Page 5 of Secret Paths

“That is a very flattering assessment.”

“It is not an assessment. It is a reputation.”

“Ah. Worse.”

Mandy looks down at her hands. “I think it is only part of you.”

The car feels smaller.

I should make a joke. I can feel one forming somewhere in the back of my mind, ready to step in and make the moment easier.

But I do not want easier.

“You are not quite what people think either,” I say.

Her gaze lifts.

“No?”

“No.” I turn into the lane leading to her cottage. “Everyone sees the GP who has a sensible answer for everything.”

“And?”

“And then the chef made one stupid joke about sausages and you laughed so hard you nearly snorted wine out of your nose.”

Her mouth twitches.

“It was funny.”

“It was appalling,” I chuckle.

“It was appallingly funny.”

“And then you made a worse one.” I give her a quick look that says and you know it.

She looks out of the windscreen, but I can see the smile trying to happen.

“So you think I should just be serious?”

“No,” I say, pulling up outside her cottage. “That is the bit I mean. There is more to you than just prim and proper. And it suits you.”

She is quiet for a second.

Then she locks eyes with me, the smile still there, small and reluctant and entirely hers.

“You notice too much.”

“Only with you.” Mandy unclips her seatbelt and slips her shoes back on.

“Thank you for the lift.”

“Any time.”

She does not reach for the door.

I leave the engine running for a few seconds too long before I turn the key. The heater dies with it, and the sudden quiet changes the shape of the car. Rain ticks softly against the roof, and the light by her front door turns the wet windscreen silver.

Mandy sits beside me with her bag on her lap, one hand curled around the strap.