“The car’s incredible. Absolutely incredible. Drives like a dream.”
“Good, that’s great.”
“Actually, she’s due for a service. When can I bring her in?”
I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment and I’m unsure when I have an available day. “Call me tomorrow when I’ve got my calendar in front of me. You still got my number?”
“Yeah, sure. Talk tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” I tip my head in goodbye and turn to walk in the opposite direction, toward my car.
Stepping inside my home, I toe off my shoes and throw my keys in the bowl on the hall table. The house is pitch black and silent. Coming from the noisy pub, the quiet seems overwhelming. I don’t bother turning on any lights and make my way to the kitchen for a glass of water before heading to my room. Monday nights are probably the only nights I don’t spend working on my books. The reprieve is welcome as I strip off and fall into bed.