Katie Fforde - Wedding Season

Elsa was only insulted for a second or two before she replied. 'Half a glass of champagne when we arrived. No alcohol since. And I've eaten a huge plate of bceuf bourguignon.'

‘You're not telling me you're going to let some girl drive the Morgan!' exclaimed one of the other men, aghast.

Laurence gave him a look which indicated he'd rather some girl drove it than him, and the man looked away. 'It's insured for anyone over the age of twenty-five with my permission. How old are you, Elsa?’

She smiled sarcastically. 'Over twenty-five, thanks for asking.'

‘Seriously, Lau, you wouldn't let a girl you hardly know drive your car!' Natasha was stunned. She shot Elsa an apologetic glance. 'I mean, I know you two haven't known…' She tailed off. 'We could get someone else to do it, if it's insured. Not everyone here is drunk, for goodness' sake!'

‘I'd rather have Elsa.' Laurence looked intently at her, and she felt herself blush.

‘Are you sure?' she asked.

For a moment it felt as if there was no one else in the room. He nodded. 'I trust you.' He fumbled in his pocket and produced the keys.

When Laurence and Jamie had gone off to A and E in Jamie's car, Maggie and Elsa walked over the gravel to the Morgan. Elsa didn't think she should mention to anyone that she hadn't driven for quite a long time. She didn't want to add to Laurence's anxiety and she was too touched and thrilled by what Laurence had said to want to spoil it. Besides, she felt supremely calm. Her only worry was being able to find her way home after she'd taken Maggie and the babysitter back. But if she got lost, she'd do what she'd always done, ever since she first passed her test -she'd ring her father and get directions. He was guaranteed to know the way to anywhere from anywhere. The fact that it was quite late by now didn't bother her. That's what dads were for.

Maggie was unaware of Elsa's inexperience. She talked all the way to her house, either not noticing, or not commenting on any difficulties Elsa might have with driving a completely strange car in the dark. Once Elsa had found the lights and they'd both got their seatbelts on, she chattered away about how irresponsible her husband could be, how she really must learn to drive, and what a fabulous party it had been.

Elsa didn't speak. She just concentrated on getting them both to Maggie's house safely. She wasn't looking forward to driving back home alone, but she had her mobile close to her. Luckily the babysitter's boyfriend came and collected her.

It was only after she'd parked Laurence's precious Morgan safely outside her house that she started to shake. After she'd made sure for the hundredth time she'd locked it she went in, laughing at how she'd been so calm and now her palms were sweating and she was shaking as if from shock.

‘This is so silly!' she told herself, trying to be firm. 'Nothing bad has happened – you don't have to panic now! What sort of a woman are you?’

She knew what sort of a woman she was, really. She was shy and previously lacking in self-confidence. But recently things had changed. She felt more confident about her work as a dressmaker, had survived performing in public and had been quietly efficient in an emergency. Sadly, her body seemed to think she was still a wimp. She decided she needed hot chocolate. She put the champagne in the fridge and took her shoes off.

She was on her third digestive biscuit when her mobile went. It was Laurence.

‘Everything all right?' he asked casually.

Elsa was not fooled. 'Fine. Did you get Jamie sorted OK?'

‘Oh yes. There wasn't much of a queue for once. We got him stitched up and I've just driven him home.' He paused. 'Elsa, would you mind very much if I came and got the car now? Maggie will have their car picked up from yours in the morning.’

She smiled. 'That's fine. I haven't gone to bed yet.' Her heart fluttered once more. He was coming to collect his precious car of course but she would have to invite him in; he'd been a hero tonight, her hero, and she remembered their almost-kiss.

‘Are you still wearing your lovely dress?' He broke into her thoughts.

‘No. I changed into my dressing gown. But I'm quite decent.' She tried to sound casual.

He laughed. 'I love the thought of you driving through the night in my car, looking like a Georgette Heyer heroine!’

She flew into her bedroom. Decent she might have been but her hair was currently a disintegrating bird's nest of hair lacquer and pins – not a good look. She'd taken off the false bun but had just left the rest, planning to take it out in the morning when she could wash out the spray. But she didn't want Laurence drinking hot chocolate across her kitchen table looking at her in such a state. If he was going to see her dishevelled she wanted it to be for the right reasons!

She'd got the worst of the lacquer out by giving her hair a good brush when she heard him arrive. She went downstairs and let him in.

He was deeply apologetic. 'I'm so sorry to be so neurotic. I love my car!’

Elsa laughed indulgently. 'I think I picked that up. Do you want to come in and have some hot chocolate? I've just had some. It's very soothing.'

‘Sounds terrific.' He paused. 'But would you think I was frightfully anal if I looked over the car first?'

‘Yes. But I understand. We're all allowed to be anal sometimes. I'll put the milk on. Close the bottom door behind you when you come up and I'll leave the flat door open.’

While Laurence was being anal about his car, Elsa went back to the bathroom to carry on brushing. She felt ridiculously excited. She'd had a wonderful evening. She liked Laurence tremendously. Would he make a move again? she wondered, and really hoped so. She gave her teeth a quick brush but didn't allow herself to put on lipstick. That would look a bit desperate with her dressing gown.

‘You look different,' he said, a little while later, looking at her over the top of his mug. 'I don't mean because you're not dressed up any more. There's something else.’

Elsa looked down. She was fairly sure it was the leftover make-up that still smudged her eyes and the way that all those products that Bron had put on it gave her hair a bit more body than usual.

‘Maybe it's the satisfaction of having driven your car safely back,' she said, looking back up at him and smiling.

‘There isn't a mark on it – or at least, not one that wasn't there before.'

‘It was incredibly trusting of you to let me drive it. Now I can tell you that I hadn't driven for ages. I was dreadfully nervous.’

Retrospective horror passed over his face. 'But you felt OK once you were on the way?'

‘Yes, actually. I had Maggie for support and there was no traffic to speak of. I actually quite enjoyed my journey back here. It was only when I got home that I went into shock.’

He shook his head slightly. 'I would never have put you through that if I'd known.’

She bit her lip, suppressing a smile and regarded him with her head on one side. 'That's the second time you've said that to me this evening.' He looked a bit blank. 'The costume competition? That involved having to do a Viennese waltz on our own?’

He smiled. 'You were superb, and you certainly deserved to win the competition. Who will you take for your weekend away, or shouldn't I ask?'

‘You certainly shouldn't ask. Have another biscuit.' She reached for the tin and passed it to him, fervently hoping he wouldn't see her blushing.

He looked around her workroom, admiring all her handiwork as he gave her a detailed account of an A and E department on a Saturday night. She was about to suggest making some more hot chocolate when she saw him yawn. 'Have you far to go tonight?' She almost whispered the words.

The charge she'd felt when he nearly kissed her before couldn't have been only one way, could it? It seemed so strong. And much as she knew he adored his car, he hadn't really needed to come in for a hot chocolate. But she didn't want to make a fool of herself by being too forward. She suddenly felt rather shy.