Hard Tail(21)

I swallowed the exquisite mouthful, suffering a pang of regret for its passing. "That's amazing. Seriously, amazing. I'd sell my grandmother for regular lunches of this quality."

Matt grinned. "If it's all right with you, I'd prefer the two quid."

I nodded. "It's probably just as well. I think the authorities tend to frown on unofficial disinterments, anyway. And my mum would kill me."

***

My sandwiches from Asda tasted like plastic garnished with blotting paper by comparison. I choked them down with the aid of a smoothie-had to get some vitamins in somehow-and prepared for another long, lonely afternoon.

Only to find I was rushed off my feet booking in repairs and services. Perhaps the decent weather we'd been having had prodded people to make sure their bikes were roadworthy-at any rate, I wasn't complaining. I just hoped Matt wouldn't be, seeing as he was the one who'd have to do the actual work.

I hardly saw Matt until it was closing time-just quick words in passing as he brought out bikes people had come to collect and took in others to get to work on them. When the bell jangled dead on six o'clock, I had to stifle a groan-didn't the customers realise we had homes to go to?

On seeing it was only Adam, I gave a relieved smile. "Are you here for Matt?"

"'S right. Goin' f'r a beer." He gave me a long look.

Feeling a bit like a bug under a microscope, I escaped to the back room to tell Matt his friend was back. As he wiped his hands on a greasy rag, the necklace caught my eye. "Matt?" I said without thinking.

"Yeah?" He turned. Smiled.

My stomach flipped over. "Er. Your necklace." I faltered. I couldn't just come out and ask him about it; that would be weird. "It's really nice." I cringed internally but forced myself to carry on. "Unusual. Did you get it on holiday?" 

Matt's smile wobbled. His gaze darted over my left shoulder to where I realised Adam had followed me in. "This? Oh-no. I mean, um. I can't really remember. Probably in a shop somewhere. I mean, obviously, it must have been a shop. Cornwall, maybe. Or somewhere else. Probably." He was blushing crimson by the time he finished speaking, and he was looking anywhere but at me.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Why would he lie, if there was nothing to hide?





Chapter Six




After I'd wrangled my new bike into the car and got it home-easier than you might think, as it all seemed to clip together like an expensive bit of Lego-I was itching to try it out. Should I eat first, I wondered? Wolverine hadn't turned up, so obviously it couldn't be dinnertime.

Then again, he hadn't turned up for breakfast, had he? I tried not to worry too hard. Maybe he'd just found someone else to bully into operating a tin opener for him. Maybe he'd even taken up hunting.

Yeah, right. That was about as likely as me taking up pole dancing in a sparkly thong.

I decided to ride first, eat later, so I wheeled my bike into the hallway-after all, it was brand new and clean as a whistle; Jay's carpets had nothing to fear-and went to get changed. Seeing as I was still a bit short of clothes, I slung on a pair of jogging bottoms and a T-shirt I'd already worn once. They hummed a bit and were terminally crumpled from where I'd hung them on the floor last night. I grinned at my reflection in the mirror. Kate would have had conniptions.

Then I ran downstairs to get out my new toy.

I kept away from the main roads and the industrial bit, taking Eling Lane down to a sort of causeway across the river with a tiny toll booth, and stopped for a bit to admire the view. To one side was marshland; to the other, a sailing club, with a forest of white masts bobbing gently on the water. Beyond them lay warehouses, and in the distance, the edge of Southampton docks with a stack of brightly coloured containers like a child's building bricks. People were out walking their dogs, and the occasional fellow cyclist whizzed by. Despite the evidence of busy commerce around me, it felt extraordinarily peaceful.

I crossed the causeway and headed up Eling Hill, which was pretty steep but mercifully short. It wound up past the pretty stone church of St. Mary's on the left, and some equally attractive cottages on the right. It was all very picturesque, but I couldn't shake the feeling it wasn't exactly what the Genesis had been designed for.

As soon as I could, I decided, I was going to find out where the proper mountain bike trails were. Maybe Matt wouldn't mind me tagging along on a Thursday night? I'd definitely have to get in a bit of practice first, though, so as not to look like a total wimp. Going uphill, I could already feel the unaccustomed exertion in my thighs and in my buttocks. Reluctantly, I turned the bike around and headed for home, not wanting to overdo it the first time out and end up walking funny next day. Yes. That was what I'd do: get in a week or two's practice, and then ask Matt if I could go out with him.