Read Online Starting Over by Sue Moorcroft - Free Book Online

wrenches and gauges idle in their hands.
    ‘Toby will be jealous.’ Pete grinned, tossing back perennially flopped-forward hair.
    ‘I’ve done his, Angel’s framing it.’
    Jos, looking from Tess to the picture, kept saying, ‘Cool! Wicked! That’s amazing. Really amazing. Cool.’
    Her doubts multiplied at Ratty’s continued silence. ‘You don’t have to keep it. But I was doing Toby’s ... Anyway, you could always give it to Toby. But you asked him for the other drawing ...’ Babble. Making him feel awkward, she was nearly sure, gaze fixed to the cartoon, embarrassed because he didn’t want it and didn’t know what to say? How stupid to take an idle joke with a three-year-old, a casual drink when he had nothing better to do, and make a friendship of it. She put out her hand. Even that felt hot and flustered. ‘I’ll take it to Toby, shall I?’
    Bottomless eyes fixed on her. ‘No! I’m going to hang it in here, in the garage.’ Abruptly, he swung on her and pecked her cheek with soft, hot lips. ‘It’s great! Thanks.’
    Relief. It was OK. A little gift from one friend to another, nothing to make a big deal over.
     
    Pink satisfaction, relieved smile, eyes unguarded in pleasure. Ratty couldn’t help feeling that she’d made it easy for him. Catriona had bored him, on Sunday evening, with her self-self conversation, not particularly interesting. Tess had more to say in five minutes than Catriona had in an hour and he’d spent the evening wishing he’d explored the situation with Tess.
    He lifted his eyebrows as though struck by an idea. ‘It isn’t much of a thank you, but I’ve a pair of tickets to the Spring Ball at Port Manor this weekend. Can you make it?’ Just the right amount of casual spontaneity.
    And it nearly worked. A rush of something lit her eyes and her smile was shyly pleased. ‘Angel told me about the ball ... It would be lovely.’
    But Jos was frowning. ‘Um, Ratty,’ he dropped in anxiously, ‘you’ve already invited Catriona.’
    Ratty stared at Jos, swinging his new picture gently. ‘Christ, how stupid of me. I’ll ring Catriona ...’
    ‘Oh no!’ Tess thrust the idea away. ‘Really. It doesn’t matter!’ A glance at her watch, a quick farewell, and she was gone.
    Ratty studied the caricature, Pete studied Ratty. The garage was silent and familiar. Ramp, fitted cabinets, lifted bonnets. A wheel against the wall where Pete struggled with a seized brake drum. The acrid smell of old oil.
    Jos was gazing after Tess, trouble clouding his brow. Suddenly, it cleared. ‘ I can take Tess, can’t I, Ratty?’ His pleasure at conjuring up a solution was written all over his face.
    Ratty sighed. ‘I suppose you can, Jos, yes.’
    And off Jos ran, ‘Tess, Tess!’ Out of sight towards Little Lane.
    Pete had to clutch the front of an MG, he laughed so hard. ‘ That didn’t quite go to plan, did it?’
    Ratty had never been so disgusted with himself. ‘I was amateurish .’
    ‘Your face! Good old Jos. What next?’
    He closed the folder over Nigel and tucked it high up on a shelf. ‘Don’t know. Yet.’ Turned back to a Mark II Jag. Thought about the Jag’s timing, tried to keep his mind on the fact that if it rattled at the top of the engine when revved to 1500rpm, the chain could be adjusted there. If it was the bottom chain, it meant the engine had to come out and he’d need to ring the customer for clearance before he went on.
    He took the tagged ignition key down from the row of hooks. How could he have let it go wrong? Why hadn’t he lied that he and Catriona were over? He could easily have made it true. He turned the Jag’s engine over and listened carefully to the rattle.
    Tess. There was something graceful about her. As if she ought to walk with out-turned toes, like a dancer. Instead she strode along as if impatient to move through the countryside and see all the pretty colours, hair streaming.
    Angel said Tess’s hair was strawberry