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pretty. Very pretty.
    ‘You’re wet through.’ She reached over to the back seat. ‘I’ve got a towel here. It’ll be a bit damp, I went swimming this morning and forgot to take the bag into the house.’
    ‘Thanks.’ Richard took it off her and scrubbed at his hair. ‘I’m sorry – I’m dripping all over the seat.’
    She waved her hand, dismissing his words.
    ‘Mind if I take my coat off? I’ll put it on the floor.’
    ‘That’s fine!’ She smiled at him.
    Heck, she was gorgeous. He became aware how small the car was, how close they were. He leaned self-consciously against his door, running the towel over his face and around the neck of his polo-neck jumper. He’d need to change it, but not here. He stopped. ‘I’ve lost my rucksack,’ he said. ‘I dropped it back there. It had all my things in it.’ His spare clothes, his best suit for the interview, his shoes.
    ‘We can’t go back,’ she said. ‘Anyway, they’ve probably trashed it by now.’
    Richard picked up his parka and rummaged in the inside pocket. ‘Still got my wallet.’
    They lapsed into silence. Yet it didn’t feel awkward. Richard couldn’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable in someone’s company. And, despite the odd circumstances they were in, she must have felt the same, because she leant her head on the back of her seat and closed her eyes.
    When she spoke she kept them closed. ‘You were coming from the station?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘Where were you going?’
    ‘Staying with relatives in Ashford for a few days,’ Richard said. ‘I’m hoping to get a place in the university hospital in Manchester that specialises in training medical students. I’ve got an interview next Monday.’
    ‘Oh, really? You must be brainy!’
    ‘Not really.’ Richard laughed. ‘But I do want to be a doctor, if I’m good enough. How about you?’
    ‘I’m in college, training as a hairdresser. And eventually I want my own salon…’ She stopped.
    Richard raised his eyebrows: why did she sound so defensive?
    ‘My mother thinks I should do what I want… My stepfather … he keeps pushing me to drop the course and work in his office.’
    ‘Ah. What is it?’ Richard shifted around so he could see her mouth better. ‘The business?’
    ‘Painting and decorating. Mainly commercial property, now.’ She grimaced. ‘It used to be my dad’s business. He liked doing up people’s houses, but after he died Mum married George. He went for shops and offices. He says there’s more money in it. And you don’t have to “kowtow” to what he calls “jumped-up nobodies”.’ Richard was stunned when she said, ‘I hate him.’
    ‘Oh.’ He couldn’t think of anything to say.
    ‘He’s a pig … and a bully.’ She turned to look out of the side window.
    He could see her long eyelashes moving furiously. He touched her hand. She didn’t pull away but clasped his fingers tightly for a few seconds. They didn’t speak.
    Finally the heavy rain stuttered and stopped. Karen leant forward and switched off the wipers. She studied the car park for a few seconds. ‘I think that’s it for now.’ She tucked her hair behind her ears and peered upwards at the sky. ‘Where can I drop you off?’
    Richard started; he’d been admiring her profile. ‘Nearest bus stop, if you don’t mind?’
    ‘Rubbish, I’ll drive you to Ashford. It’s only twenty minutes.’
    ‘Haven’t you somewhere else you need to be?’
    ‘No.’ Karen paused. ‘I was on my way to visit my mum in hospital.’ She pushed the sleeve of her jacket up to look at her watch. ‘I’ve missed visiting-time now, though.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’ He felt it was his fault. ‘Your mother’s ill?’
    ‘No.’ She settled in her seat and turned the ignition key. The engine hummed into life. ‘No, she’s not ill.’ She shook her head.
    Richard waited.
    ‘I can go and see her tomorrow.’ Karen put the Mini into gear and took the handbrake off. ‘She won’t mind. She’s