‘Must be a new thing. Farm whores. I suppose the farmers get lonely. Do you cheer them up, love?’
Some of the boys were slouching up behind them now, amused sneers splitting their spotty faces. One of them wolf-whistled.
‘Leave ’er,’ said another. ‘You should be so lucky to have legs like that, Char.’
‘Fuck off. I’m good enough for you when you want to cop a feel.’
The youngsters reverted to arguing amongst themselves. Lucy took advantage of their distraction to remove herself to the ladies’ toilets – unpleasant enough, but not threatening, at least – until she heard the slow thunder of the train pulling in.
She hurried back to the platform, pleased to see that her former adversaries were safely on the train, and looked about her, seeing nobody.
Then a pair of hands covered her eyes from behind and she jumped, her wellies weighing down her legs.
‘Rob!’ she squealed in strangulated excitement. ‘Is that you?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘it’s the Brecon Beacons Ripper. I have you at my mercy.’
She elbowed his ribs and he coughed, letting go of her. His laughing face was never more welcome.
‘You made it, then?’ she said dryly.
‘By the skin of my teeth,’ he said, picking up his bags and shaking his head. ‘Fucking car. Thanks for coming to pick me up.’
On the station forecourt he looked blankly one way then the other.
‘Where’s your car? Nice shoes, by the way.’
‘Shut up. I hope you’ve brought some wellies too. And if you’re looking for my car, you won’t find it.’
He put the bags down again and stared at her.
She nodded.
‘Shit. I’m not ready for this.’ He had to regain his breath for a moment or two.
He picked up the bags.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘Lead on, MacDuff.’
Lucy stomped over to the Range Rover. Rob threw his bags in the back, then climbed up beside Lucy, who sat in the middle of the three, already belted up.
‘You must be Rob,’ drawled Richard, putting out a hand to shake.
‘You must be Richard,’ mimicked Rob, taking it.
Lucy watched the clasp bob up and down in front of her stomach, Richard’s bigger hand, Rob’s longer fingers, an expensive signet ring, a pair of black rubber bracelets.
‘And our Lucy,’ said Richard. ‘A rose between two thorns.’
Her mind almost blew with the force of their two gazes. It was what she had wanted and dreaded, finally happening.
‘Thanks for the lift,’ said Rob, looking out at the rainy dark again. ‘Filthy night for it.’
‘I’ve seen worse,’ said Richard, starting the engine.
Rob made a face at Lucy, as if to say, I knew he would be like this.
‘You must be hungry,’ she said. ‘We’ve a casserole keeping warm in the oven for you. And the owner left us a couple of bottles of wine.’