Hard Tail (6 page)

I sighed. “Look, I’m not giving in, all right?” I said. Wolverine’s ear twitched. “I’m merely conceding you may, possibly, have a point here.” Twenty pounds of feline bruiser wound their way around my ankles, nearly toppling me as I looked around the kitchen, bowl in hand, wondering what to do with the wretched stuff. In the end, I just dumped it out the cat flap. Something was bound to eat it in the night. This was the countryside. They had foxes, hedgehogs, badgers and…things.

I opened up a tin of tuna and forked it into the newly empty bowl. Wolverine leapt on it like a paparazzo on a celebrity sex scandal. Feeling I’d done my good deed for the day, I went to bed.

Only to be woken half an hour later by what felt like a fur cushion full of rocks and nails sitting on my chest breathing fishy fumes and purring like a buzz saw. I sighed, shoved him off to one side and rolled over. God, I hoped I snored.

Chapter Five

The next morning, my bedmate was nowhere to be seen. “Typical male,” I grumbled sleepily, rolling out of bed. Except that wasn’t really fair, was it? Over in the New Forest, Matt would be waking up with Steve, all cosy and lovey-dovey, no doubt. I wondered if they’d kiss. God, of course they’d kiss. They were in
love
. Apparently. They’d probably make time for a quickie before work…

God, I needed a coffee.

My mood didn’t improve when I walked into the kitchen to a horribly familiar smell and a pretty pattern of cat-food paw prints all over the lino. Apparently, Wolverine had been out and in and out again. Either he’d scared off all the local wildlife or that Asda cat food really wasn’t fit for consumption. I wondered if traipsing it all over the floor was his way of making a point.

I put the kettle on, then grabbed some kitchen roll and cleaned up the mess, cursing the entire feline species to Hades as I did so.

Wolverine still hadn’t turned up for breakfast by the time I had to leave for work. I worried all the way to the shop.

It was a bit awkward, seeing Matt at the shop after the balls-up I’d made of things in the café yesterday. I obviously wasn’t the only one who thought so, as Matt did a near-perfect action replay of the way he’d fallen into the shop the first time I’d seen him.

I made a point of rushing forward to help him up. “Are you okay?”

He smiled up at me a bit uncertainly. The bruising around his right eye had started to yellow, giving that side of his face a sickly greenish tint. “Yeah, I’m fine. Two left feet as usual.”

I wondered if it was just nerves or if he’d ever been diagnosed dyspraxic, but it seemed a bit of a personal thing to ask. “I was thinking about what you said,” I blurted out instead as he struggled to his feet.

“Yeah?” He sounded a bit cautious. I couldn’t blame him.

“About getting a bike,” I explained.

“Oh! Right—have you had a look at what we’ve got?” He sounded relieved we were back in his comfort zone. Two wheels good; two legs bad, I supposed. And since you ask, no, I never did get over reading George Orwell while I was at school.

“Honestly?” I grimaced. “I haven’t got a bloody clue what I’m looking for. Or
at
, come to that.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place to find out!” Matt dusted off his palms on the seat of his baggy jeans, momentarily pulling the denim tight. “What are you planning to use it for?”

“Um, what?” I’d got distracted for a moment. “The bike? Well, cycling.”

His brown eyes crinkled at the corners. The right eye was definitely less swollen today, I was pleased to see. “I meant, are you going to ride it on the road or off?”

“Does it make a difference?”

“Er, yeah, just a bit.” I could tell he was trying not to laugh at me. “Look at this bike over here.”

I followed the sweep of his tanned arm, which for once didn’t actually knock anything over. Matt was wearing a lime green T-shirt today. It should have clashed horribly with the orange coral necklace he was wearing, but somehow didn’t. Actually, the necklace looked a little familiar—had he been wearing it yesterday? Or maybe I’d seen someone else wearing one… I realised Matt was waiting for an answer. “The black one?”

“The Genesis, yeah. See the tyres? They’re wide, with plenty of tread—that’s for riding off road, where you need more grip. Road bikes have thinner wheels and not much tread, because what you gain in trail-holding ability and shock absorption, you lose in speed, see?”

