“What? That’s way too many things.”
“You just need practice.”
“I don’t get it! I don’t want to get it. Can we stop this, please?”
“We have done many things in the last while—this can’t be as scary. For example, we saw your father.”
“And you performed at a château.”
“Terrifying,” he said. “And we’ve run from the police in the Jardin du Luxembourg.”
“Right. We’re criminals.”
“Alors!The car is off. Make sure it’s in neutral so it won’t go anywhere once it’s on. We do that with the gear shift like this.”
He put her hand on the gear shift and put his hand over hers. She was trembling.
“I will help. I am here.”
They put it into neutral together. She tried to breathe deeply.
“The clutch must be fully pressed down before you turn the key, and also when changing gear. Now, turn the car on. Don’t do anything with the brake yet. Gently apply pressure to the accelerator to get the revs up. Then keep doing that while easing off the clutch until you feel the car will move. Then take off the parking brake, ease off the clutch and the car will go forward.”
He used his hands to show her what to do with her feet. The car inched forward.
She smiled, half-thrilled, half-petrified. “I’m driving!”
They rolled slowly down the big driveway.
“Let the car go a bit faster. You’ll hear when the engine wants to move into second.”
“Don’t let me crash!”
“We’re going to shift into second gear—so press the clutch fully down, remove pressure from the accelerator to change gear, then change gear and you’ll be in second.”
She did everything he said, his hand on hers.
“I’m in second! I did it!”
“Let’s go to the end of the driveway. Then use your right foot to brake. But you’ll need to press the clutch, too, otherwise the car will stall.”
“Too much information! I don’t like it!”
His hand was still on hers on the gear shift, warm and supportive. “Yes, you do. Take your foot off the accelerator, put it on the brake, and when you’re about to stop, apply pressure to the clutch so you press both pedals at the same time.”
They came to a stop at the gates. She eyed him.
“I just drove a manual car!”She gave him a giant kiss.
“See? Everyone is terrible until they practice.”
“It’s weird, but I like not being good at something.”
“Join the club. Not that I like not being good at things, but I’m not good at lots of things. Would you like to be not very good all over again?”
“Yes, please.” She beamed at him.
Sure enough, there were thirty-nine new emails waiting for Marlow when she opened her laptop. She had twenty-two minutes until she was officially on the clock. Twenty-two minutes to untangle her thoughts.
