Page 4 of Secret Paths

Then she smiles. “That is a ridiculous use of petrol.”

“It is not as though I am billing anyone.”

“You work for a bank. I thought you people took money seriously.”

“I will explain my financial philosophy another time,” I grin.

The road shines beneath the headlights, and the village seems to have tucked itself away for the night. Dark houses. Wet stone walls. A fox slipping through a gap in a hedge before it catches sight of the car and vanishes.

Mandy rests her elbow against the door, watching the road ahead.

“You surprised me tonight,” she says.

I look at her. “In a good way?”

“Do not get carried away.”

“That does not answer the question.”

She tucks the loose curl behind her ear. “I thought you would spend the night chatting to the bridesmaids and finding ways to avoid anything heavy.”

“I carried half the tables in that place.”

“I know.”

“I was very impressive.”

“You were useful.”

“Useful. Helpful.”

“They are not insults.”

“I am starting to think they are.”

Mandy turns towards me a little more. “You notice things.”

I wait.

“The bride’s dad was looking for his speech. You found it before he started panicking. You saw the waitress struggling with the drinks delivery and helped without making her feel daft.”

I do not know what to do with the seriousness in her voice.

So I keep driving.

“Are you trying to analyse me?”

“I am not analysing you.”

“Sounds suspiciously like analysis.”

She smiles, but it fades quickly.

“You are not quite what you let people think.”

I glance at her. “What do people think?”

“That you are charming and easy-going and never bothered by anything.”