After Hours by Jenny Oldfield Read Free Book Online Page A

cars. One of the Bullnoses stood safe inside, under the brick arch of the massive railway bridge. The other was missing; presumably out on a job. Carefully she picked her way across the yard, trying to shield her basket from the worst of the rain. ‘Rob?’ she called as she peered inside towards the corner office. There was no sign of life. ‘Walter?’ Cautiously she stepped inside.
    Richie Palmer eased himself from under the stationary car and stood up. He’d recognized the voice and the ankles, and thought for a moment that if he stayed put, Sadie might well conclude there was no one there and turn right around. But he’d look a fool if she spotted him hiding, spanner in hand. So he got up to face her, watched her spin round at the dink of metal as he rapped the spanner on to the ground. This was a meeting he could well do without.
    â€˜Where’s Rob?’ Sadie felt her throat go dry.
    â€˜At the match. They both are.’
    â€˜Oh.’ This possibility had never occurred to her. She was irritated; even her good deeds turned against her. Richie was the last person she’d planned to bump into. ‘Are you sure? They never take a Saturday off.’
    â€˜It’s Derby County.’
    She tilted her head back. ‘I brought them some soup.’
    Her remark hung in the air. Richie looked steadily at Sadie, aware of how she’d avoided him since their night out together. It was clear that she wished the ground would swallow her. ‘I’ll tell them you dropped by,’ he said.
    â€˜Oh no!’ Even being here, alone with Richie, would upset Rob if he found our. He’d think she’d planned it, ‘No, never mind. I’d best be off.’
    He didn’t respond, wiping his hands on a rag slung from a hook on the wall. Then she felt ashamed of treating him so badly, and angry that this was how others arranged her life for her. Why shouldn’t she talk to him? Talk was only talk. ‘Shall I leave you this soup?’ she offered.
    He wished she’d make up her mind; either he was below notice,or he wasn’t. When he’d taken her out to the picture palace, she’d proved in one unguarded moment that she found him attractive. Then she’d gone and cut him dead. Now she was being friendly all over again. Cat and mouse. He stared silently at her.
    His gaze succeeded in unnerving her. ‘It was Rob, really,’ she explained. ‘He went mad at me for walking out with you.’
    â€˜Were we walking out? I thought we went to see a picture.’
    She nodded and turned away, resenting being teased.
    â€˜I ain’t good enough, I don’t suppose?’ Richie stood in her way.
    â€˜It ain’t that. Rob don’t care about that. But it’s Walter he’s thinking of. Walter’s his pal!’
    â€˜And does Walter own you? What about you? What do you think?’ He kept his distance, but didn’t offer to shift.
    â€˜â€™Course not. Only, I owe it to him. Oh, I don’t know!’ She backed off. ‘It’s best left alone.’
    â€˜Is that what you think?’
    His look, his slow voice hooked her like a fish on a line. ‘Yes, it’s what I think!’ She felt the rain slanting against her back as she stepped outside.
    â€˜And is it what you feel?’
    â€˜It’s the same thing, ain’t it?’ With a sudden change of mind, she rushed forward and thrust the basket into his arms. ‘Don’t ask me!’ she cried.
    â€˜You said that before.’ He caught her by the elbow. ‘Remember?’
    The shock of his touch ran through her. She felt herself tremble, then she struggled to get free.
    He let her pull away and stand upright, but he’d brushed his face close to hers, smelt the rose of her soap or perfume. ‘I’ll move on, then,’ he said abruptly. He decided in an instant. ‘It ain’t no good hanging round here waiting for this