Page 106 of Pansies

So Alfie accepted the fossilised dead bird. And it did at least numb his nose enough that he was able to wash away the blood and general mess without hurting himself too much. Once he was de-gored, he was relieved to discover he was basically fine. Probably he would be swollen and tender and bruised for a bit. But that was the extent of the damage.

He came back to the living room to find Fen in a pair of navy-blue sweatpants, which hung low enough to show the sleekness of his belly and the sharp jut of his hips. It was a nice look, but he felt kind of bad about it.

“Uh. I’m sorry I said… Did I… What happened to the purple thing?”

That made Fen laugh. “You can rest easy if you think I’d let your issues affect my style. The kimono’s in the washing machine because a teenager hocked over it.”

“Oh. Right.” Alfie was still in no way a fan of the kimono, but he was oddly relieved to know he wasn’t responsible for its absence. He slumped into the embrace of the sofa. “It’s really late, isn’t it?”

“Eleven or twelve, maybe?”

Alfie clenched and unclenched his hands. “Uh. D’you want to mebbe go for a drive?”

“What? Now?”

“Aye. I dunno…it clears my head sometimes.”

It seemed kind of a weird idea, now it was just hanging there. But to his surprise, after looking at him for what felt like a long time, Fen nodded. “If that’s what you want. Just let me go get a top.”

A few minutes later, Fen was tucked into a hoodie and they were back on the street, making their way to where Alfie hadparked the Sagaris. The keys were a reassuring weight in his hand. Something made him stop, though, before he unlocked the door.

“Do you want to drive?” he asked.

Fen squeaked. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Is this guilt? Because you called me a queeny part-timer?”

“No. I mean… I do feel guilty. But that’s not why I offered.” Actually, he wasn’t really sure why he’d offered. It should have been his idea of hell, surrendering control of his beloved car to someone else. “I just thought you might like to.”

“I really would. But are you sure you trust me? After what happened last time.”

“You going to do that again?”

“Of course not.”

“Then I trust you.”

Alfie handed over the keys, and they swapped sides. This time, it didn’t feel so bad, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Where shall we go?” Fen had to raise his voice over the leonine growl of the engine waking. “Round the block?”

At first Alfie didn’t answer. Then, “When I was a teenager, I used to head up the A1 towards Edinburgh. It’s really nice cos you’ve got the sea and stuff. Just promise to slow down when I tell you.”

“I promise.” Fen turned his head, met Alfie’s gaze directly. “I’ll never do that again.”

Alfie felt a tug at the corner of his mouth—a smile that happened all on its own. “Guess I believe you.”

And then they were off. True to his word, Fen drove carefully through the streets of South Shields and Jarrow. Guiding them into the glitter-streaky darkness of the Tyne Tunnel and out again, past North Shields, and finally onto the A19 heading north.2

The Sagaris wasn’t exactly easy to handle—she was all power, no control—but Fen was doing okay. It was kind of nice, watching him do that. Watching him grow his confidence. And then just…get it. The joy. Like nothing else on earth.

As he’d predicted, there wasn’t much traffic on the A1. It unfurled before them like a ghostly ribbon beneath the cloud-crumpled sky. The world became a strip of light. And the night swallowed everything they left behind.

“You can open her up a bit, if you like.” Alfie pulled out his phone and turned on Cyclops. “Just remember to slow down for the cameras.”

“I…I’m nervous. What if I kill us?”

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