Read Infidelity for Beginners for Free Online Page B

furthest inside lane and only pull out to overtake caravans,
buses, lorries, coaches and Fiats, then I steer straight back in again when the
road up ahead is once against clear. This is what you’re meant to do. This is
how you’re meant to drive on a motorway. I know this because I passed a test in
order to get my driving licence.
    BMW man had obviously found his in a fucking Christmas
cracker.
    “What?” I asked the rear view mirror as it flashed me once
again.
    “Hmm?” Sally asked, stirring in the passenger seat beside
me. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked out of the window. “Where are
we? What’s up?”
    “Oh nothing, it’s just this… what, you fucking fuck? ” I yelled, as a wall of light filled the
back windscreen.
    “Andrew!” Sally exclaimed, shocked at the outburst. I don’t
normally swear, especially not in front of Sally, but I do sometimes resort to
it in moments of extreme stress.
    Here is a list of things that
will make me swear:
    Smacking my head
    Hitting my hand with a
hammer
    Stubbing my toe on the
corner of the bed in the middle of the night
    Catching a falling
cactus
    Seeing some sort of
monster running towards me
    Self-assembly
instructions
    Sally’s parents
    Christmas shopping
    Norman
    Other drivers
    If I had the road to myself, or if everyone just stuck to
the rules and we all drove like we were supposed to, then I could scrub that
last one off my list, but there were so many wankers on the road that I burned
to turn my car into an instrument of death every time I got behind the wheel.
    “You son of a fucking…” I growled, putting my foot down to
get the arsehole off my bumper.
    “Andrew, What’s wrong?” Sally asked, looking over her
shoulder as my speedometer needle checked out the view from the 80mphs.
    “It’s this fucking arsehole on my arse,” I told her. “He
keeps flashing me and…”
    Pharp!
    “You bastard…!!!”
    “Andrew!”
    “Well he just hooted me.”
    The cunt!
    “What does he want?” Sally asked.
    “He wants to get past,” I told her.
    “Well let him,” she said, unbelievably.
    Pharp! Pharp! Pharp!
    “MOTHERFUCKER!” I screamed, almost snapping the steering
wheel off in my hands.
    “Andrew, just let him past!”
    “But I’m not doing anything wrong,” I explained.
    “What the hell’s that got to do with anything?” Sally asked,
but I was too busy steering into a long sweeping curve and watching for gaps in
the traffic to answer her.
    “Andrew, just pull in so that he can get past,” she
insisted.
    “But I’m doing eighty miles an hour already,” I said, then
saw I wasn’t, I was actually doing 92mph. 92mph and he was still only ten feet
off my bumper. What was the matter with this maniac?
    “Andrew!” Sally snapped, but I’d be fucked if I was pulling
in for him just because this arsehole wanted to hare along on his own private
road at 100mph.
    I’d been doing 79mph as it was. The national speed limit’s
70mph but this fucking dickhead had flashed and beeped to overtake me when I
was overtaking traffic myself. You know it’s one thing to speed when you have a
clear stretch of road ahead of you, but it’s quite another when you have to
intimidate other speeders in order to do it.
    No, bollocks to him! I wasn’t getting out of his way. I was
in the right and I had the law on my side. At least, I would have once I’d shed
22mph.
    Accordingly, I eased my foot off the accelerator and slowed
to a comparatively snail-like 73mph.
    The stupid thing was that I would’ve probably pulled over
and let him past if he had just sat in my rear view mirror and bided his time,
but it was the fact that he’d tried to bully me off the road that got my goat
up. Why should I have to slow down and get out of the way for him just because
he had a faster car than me? Why should I? Who did he think he was? And why the fuck did he think that counted for
anything with me?
    BMW man began wearing out his horn and strobing the back of
my car