Although three separate customers had given me funny looks, it wasn't until a tiny Asian woman walked in and asked me pointedly if it was cold up there that I realised I was still wearing Jay's bloody woollen hat. Indoors. In June.
I tore it off, cursing, and shoved it under the counter.
***
I didn't see Matt to speak to again until after I got back from a trip to the bank-luckily it was only down the road, so I didn't have to leave the stock in Matt's accident-prone hands for more than a quarter of an hour or so. I went through the you're-not-Jay routine with the lady behind the counter and eventually walked back in the shop door newly stocked with change for the till.
Matt was practically bouncing up and down with excitement. "It's here!"
"What is?" I asked.
"The iO single-speed." He pointed to the bike at the front of the row, which I vaguely registered as being a different colour to the one that had been there earlier. "Jay bought it before the accident. It came while you were out."
"What's so special about it?" I asked, crouching down to get a better look. It had a few scratches-obviously second-hand. Then I frowned. "Hang on, is there a bit missing?"
"You mean the gears? Sorry. Shouldn't laugh. That's what single speed means. No gears."
"What?" At this rate, I was going to end up with a permanent line etched across my forehead. "I don't get it. What's the point of a bike with no gears? Especially for … " I glanced at the invoice, which was Sellotaped to the handlebars. "Bloody hell, three hundred quid?"
"Yeah, I know-it's a bargain, innit? Bloke wanted a quick sale. Said his wife told him either one of his three bikes went, or she did." Matt gave the bike a fond glance-then sighed, as if he really wished he could take it home with him. "The frame's steel-makes it nice and springy. Less harsh than aluminium. This one's been fitted with a carbon-fibre fork and handlebars-the Shimano brakes come as standard."
"But … " I was wondering when Matt had stopped speaking English and had moved on to gobbledygook. "Why?" I asked in the end.
He looked at me blankly.
"I mean, why have a bike without gears?"
"Oh-right. Well, some people like it. I mean, they're a lot sturdier-less to damage in a crash-and obviously, there's less maintenance, and they're lighter without the derailleur and all that guff. And round here we've got a lot of single-track trails, and it's not that hilly, so it's perfect terrain for a single-speed. They're supposed to feel more natural, more direct when you ride them." Matt's hand rested lovingly on the saddle.
"Want to give it a try, then?" I asked, amused. I still didn't quite get the point of it all, but maybe you had to be a serious mountain biker to understand.
Matt's face lit up like one of the 900-lumen bike lights I'd been incautious enough to shine in my eyes while faffing around with the stock. "Really? Um, I probably ought to tell you Jay doesn't usually let me test ride the stock … "
"So? He's not here, is he? Go on, have some fun." I'd been about to say, "Knock yourself out," but Matt, being Matt, might have taken me literally. "Just-take care, okay?"
He nodded vigorously, shaggy hair falling over his face, then wheeled the bike to the door, more carefully than I'd ever seen him do anything. There was a warm feeling spreading through my chest at the thought I'd made him so happy.
Of course, if he managed to trash the bike and himself, things would get a mite chillier. I touched the wooden counter for luck and set to emptying out the little moneybags into the till.
***
When Matt came back, his face was shining, and not just with sweat. "It's brilliant!" he enthused a bit breathlessly, his chest still heaving. "I mean, it's a bit weird 'til you get used to it, and it's harder work uphill, and when you go downhill your legs are going round like buggery, but it's like … " He trailed off, hands waving as they struggled to express what his words couldn't manage. "It's like the bike's just an extension of your legs. Like, you're not so much riding it as being it." He gave me a rueful smile. "That probably sounds like a load of bollocks to you."
"N-no," I managed. My throat was tight, and my vision might even have swum, just a little bit. Matt's smile was broader than I'd ever seen it, he was talking with his whole body, and his enthusiasm wasn't so much infectious as in serious danger of causing a pandemic. He just seemed so … so alive at this moment. As we stood there staring into each other's eyes, I had the strongest, almost painful urge to kiss him.
He'd had me at buggery.
Chapter Nine