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how I feel about racing? Because if you’re going to be my girl, you have to take me warts and all.’ He took her hand in his. ‘Well?’
    â€˜Whatever you did, Sam, I would still want to be with you.’ She squeezed his hand.
    He beamed at her. ‘That’s wonderful! But I have to warn you, when there is a race looming I have to spend a great deal of time working on the car, which means if you want to be with me you’ll have to spend a lot of hours hanging around the garage. It’s a lot to ask of a girl.’
    â€˜Not if she really likes you.’
    â€˜I’m so glad you said that. Come on, let’s get the bill and we had better get you home. How about taking in a film tomorrow night? It helps me relax after a hard day, and at least I get to hold you in the dark.’
    â€˜That would be lovely,’ she agreed.
    Outside her house, Sam took her into his arms and kissed her. ‘We are going to have some exciting times together, lovely Connie. I’ll meet you outside the cinema at six thirty tomorrow.’ He put his finger under her chin and tipped her face upwards. ‘And if some other man comes on to you, tell him you are already spoken for. Right?’
    â€˜Right!’ she said and kissed him.
    She watched him drive away and went inside, smiling to herself.
    â€˜Have a good time?’ asked her mother. Her father peered over his paper at her, waiting for her answer.
    Lovely!’ she said. ‘We went to Hillhead and had a picnic then swam. On the way home we stopped for a meal.’
    George Morgan spoke. ‘Someone was telling me in the pub about your boyfriend,’ he said. ‘Seems he’s a good driver and a bit of a star on the racing track.’
    Connie was delighted. ‘Really?’
    â€˜Yes, seems he’s got a future there. I hope he doesn’t drive fast when he takes you out, Connie?’
    â€˜No need to worry, Dad, he takes good care of me. He’s a safe driver on the roads, I promise.’
    Her father disappeared behind his paper.
    Connie glanced across at her grandmother, waiting for her usual comment, but to her surprise the old woman remained silent.

Four
    When Connie arrived at work the following day, she knew that John Baker would have returned from his holiday. She was still furious that her lover had made no reference to going away during their weekend in Bournemouth, and she was anxious that now he’d slept with her he’d ignore her, which would make her feel cheap and used. But she still maintained a modicum of pride and steeled herself as she saw him walking towards the counter, looking as dapper as ever, but with a tan, which only added to his attraction.
    â€˜Good morning, Connie, how are you today?’
    She studied him intently. He was smiling warmly and seemed genuinely pleased to see her.
    â€˜Good morning, Mr Baker,’ she said politely. ‘Did you have a nice holiday with your family?’
    He frowned at the distant tone in her voice. ‘Thank you, I did. Susan loves playing on a beach, and as you know –’ he paused – ‘my one concern is to please my daughter.’
    She met his gaze coldly. ‘No doubt Mrs Baker enjoyed it too!’
    He stiffened and, staring behind her at the shelves displaying various items, he said sharply, ‘You need to replenish your stock, Connie, before the morning rush. You’d better come with me to the stockroom,’ and he walked away.
    She had no choice but to follow him.
    She waited for him to unlock the door and followed him inside, where he promptly slammed the door shut behind them. Grabbing her by the arm he asked, ‘What on earth was all that about?’
    â€˜I don’t know what you mean,’ she protested, her heart beating wildly. She’d never seen him so angry.
    â€˜Of course you do! What are you on your high horse about?’
    All her inner torment poured forth. ‘You take me away