Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 10.

Stella led me out to the driveway, Simon was loading my broken bicycle into his boot. "Cor this is light isn't it?" he remarked about my bike, "carbon fibre, I suppose."

I nodded my response and smiled, let him think me stupid and himself clever, because if we get into the finer points of bike construction, I might give myself away. I saw my battered Mavic rear wheel, still with flailing spokes, as he shut down the boot lid. It had taken me a week to build those wheels, and seconds for Stella to destroy one of them.

"Nice bit of kit, do you race?" Simon turned towards me wiping his hands of any oil or water from my precious velocipede.

"Occasionally, sometimes I ride with the university club and mostly I ride on my own. It helps me to think as well as keep me fit."

"It certainly does wonders for your figure, maybe I should try it," Simon tapped his belly. He actually looked in good shape, so I think he was making small talk, or worse starting a chat up.

I looked at him, he was quite good looking, his dark curly hair drooped over his one eyebrow after he'd bent to stow my bike. Were I looking to be chatted up, I could do worse. Then I realised what I was thinking to myself, my God, what was happening to me?

"It's unlocked," he said before he got in the driver's seat. Stella, got in behind him. I walked around the back of the car and opened the passenger door to sit beside Stella in the back and was told to go and sit in the front with Simon.

I took a deep breath and got in the front, smoothing my skirt as I sat on the plush leather upholstered seats. I pulled on the seat belt and sat as close to the door as the seat and belt would allow me to.

"I don't bite," smiled Simon and recollections of my thoughts of them as cannibals came flooding back. I smiled back at him, but stayed where I was. He sighed and started the car.

I can drive but don't have a car, they cost too much money to buy and run, instead I choose to use bikes - a MTB for running about the campus or town on, and my thoroughbred, presently lame and lying in the boot of the car. The car was an automatic, I've only driven one of those once, it half frightened me to death, I kept stepping on the brake with my left foot.

Simon, reversed out of the driveway and eased the car into drive and off we went. The purring of the engine was barely noticeable and the coldness of the leather was becoming warm under my bum. "Nice car," I said and smiled at the driver.

"Yeah, a change from Beamers, I'm quite pleased with it."

Generally speaking BMW drivers, along with several other high performance makes such as Audi plus the Chelsea tractors*, are not viewed by most cyclists as friendly. My own experience would bear that out, having nearly come to grief at the hands of an Audi driver only last week. Somehow they expect you to disappear or get out of their way, so they can continue on their self-absorbed journeys. Our usual term for such morons rhymes with anchor!

So Simon was a reformed BMW driver, I wasn't sure if that boded well or badly for him, because Volvos can be just as badly driven, especially the old estate versions which handled like tanks.

Again I had to stop and tell myself off, what am I thinking. I might be a girl inside, but at the moment under all these feminine items and make up, is a bloke with tits. I shook my head at my own folly.

Simon saw me and asked me what I was thinking. I blushed and lied, "I'm wondering how I'm going to get my bike repaired."

"Look I pass a bike shop on my way to the office each day, why not leave it with me and I'll get it sorted for you?" He beamed a smile at me, unfortunately, this wasn't really what I wanted to hear. The sixteen pounds of alloy and carbon fibre lodged in his boot was my baby, I wasn't at all sure that I wanted someone else messing with it. But how do you tell that to someone who thinks they are doing you a favour? Or was it his sister he was protecting?

"No it's okay," I said, "there's a shop not far from my place, I'll get him to check it out. But thanks anyway."

"I insist," said Simon, "after all we caused the problem."

Why do men always want to argue? "Please," I said looking him sraight in the eye, "but I'd prefer to have it go to someone I trust."

"So you don't trust me?" he said looking hurt.

"Not if she's got any sense," came from the back seat.

"Pipe down Stell, this is none of your business." He scowled at her and she poked out her tongue back at him. Now I was sure they were siblings. "You have lovely green eyes," he said to me and I nearly choked.

"What's that got to do with her bicycle?" Stella called from behind.

"Never take your sister with you on a date," he said smiling at me then snarling at her.

"I wasn't aware we were on a date," I said feeling very worried, "we've only just met."

Simon looked out the front of the car and went very red, Stella laughed loudly on the back seat, "She's got you there Si, ha ha."

"I didn't mean it like that," blustered Simon, but neither of us believed him. "It's just a figure of speech." He was still red in the face.

"Figment of your imagination, you mean," called his sister.

I was beginning to feel a bit concerned at their antics and also what would happen if he managed to drop Stella off before he took me home. I would have to stay alert to all possibilities and stay one jump ahead. In fact, I had decided to ask Stella to stay with me until he took me home, that way I should be safe, or at least safer. This was all new to me and I felt a bit out of my depth.

Anyone appearing to fancy me was a new experience, as a girl being fancied by a man was almost too much, my senses were in danger of overload processing all this new info. It was all right for Stella to laugh, she was safe from this predatory male plus she had her whole life experience to fall back on. I had about two hours.

(* Chelsea tractor a pejorative term for 4x4).