I nodded, captivated by the way he seemed to come alive, talking about what he knew so well. I felt a bit of an idiot, though. Well, more than a bit. It all sounded so obvious when he explained it like that. It reminded me of when I took the BMW to the garage, and the mechanics would chatter on about fuel injection and hydraulics, and I’d just have to nod sagely and pretend I understood.

I’d always suspected they’d laughed themselves silly after I’d gone home. I couldn’t imagine Matt doing that, though.

“This one’s a hard tail—it’s only got suspension on the front.” Matt pulled the bike out of the rack to bounce it up and down on its front wheel, and I watched as the front forks telescoped gently. He lifted it back into place and selected another. “Now this one’s a full susser,” he said, giving me another glimpse of that broken tooth. “It’s got rear suspension as well. Why don’t you give it a try?”

I swallowed. I hadn’t been on a bike in ten years or more. At least the karate kept me supple enough that I wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to get my leg over.

So to speak.

I sat on the saddle cautiously—but still wasn’t prepared for how far it went down under my weight. “Whoa! Is it supposed to do this?” I had a moment’s panic. “I haven’t broken it, have I?”

“Nah—these bikes’ll take someone twice your size and then some. It’s just been set up for someone a lot lighter than you; that’s why it’s so squishy. But I know what you mean. I prefer a hard tail myself.”

I flushed slightly as my treacherous brain filled in the
double entendre
. “Can I give that, er, Genesis a go?” I asked, getting off the bike as quickly as I could without totally losing my dignity.

“Go ahead—but you know, if you’re only going to be using it on the road, you might want to look at something more like this.” Matt loped down to the other end of the rack and pulled out a slimline model with knife-edge tyres and dead-straight handlebars. No question about it, this bike looked more, well, me. It was a city bike, not a trail bike. If the Genesis was an off-road rally car, this one was…a Smart Car.

“I’ll stick with the mountain bike,” I said firmly, surprising myself with the strength of my gut reaction. Did I really hate my old life that much?

As he pulled the Genesis out of the rack again, Matt grinned up at me like I’d made his day. “You won’t regret it. They’re great bikes, these.” He had the most infectious smile I’d ever seen, and I found myself grinning back at him—even as something seemed to twist inside me.

I realised he was waiting for me to say something, but my mind was a blank—or rather, it was too full of stuff I couldn’t possibly say.

Could I? Would it really be so bad if I—

And then the bell above the door jangled, and I was stuck twiddling my thumbs behind the counter while Matt spent the next half hour showing our entire stock to a dithery bleached blonde who chewed her hair and texted constantly.

I was intensely glad to see her tight little shorts wiggle out the door again, despite the fact she hadn’t bought a thing—although I wasn’t sorry she’d turned up when she did. What the hell had I been thinking of earlier? The confession I’d been about to blurt out to Matt was the sort of thing you couldn’t ever take back. And what would have been the point?

“You all right?” Matt asked. Obviously, my little round of self-recrimination had been playing itself out on my face like one of Marcel Marceau’s greatest hits.

“Fine!” I said with false heartiness. “Right. Weren’t we in the middle of selling me a bike? Should I take a look at some of the others?”

“Well, to be honest, you won’t get much better than the Genesis for your first ride. It’s a trail bike, so it’s versatile, and it’s got proper disc brakes.”

“Which is good because…?”

“Well, first, they work—not like the rubbish you see on toy-shop bikes—and second, they don’t go tits-up in the wet. They’re a bit heavier than rim brakes, but I doubt you’d even notice the difference. Anyway, I don’t reckon weight’s going to be a crucial issue for you, is it?”

“Well, I’m not planning to race it up Snowdon, if that’s what you mean.”

Matt laughed. “Maybe not in your first week. Nah, the Core 10 is a good, basic model—not too pricey, but it won’t fall apart on you either. Why don’t you try it out for size?” His enthusiasm, as always, was infectious and hopelessly endearing.

