Page 10 of A Very Happy Easter

Heath drove a Honda, nothing flashy, but it was clean inside. I usually had a driver. Not because I disliked driving myself—the opposite was true—more because parking in London was a nightmare. I messaged Salma and then settled in for the ride. Jazzi’s phone was two and a half hours away, so we’d arrive close to midnight.

“This feels like Thelma & Louise,” I said as we travelled along the A303. Neither of us had talked much for the first half hour of the journey, but the silence wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. I liked the fact that Heath didn’t find it necessary to fill the time with inane small talk.

“I’m not planning to drive into the Grand Canyon, if that’s what you’re suggesting. Also, I only wear drag on Sundays.”

My head whipped around. “What?” Heath’s lips were twitching. “Is that a joke?”

“Yeah, Edie, it’s a joke. Lace panties chafe my balls.”

“Oh my— That’s another joke, right? You’re such a dick.”

“Right now, I’m a dick who needs coffee, so speak up if you see a service station.”

I bought the coffee—strong and black for Heath, sweet and frothy for me. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done something unplanned like this. Salma had freaked out until I told her I was with Heath, and then she’d just sent me a whole row of question marks and a scream emoji. What was that supposed to mean?

“So, I heard you were in the Army?” I tried. A little silence was a blessing. Too much left me twitchy.

“I was, for nine years.”

“Nine years? Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t think you were that old.”

Janie had described him as Liam and Serena’s “little” brother, and Liam had turned twenty-seven not so long ago. I hadn’t been able to make the party, but I distinctly remembered signing the card Salma had bought. Or maybe they’d been talking about Heath’s size? He was a couple of inches shorter than Liam, and wiry rather than muscular.

“I’m twenty-six. And I wasn’t much good in school. Anyhow, I figured I might as well get the shit kicked out of me in the Army as be a punchbag in the corridors of Fairoaks Grammar, so I didn’t hang around for sixth form.”

“You must have been academically capable if you went to grammar school.”

“Apparently, I asked too many questions.”

“Isn’t that normally a plus point?”

“Not when the questions were ‘Why did our physics teacher only get a D in A-level physics?’ and ‘Why can’t the girls wear trousers in winter?’”

“Ah.” Heath was a rebel. “So, did you get the shit kicked out of you in the Army?”

He gave a hollow laugh. “Yeah, but in a different way.”

“For nine years? You couldn’t leave any sooner?”

“Most of the time, I enjoyed the challenge, but in the end…” Heath shook his head slowly. “It was time to get out. I’d have had to serve another fifteen years to qualify for a pension, and mine wasn’t a job where you could just go through the motions. Figured it was better to transition sooner rather than later. I don’t regret it. I don’t regret my time in the military either.”

“So, Blackwood?”

“Exactly. They’re not like most of the other security companies. They hire based on what they think you’ll be capable of someday in the future, not only at the present moment, and they invest in you to get there.” Another laugh. “Kind of like the Army, except with less sand.”

“You spent time in the desert?”

“There’s a lot to be said for a good rainstorm.”

“Unless you’re outside on a golf course.”

“Do you play golf?”

“Not voluntarily. But occasionally, I get talked into playing very badly, usually for charity. I got soaked last month, which was a great excuse to retire to the clubhouse. Some fools kept playing, though. Then the lightning started, and I’ve never in my life seen a bunch of middle-aged men run so fast.”

Heath snorted and took a sip of coffee. “Must’ve been a sight.”

“One guy panicked and beached his golf cart in a bunker.”

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