The Chase: an ebook short story. Paul FinchЧитать онлайн книгу.
it for what seemed like several minutes.
‘I see you’ve already collected six points for speeding offences this year,’ he said.
She gave a contrite smile. ‘I’m on the road an awful lot.’
‘So you drive for a living. You should know better than the average motorist.’
‘It’s the speedcameras. You can’t go anywhere without one of them clocking you.’
He handed the license back. ‘The speedcameras are there for a reason. I’ve followed you for over four miles, and all the way you were doing nearly fifty along thirtymilesperhour roads. If you’d knocked someone down at that speed, you wouldn’t be looking at a fine right now … you’d be looking at prison. So in some ways I’m doing you a favour, aren’t I?’
This was probably true, Alex reflected, feeling a tad guiltier than she had.
He paused. Though the beam of torchlight was angled into her face, Alex again had the distinct and rather creepy feeling that he was looking down at her thighs, which her knee-length skirt had exposed a little.
‘f I issue you with a fixed penalty notice now,’ he said, ‘that’ll be another three points on your license. That means you’ll have nine. One more strike after that and you’re disqualified.’
‘I know …’
‘That means every trip you take, not just on work time, but every time you go for a ride with your husband and kids, you’ll be on a kind of probation. You’ll be scared to death in case you get pulled over again. Be constantly worried about losing your job.’
Alex was well aware of this, but she couldn’t help wishing he’d get on with it. Okay, she’d crossed the line and would now have to pay the consequences, but she could have done without a lecture from someone who, by the sounds of him, wasn’t yet thirty.
‘Course, there’s one other possibility,’ he added.
‘There is?’ She tried not to sound too hopeful.
‘There are ways to pay your dues without having to cough up cash or speed points.’
‘I see …’ Alex’s heart sank. She immediately knew what he was implying. Somehow she could tell it from his body language, the way he was suddenly leaning towards her. She realised she ought to be outraged, but frankly she was just too weary. ‘And I wonder what those might be?’ she said.
‘No you don’t.’ His tone had softened, though there was still a degree of firmness there. ‘Worldly woman like you. Been here, there, everywhere. Who’s done it all … and probably more.’
She looked up at him, glimpsing a pale sickle of grinning teeth behind the torchlight. ‘Quite a charmer on the side, aren’t you?’
He shrugged. ‘I meet so many ladies in need of company. My heart bleeds for them. I just can’t help it … I always want to give them a second chance. Of course, some of them are too dumb even to take that. But it’s your choice.’ He reverted to ‘business mode’ with indecent speed. ‘The alternative is you go it your own way … and pay the price.’
‘And just out of interest,’ she said, ‘where were you planning to give me this second chance?’
He shone his torch past her into the back of the Corsa, but its rear seat was cluttered with boxes spilling leaflets, not to mention her suit jacket and the patent high heel shoes she’d worn for three toe-throbbing days on the conference stand. ‘Not much room back there.’ He grinned all the more. ‘Fortunately, there’s plenty in my car.’
‘So let’s get this absolutely clear,’ she said. ‘I mean, let’s not beat around the bush … though I suppose that’s what you’re planning to do?’
‘Well yeah, sort of.’ He chuckled, perhaps pleased to find that she was every bit the knowing lass he’d hoped for.
‘Just to be absolutely sure what kind of deal we’re making here … I get into that police car with you and let you have sex with me, and in return you don’t issue me with a speeding ticket? In fact, you forget this whole thing ever happened?’
‘That’s usually the plan.’
‘Usually? I see … so you make a habit of this?’
‘Helps pass the long, boring shifts.’
‘Okay … hmmm …’
‘One stipulation.’ He chuckled again; a hard, humourless sound. ‘You have to wear the high heels in the back there. I’m not interested if you’ve got those passion-killers on.’ He speared torchlight at her feet, which were currently clad in the tatty white sneakers she always wore for long-distance drives.
‘Well we can’t have you uninterested …’
‘And just in case you’re having trouble making your mind up …’ For the first time he shone the torch on to himself, revealing dark brows, a sharp, aquiline nose, green eyes, a lean, wolfish smile; no matinee idol, but somehow it worked. ‘This is what you’ll be getting.’
‘Cool,’ Alex replied. ‘And just so you know what you’ll be getting …’ She held up her Smartpen, the red light on the end of which revealed that it was on ‘record’. His grin collapsed like melting jelly; that alone was worth all the inconvenience he’d so far put her to. ‘Every single word of the conversation we’ve just had now exists for posterity!’
It was almost comical the way his mouth had sagged open, the way his eyes had half-glazed. He’d gone from man to goldfish in the space of a second.
‘So let’s me and you now make a new deal,’ Alex said, reverting to full on ‘Liverpool 8’. ‘You cocky little shit! You walk back to that fucking police car of yours. You don’t even look at me again, never mind say another word to me. And you drive away from here, and you keep on fucking driving for the rest of the night, and you never mention to anyone else, for any reason, that you caught me speeding. And maybe … maybe, I won’t feel the need to send a copy of this conversation to your superiors. PC …?’ She checked his epaulette. ‘PC 3841. So what do you say, eh?’
He mumbled something inarticulate.
‘I can’t fucking hear you!’
He mumbled something again. But now his expression was changing. A little of his youthful truculence was returning; but he was still pale-cheeked with shock, and that might not be a good thing. Not wanting him to do anything impulsive, Alex didn’t wait for his response. She switched on her ignition and threw the car into gear.
As she spun back out onto the blacktop, she glanced into her rear-view mirror. He was standing by the roadside, gazing after her, not – to her relief – dashing to his car to give pursuit, or putting his radio to his mouth to send a message ahead. It was difficult to imagine that any arrogant young pup like that, cop or otherwise, could be taught a lesson so easily. But she had him by the short and curlies – by Christ she did. She glanced again into her rear-view mirror. He was still on the roadside, now with hands on hips – still not following.
Did that mean she’d won?
Of course you’ve bloody won! What else would you call it?
A sense of exhilaration flooded through her. She laughed, but more with relief than glee. Despite the tough ‘Scouse girl’ persona, Alex’s heart had been thumping back there. She again glanced in the mirror. Thanks to a sweeping curve in the road, the cop and his car were no longer in sight. Meanwhile the country lane spooled out ahead, briefly straightening so that she could see at least as far along it as her headlights penetrated. It was early September, so everything was still in leaf. Bugs flitted across her path, bright blobs in the glare of her lights.
But where exactly was she going?
She still didn’t know. With her sat-nav on the blink, she realized that the only road