She sat, illuminated by the lamppost, tapping her French painted fingernails on the steering wheel. Five minutes ago she'd sped into the car park at 40mph preparing her apology. As it turned out she wasn’t the late one, despite never wearing a watch.
She observed the casual way he rolled into the space next to her and turned off his engine. As usual she unlocked her doors, climbed out, relocked the doors behind her, and climbed into his red Golf, noting the attentive cleanness. He leant over and swept his lips against hers, a habitual gesture, with no passion.
“So,” he smiled, raising his dark eyebrows, “I presume, as we are on neutral ground, I’ve done something wrong?”
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I want to know more;}.
ReplyDeleteGina
I'm also intrigued.
ReplyDeleteSince you invite editorial comments, I'll add one thought - the idea that his car constitutes 'neutral' territory is strange to me. It either implies something (tbd) about their relationship, else it's simply misplaced. Apologies that I can't be more precise!
Thank you both, I'm currently trying to decide where I should submit this story once it is finished.
ReplyDeleteThe neutral territory was supposed to refer to the fact they are meeting up in a car park rather than at either of their homes or favourite places, but if that isn't coming across I'll have a rethink!