about their business.
“Jersey.”
“Holiday?” he asked, making conversation.
“My father and step-mother live there,” I answered. “They have a small hotel, in Saint Brelade’s Bay, called ‘Pegasus’.”
“After ‘Pegasus’, the
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