I sit forward and wrap my arms around my knees. ‘You really like the quiet life, don’t you?’
‘Suppose I do these days. Life hasn’t always been this calm.’
I assume he’s referring to life with his mum and step-dad. I want to ask but am frightened in case it opens up the way for him to ask about my past. I rest my head on my knees and exchange a smile with him.
‘I imagine it must be nice to work with your cousin, seeing as you get along so well,’ I say, going for the positive angle.
‘Most of the time.’ Kerry sits up himself now so we are side by side. He throws the blade of grass away and, resting his arms on his knees, picks at the cuticles of his fingers.
‘Ew, don’t do that.’ I screw up my face. ‘Stop picking.’ I tap his hands away, but when he doesn’t respond I grow concerned. ‘Everything all right?’
Kerry takes out his tobacco pouch and rolls a cigarette. He draws deeply on the lighted roll-up before puffing out perfect smoke circles. At last he speaks. ‘I’ve had my hours cut at the bike shop, well, not hours more like days. I’m on a three-day week as of tomorrow.’
‘Oh no. Were you expecting that?’
Kerry nods and flicks the ash from his cigarette. ‘Things have been pretty quiet for a while now and although Max is my uncle, his loyalties are to Joe, besides the fact Joe has Bex and the kids to look after.’
‘Will you manage or will you have to look for another job?’
‘Think I’ll manage. I get the odd paint job in now and again. It pays well and I can live pretty cheaply for now.’ Kerry stubs his cigarette out on the grass and flicks the end away. He gets to his feet and, picking up his jacket, he holds his hand out to me. ‘Come on, let’s go for a spin. You don’t want to hear all my troubles.’
I’m becoming more relaxed and comfortable on the bike, feeling braver about leaning into the bends and ducking down behind Kerry’s shoulder to make myself more aerodynamic. We cruise through the countryside and after an hour wind our way back towards Rossway.
As we reach the High Street, a car shoots out from a shop car park right in front of us. Kerry’s reactions are fast and I instantly feel the bike lock up, the back wheel snatching and biting into the tarmac before sliding out to the left. The squeal of the tyre and blast of the horn are simultaneous.
I hear a shriek and realise it’s come from me. I shut my eyes, certain we are going to collide with the car. I feel the bike swerve to the right, flip back to the left and then come to an abrupt halt and the engine cut out.
When I open my eyes, I’m relieved to see we have stopped safely at the side of the road, the silver car having sped off down the High Street, apparently ignorant of the incident.
Kerry’s gloved hand pats my leg. ‘You okay?’
Even though I can feel myself shaking, I don’t want to make a fuss. ‘I’m fine. That was close.’
Kerry mutters some expletives directed at the car driver and shakes his head. ‘Right, let’s get back. Hold on.’
Within a couple of minutes we are parked up on the forecourt of the bike shop. ‘Fancy a coffee?’ asks Kerry. Before I can answer, a toot of a car horn interrupts us and we both look up to see a silver BMW M3 pulling up into a parking bay outside the café.
‘I don’t feckin’ believe it,’ says Kerry. ‘It’s that prick who pulled out in front of us.’
As the driver emerges and heads our way, I groan out loud. ‘Oh shit, it’s Ed.’
‘Don’t look so worried,’ says Kerry, as he hangs his crash helmet on the handle bar and begins to undo my chinstrap. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘In theory,’ I reply.
‘And in practice. You did nothing wrong.’
I give him a small smile of gratitude. Kerry leans back on his bike and begins to roll a cigarette.
Ed is striding over to us. The scowl on his face isn’t a very promising prospect. ‘Hi, Ed. This is a surprise.’
‘So it would seem.’ He stops in front of me, dropping a kiss on my cheek. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing. Kerry gave me a ride on his bike, that’s all.’
‘Humph. You never said.’ Ed continues to frown.
‘All right, Ed. How’s it going?’ Kerry draws on his cigarette. He thinks he looks disinterested, but I can tell he’s pissed off, it radiates from him.
‘Kerry,’ acknowledges Ed, before turning his attention back to me. ‘What are you doing going on the back of a motorbike anyway? Bloody dangerous things.’
‘Oh, Ed, you sound so pompous, that’s the sort of thing my Dad would say.’ I smother a laugh. ‘Anyway, look, I’m in one piece, no harm done and, besides, Kerry was very careful.’