Part 4 (1/2)

”You're getting grumpy again, aren't you?” Elise grinned. ”Cute.”

I breathed out sharply and remembered Bella's advice. ”So, do you want to come out with us on Friday?” I asked, ignoring her last comment.

”Of course!” Elise pulled a sc.r.a.p of paper from her bag and scribbled down her mobile number onto it. ”Just let me know where and when and I'll be there.”

She handed me the piece of paper, then yanked the fire-exit door open and left the building, me following close behind her. ”I'm looking forward to it already, Eight-Year,” she called back over her shoulder as she walked away from me.

I watched her as she walked across the car park and got into her car, surprised but suddenly ludicrously pleased that she'd want to come out with us. I dug around in my bag for my keys and wandered towards my own car, parked some way from hers. I heard Elise's door slam, then listened as she tried to start the engine, hearing it turning over and over but not fire. I paused, casting a glance back to where Elise was parked, and waited, hearing her engine labour more and more.

Finally I put my keys back in my bag and walked over to her, tapping on her window and gesturing to her to bring her window down. ”Sounds like your starter motor's gone,” I said, leaning forwards slightly, trying to sound like I knew what I was talking about. ”I think turning it over and over's just going to make it even worse.”

”s.h.i.+t!” Elise brought her window back up and turned the key back towards her, pulling it roughly from the ignition. She sat in her car a while, just staring out the front window as if thinking about what to do, then opened the door and got out, cursing under her breath.

”Guess you'll have to call the breakdown people out,” I offered.

She flicked a glance to me then away again. ”I don't have breakdown.” She sighed. ”Just never got round to it when I came back here.” She looked back towards me sheepishly.

”You'll need a tow to the nearest garage then,” I said, fis.h.i.+ng my phone out of my bag.

”Great!” Elise leant into the car and grabbed her bag from the pa.s.senger seat. ”I have to be in Surrey by six and it's quarter past five already.” She slammed the car door.

”How long would the train take?” I asked, looking at my phone to try to find the phone number of the nearest garage.

”Too long.” Elise started rooting around in her bag for her phone, too. ”Guess I'll have to cancel Surrey, then. That'll be one very upset boy.” She cursed again.

”Oh?”

”My nephew's fourth birthday party.” Elise shrugged and flicked a finger over the screen of her phone, presumably finding a phone number.

Elise had a nephew? Why did I find that so sweet?

”I see.” I paused.

”Stupid piece of junk.” Elise turned and kicked at her front tyre, then grimaced. ”Why today of all days, huh? Why?” She jabbed at her phone and held it to her ear.

”Wait...” I touched her arm, the physical contact sending a curious but pleasant jolt through my hand. ”I can take you to Surrey.”

Elise pulled the phone slowly from her ear and cut her call. ”You'd take me?” she asked.

”Uh-huh.” I nodded, turning back to my car. ”But we'll have to get a wriggle on if we're to get there for six.”

”Are you sure?”

”'Course.” I started to walk back to my car. ”C'mon.”

As I approached my car, a wry thought came to me. Elise might have irritated me that morning, but I figured it was times like this you had to be adult enough to put your animosity to one side and step up to the plate. I thought about my own niece in Scotland, five years old herself, and of how crestfallen she'd be if her favourite auntie were to miss her party. I glanced back at Elise coming across the car park after me and figured, whatever I thought of her and whatever she thought of me, she was still a little boy's favourite auntie, too.

”It's very good of you,” Elise now said as she approached my car. She looked hesitantly at me, as if she wanted to say something else, but instead she just came round the pa.s.senger side of my car as I gesticulated with my head that the door was open and she could get in.

”Head for the motorway and I'll tell you which junction to get off at, okay?” Elise said as she buckled herself in and I turned my car around and exited the studio car park.

We drove on in silence for about the first five minutes or so, me trying to ignore my acute awareness of her presence in the car, of her closeness to me, and of her lean legs kicked out in front of her. We exchanged a few comments about the weather, but other than that, we were quiet. It was that awkward, empty silence when you know that you're both struggling to think of something to say but can't manage to come up with a single thing.

”I'm glad I've got a chance to talk to you again today, actually,” Elise suddenly said, finally puncturing the quiet in the car as we approached the motorway.

”Oh yes?” I glanced up in my rear-view mirror but not at her.

”Mm,” she said, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen.

I waited, but all I heard was the droning of my tyres on the road.

”I just wanted to, well, to say sorry, I s'pose, about being funny with you this morning.” Elise s.h.i.+fted slightly in her seat. ”And I wanted to say sorry for saying you'd had a tantrum. That wasn't the most diplomatic thing to say.”

”Okay,” I said cautiously. ”Well, apology accepted.”

And what about saying again earlier that I looked cute when I was annoyed?

Elise didn't say anything more for a few minutes. Instead, she turned her head and stared out the window, watching the scenery speed past us while I drove on, thinking that I should say something in response but not being able to. I was just starting to get uncomfortable, telling myself I really should try to make conversation with her, when Elise spoke again.

”I think I irritate you, don't I?” she said, turning her head to look at me this time. ”When I suggest things to you during takes and things.”

I stared ahead, concentrating on the road, but inside I was churning. So at least she was aware that she annoyed me; that was a start.

”There are ways and means of telling someone something, I think,” I said. It was the most tactful thing I could think of to say.

”And I guess I haven't really done much to endear myself to you-or anyone else-have I?”

I didn't know how to answer that one, but before I could think of a suitable response, she spoke again.

”I've been told before I'm a bit full-on,” she said, reaching down into her bag and pulling her phone out. ”And I know it can get people's backs up, so I guess what I'm saying is that I'm sorry I'm the way I am.” She bent her head down and started texting, so I wasn't sure if she was expecting me to reply or whether I should just let her carry on texting in peace.

”You're not full-on,” I finally said. ”But I think you're not afraid to tell someone what you think of them.” I paused. ”Or tell them what you think of their acting,” I added.

”I do like working with you,” she suddenly said, putting her phone in her lap and gazing back out the window.

”Really?” I replied, surprised.

”Really,” she said, briefly catching my eye then looking away again.

I looked back at her, expecting to see her smirking, but she was still gazing out the window again, her face expressionless.

”But you said I was stilted and hesitant,” I said, adding a small laugh.

”Oh, not that again.” Elise turned and looked at me, exasperated.

I didn't like the instant change in her att.i.tude and, wanting to keep her in a good mood, didn't reply. Instead, I asked her how long until our exit junction and then drove on in silence again.