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“I’m not kidding,” he said. Although in the back of his mind there was a voice telling him he was seriously demented. “Put something else on. Maybe a baggy sweatshirt or something. Here.” he unzipped the old grey hoodie he was wearing and handed it to her. “Take this. It’s autumn. Wrap up.”
She didn’t take the sweatshirt.
“You have lost your tiny mind. What I wear, or don’t wear, has nothing to do with you. Now get out of the way. I’m busy.”
He shook his head. He couldn’t let her go out looking like that. She would attract too much attention. Men would drool over her. It wasn’t good.
“I can’t let you go out like that,” he told her.
“You can’t stop me.”
She had a point.
“Fine.” He ran a hand over his head. “You can go, but I’m coming with you.”
Davina stared at him for a moment.
“Have you been eating the mushrooms that grow in the garden? Because I don’t think they’re the edible kind.”
“We’ll take my car – it’s man-sized,” he told her. “But first you need to get a coat.”
“You don’t play with a full deck, do you?”
There was a rumbling noise in his chest – it matched the sound of rushing wind that was in his head.
“I’m sticking to you. In that get-up you’ll attract too much attention.”
“Oh.” Her face softened. “That’s sweet, but you don’t need to protect me. I can take care of myself. And, truthfully, I don’t need you hanging around all day.”
Jack could have kicked himself. He’d forgotten all about her dodgy dealing. That was why he was following her, not to make sure men left her alone.
“I’m sticking with you. Get a coat. I’ll drive.”
She seemed to consider arguing with him. He pointed at the house. With a dramatic sigh she turned on her heels and headed back indoors. Jack nodded. That was more like it. Now he could keep an eye on her and interfere with her life at the same time. All good. He folded his arms and leaned against his car.
It was a lot easier than she’d thought to get Jack away from the house for the day. All it took was a dress that was two sizes too small and a push-up bra. Add to that a healthy sprinkling of reverse psychology and the Terminator was gone.
She worried her lip as they drove into London. She’d left her movie – her baby – in the hands of three teenagers who were bunking school, one accountant and a cameraman who was blackmailing her. Excellent. Maybe she’d be able to salvage the footage during the editing. She hoped so. Time was ticking. Between a looming inspection and Disgusting Derek’s threats it would be a miracle if the movie ever got made.
“Why are we going all the way to London?” Jack grumbled beside her.
“I’m going because I have appointments there. You’re going because you insisted on coming.”
“Why didn’t we get the train?”
She looked towards heaven and counted to ten.
“Because you said—” she lowered her voice and grunted “—get in the car. I’m driving.” She cleared her throat. “There seemed little room for argument.”
He glanced at her before returning his attention to the M25.
“So why are you going to London?”
“Appointments.”
“What appointments?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
