He nodded. ‘It’s a 1961 Jaguar E-Type XKE and one of the first ever made. It was involved in a bad accident a few years ago and declared a write-off. I bought it for a song and made it roadworthy again.’
‘You rebuilt it?’ she said, amazed at the job he’d done on the car.
‘Yes. It’s kind of a hobby of mine. I’ve got a Ferrari that I’m working on just now.’
‘You must have a big garage.’
‘It’s a double garage, which I’ve turned into a workshop. I find tinkering away on cars relaxes me.’
‘How fast does it go?’
‘It’s capable of 150 miles an hour and does nought to sixty in 6.9 seconds,’ he said in a matter-of-fact way, holding the car keys out. ‘Would you like to drive it?’
She put her hand up. ‘No thanks. It’s way more powerful than my little Mini Cooper and I don’t want to damage it.’
He smiled. ‘You’ll be fine. It’s no different from driving any other car. Just relax and enjoy it.’
Jane removed her black velvet coat as Nick opened the driver’s door, then handed it to him. Sitting in the soft bucket-shaped driver’s seat, she savoured the rich earthy smell of the leather interior. Nick asked if she wanted to adjust the seat, but after placing her hands on the wood-trimmed steering wheel and feet on the pedals, she said it was fine.
‘It’s so comfortable, but strange to be sitting so low to the ground,’ she said, putting her lap belt on.
‘You get used to it.’
Jane turned the ignition, but nothing happened. She looked at Nick, wondering what was wrong.
‘You need to push that little black button in the middle of the dashboard.’
She tried again, and the engine burst into life with a loud growl from the twin exhausts, then settled into a softer rhythmic rumble. She put it into first gear, slowly let her foot off the clutch and lightly pressed the accelerator. As the car started to pull away, she saw Gerry coming down his driveway with Spud. He stopped to admire the car, and Jane gave him a wave from the driver’s seat.
Nick directed Jane to Locksbottom, which was only four miles away. She wished it had been a longer journey as driving the Jaguar was such a thrill. As she drove into the car park, Jane thought the large mock Tudor building in front of her was someone’s house, until she noticed FANTAIL written above the entrance doors in large black lettering on a white background.
‘Thanks for letting me drive your car. I felt like I was in a James Bond film,’ she said with a beaming smile.
‘You’re a good driver,’ he said.
‘I had to pass a five-week course before I could drive a police car,’ she told him.
‘Well, they obviously taught you well. The pub’s just over the road... or we can go straight to the restaurant.’
‘A drink in the pub would be nice,’ Jane said.
They crossed the road to the pub, The Olde White Lion.
Jane thought the interior had a warm, welcoming feel about it, with its old oak beams and a roaring log fire. There was a dancing area and stage at the back where a band was setting up its equipment.
‘What can I get you, Nick?’ the buxom middle-aged lady behind the bar asked him. He looked at Jane.
‘G and T with ice and lemon, please.’
‘Your usual, Nick?’
‘Yes please, Sandra.’
‘Bottle of Grolsch lager and one G and T with all the trimmings coming up,’ she said. They sat down at the bar.
‘I take it you’ve been here before?’ Jane whispered to him.
‘It’s my local. Sandra’s the landlady.’
‘You should have said. I’d I have driven over here to save you picking me up.’
‘You’re only down the road, so it wasn’t out my way. Are you OK getting a taxi home if I have a drink?’
‘Of course, as long as you let me pay for it,’ she replied, suspecting he would offer to.
Sandra brought them their drinks and they clinked glasses.
‘You’ve got a nice house,’ Nick said.
Jane sighed. ‘It needs a lot of work doing on it, which I can’t afford at the moment.’
‘You don’t need to spend a fortune to make a house look nice. It all depends on what you want and how you do it.’
‘To be honest, I haven’t a clue about what to do with it,’ Jane admitted.
‘I could draw up some different plans for you. Let me have a look round, give you a few ideas and see what you think. I can get materials for half the price that some traders would charge you.’
‘Are you sure? I’d pay you, of course.’
‘We can discuss that later. I could have a look tomorrow if you like.’
Jane remembered Sam Pullen was picking her up at midday.
‘I’m out for lunch tomorrow, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh, right. Well, maybe some other time then,’ he said.
From the disappointed look on his face, Jane thought he assumed it was with another man. ‘It’s with a friend, but I’m not meeting her until midday.’
He perked up. ‘I could come round at ten. It would only take me an hour to look round your house.’
‘Ten it is, then,’ Jane said with a smile.
‘Would you like another drink?’ Nick asked.
Jane looked at her watch. ‘It’s seven thirty. Should we go over to the restaurant?’
‘It’s OK if we’re a bit late. They’ll hold the table for me.’
‘In that case, I’ll have another G and T.’
‘Same again, please, Sandra.’
‘I’m paying for this round... whether you like it or not,’ Jane said, opening her handbag and removing her purse.
‘I don’t, but I won’t argue. Where did you live before Chislehurst?’
‘Marylebone, in a tiny flat. I was on an investigation which led to me making inquiries in Kent. I really liked the area and wanted to live and work somewhere quieter so I could study for the inspectors’ exam.’
‘You could have got a bigger place for the same price if you’d moved a bit further out,’ he said.
‘I know. But as a Met police officer I get a housing allowance which helps towards my mortgage. But to get it, you have to live within a fifteen-mile radius of Trafalgar Square. Chislehurst is just on the edge of it.’
He nodded. ‘On the plus side, a house in an area like Chislehurst is a good investment. If you do it up a bit you could easily make a five or six grand profit on it in no time.’
Nick put his half-full glass on the counter. ‘Shall we head over to the restaurant?’
‘Yes. I just need to pop to the ladies.’
As Jane stood in front of the mirror checking her makeup and hair, she was pleased that Nick hadn’t mentioned the investigation. So far, she was just enjoying herself.
Sandra walked in.
‘All right, love?’
‘Yes, thanks,’ Jane smiled. ‘You’ve got a really nice pub.’
‘Glad you like it. It’s been hard work running it since my husband buggered off with one of the barmaids. Mind you, I’m better off without the arsehole. Is Nick taking you for dinner at the Fantail?’
‘Yes. I’m looking forward to it. I’ve been told it’s really fancy.’
‘Best outside of Central London, though its prices are about the same. You and Nick been dating long?’ she asked.
‘We’ve just met, literally two days ago,’ Jane replied coolly, thinking it was none of Sandra’s business.
‘Well, don’t you go leading him up the garden path. He’s one of the best is Nick. He doesn’t need more heartbreak in his life.’
‘Is there something I should know?’ Jane asked.
Sandra sighed. ‘Sorry if it seems like I’m intruding, love, but...’
‘My name is Jane,’ she interrupted.
‘I’ve known Nick for years, Jane. You could say I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for him — in a maternal way, that is. He got married about a year and a half ago, then two weeks later his missus ran off with his best man. Turned out they’d being having an affair for a long time, but the bitch didn’t have the guts to tell him.’