“Hmm. What size do you reckon I take in mountain bikes?” I cocked my head and pretended to study the Genesis critically. “Medium? Large? Extra large?”

“Well, eighteen inches is the most popular size, but this one’s a twenty-inch frame, which I reckon should be just right for you. To be honest, I think that’s the only reason it hasn’t sold already—we don’t get all that many blokes your height coming in.”

“So the twenty-inch is the equivalent of an XL, is it?” I pulled the Genesis out of the rack, feeling a totally unwarranted smugness at finding myself above average in this department.

Matt squinted at me and the bike. “More like large,” he replied, bursting my bubble. “But you want plenty of clearance over the top tube for those unplanned ‘foot down’ moments. Trust me, you don’t want to be damaging the family jewels out there. That sort of thing can really spoil a ride.”

I squirmed internally, both at the unpleasant images conjured up and at Matt mentioning my “family jewels”.

“Yeah, looks like that one’s about right,” he went on, oblivious. “A good rule of thumb is to have the saddle at a height where your leg is straight with your heel on the pedal. Then when you’ve got the ball of your foot on the pedal you’ll have a slight bend in your knee. That means you’ll pedal more efficiently and you won’t wreck your back.”

I swung my leg over the bike and sat down on the saddle. It felt comfortable, if a little insecure—I only had the tips of my toes on the floor. My feet itched to get on those pedals and ride it properly.

“Yeah, that’s great.” I felt heat rise in my face as I realised Matt’s critical gaze was now directed at my crotch.

He nodded, as if satisfied with whatever he’d seen there. “Why don’t you take it for a test ride? I mean, it’s dry out, so you won’t have to worry about marking the tyres if you change your mind.”

“Sure you’ll be okay?” I asked, already halfway to the door.

Matt nodded, his eyes twinkling. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Unless you’re planning a quick run down to Brighton or something?”

“I’ll bring you back a stick of rock!” I threw over my shoulder as the door closed behind me.

I had a momentary qualm I might have forgotten how to cycle—after all, it’d been a fair few years—but it turned out it was, as they said, like riding a bike. God, I’d forgotten how much I’d enjoyed this. I bombed down the street, playing with the gears to get a feel for them. The Genesis handled like a dream. It might be an off-road bike, but it didn’t seem to mind slumming it for once. Corners—yes, I could see where a road bike would have the advantage there, if you were going for speed. The riding position, too, was different than I remembered from my old racing bike days—much more upright, rather than hunched over the handlebars. It made for a different sort of ride—less head down into the wind, more looking around and enjoying the scenery. Not that there was all that much scenery in this part of Totton, but it gave me a taste of what it’d be like to ride in open countryside.

I whizzed round the roundabout in the centre of town, then reluctantly headed back to the shop. Matt gave a huge grin when he saw me, which I couldn’t help returning.

“Okay—you’ve sold me on it,” I said, wheeling my bike back into the shop.

Matt came out from behind the counter. “Do you want me to take it out the back?”

I shook my head. “No—it might as well earn its keep on display until tonight. I’ll just put a
sold
label on it.”

I disappeared behind the desk to write one out, and Matt headed out back to carry on with the repairs work, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

It underlined neatly just how much of a spare part (pun not intended) I was in this business. It was a bloody good thing Jay wasn’t actually paying me—I’d have felt honour bound to give him a refund. Just as I was feeling really down about my lack of success as a shopkeeper, though, a steady stream of customers started to come in. Matt must have been right about the Wednesday effect. I actually took a fair bit of money—and even sold my first bike.

Granted, it had three wheels, was pink and covered in daisies, but the little girl dressed to match seemed almost as thrilled with her new ride as I was to have sold it.

After that, we hit a bit of a lull, which left me with little to do but think. And while I had a lot of things to think about—like whether Kate would want to sell the house or to buy out my share (she could move in there with Alex, wouldn’t that be nice?); how long it’d be before I got a letter from her in legalese I no longer had a lawyer living with me to translate; and whether I ought to get a lawyer of my own—for some reason I kept coming back to Matt.