‘Becky!’

‘What?’ I knew what, actually.

‘Someone’s dumped a load of scrap metal in the side alleyway,’ Lacey exploded. ’How dare they! I’m going to phone the council and get it removed.’

‘Does this scrap metal by any chance have two wheels and an engine?’ I enquired.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t look that closely.’

‘I think you may in actual fact be referring to my motorized transport,’ I replied, haughtily.

‘Your what?’

‘My motorcycle.’

‘Your what?’ she repeated.

‘The motor bicycle which I have acquired in order to avoid the long walk into town or the alternative long wait for the bus.’

‘I thought Damien was going to let you share the use of the car.’

‘Yeah. Right. That lasted for about three days. Then he needed it urgently — just for one day, he said — and I haven’t seen it since. But then, I never really expected anything else, did you?’

‘Well, I suppose it is his car,’ she replied.

‘Yes, I know. It is his car. So everyone keeps reminding me. Well, it doesn’t matter any more — I have my own wheels. Two of them.’

‘But, can you ride a motorbike? Don’t you have to take a special test, or something?’

‘Done all that!’ I gloated. ‘Ages ago. When I took lessons to drive a car I did my bike training as well. They had a special offer on, and I thought it might come in handy some day. Got a full licence, me.’

‘Wow. You kept that quiet! Does Damien know?’

‘No. It’s going to be a surprise!’

‘Yeah… I’d get him to sit down, if I were you, and break it to him gently.’

‘Actually, I can’t wait to see his face!’

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Show me this thing.’