Another Summer by Sue Lilley

hot-footing it down there with another girl in tow?  How does that work?”
    “Long story, mate.  Give it a rest.  I’ll be dropping Lisa off on the way.”
    Steve nodded, not really convinced.  “So, ring Heather when you get there, yeah?  She’s pissed off now but she’ll worry.”
    Thank Christ Lisa woke up before Heather and they managed to escape.  She didn’t say anything about the sofa incident.  Didn’t say much at all in the car for which Joe was grateful.
    Raking up the past always unsettled him, made him feel like a failure.  It had been easy in the beginning, when Evie had worshipped the ground he’d walked on.  And it was maybe okay to think of nothing but getting laid when you were nineteen.  But in your thirties?  Not so much.  How had it taken him until now to get that? 
    Steve was right.  Evie deserved better and he owed it to her now to put things right.  But first he had to get to her and the traffic on the M1 was barely crawling.  They were down to one lane due to road works and an inconvenient dunch that looked minor rather than fatal.  By lunch time they were still passing Sheffield.
    Joe could hardly see.  Headlights in the middle of the day always gave him a headache.  The wipers couldn’t cope with the relentless rain or the muddy spray chucked up by the lorry he had no chance of passing.  At this rate they’d be lucky to make it to Cheltenham.  Cornwall was an impossible dream.
    After another hour or so, he knew he had to stop.  Lisa was asleep but he needed a break, a slash and more petrol.  He hated motorway services but Burger King would have to do.  Maybe the traffic would ease off while they were in there and he could claw back a bit of lost time.
    But it was nearly four when they hit the M42 and Joe’s aching body was locked in position.  When the turn-off for Stratford upon Avon loomed ahead in the gloom, he knew if he didn’t get off the motorway, he’d be ready to kill himself.
    Lisa woke up rubbing her eyes.  “Why are we stopping here?”
    “Because I’m knackered and I need a cup of tea and a sugar rush.”
    “If you fancy a proper tea shop, I know a place.  We go sometimes for treats before the theatre.”
    Of course she’d know a place.  It was on her doorstep.  Just not quite near enough.  They still had a hell of a drive.
    “I need to find a cashpoint.”
    “I’m costing you a fortune aren’t I?”
    “Let me worry about that.  And don’t start crying on me again.  There’s enough water around already.”
    Even so, he was relieved the machine didn’t chew up his card.  If Evie had cleaned out their joint account, he could hardly have blamed her.  It was mostly her money anyway.  But he knew deep down, she would never be that vindictive, no matter what she thought he’d done.
    He bought an umbrella from an enterprising joker selling them for a fiver.  Lisa tucked her arm in his so they could snuggle underneath it and he noticed yet again that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
    “You’re getting soaked again.  Here, have this.”
    He practically forced her arms into his denim jacket.  At this rate, she may as well keep it.  But he couldn’t handle a see-through sweater on top of everything else.
    She led the way to the old town.  The river was running very high, almost lapping onto the grass.  There was no sign of the famous swans.  They must have taken refuge in the reeds.  He knew how they felt.  The tiny umbrella was delivering a constant dribble down the back of his shirt.
    The tea room was quaint and traditional with exactly the black and white timbers Joe had imagined.  Even the menu was in Copperplate script.  Their tea came in a china pot and the cakes were arranged on a chintzy stand with a fancy silver handle.
    Eclairs, what else?  Joe tried not to watch Lisa sucking the cream out of one end.  What was wrong with him, to be so turned on?  She was too young.  Too pregnant.  Too everything that wasn’t his