2.30 am

 

“Grace, do you know where you’re going?” George asked, as they came to the same junction again.

 

“It all looks different in the dark,” she replied, sheepishly, “But it’s just up here, now. It’s not too far.”

 

George looked at her sideways but moved the car forward in the direction she indicated. He yawned. They had been travelling around St. John’s Wood for nearly half an hour, and mostly in loops back to the studio. “Who are you staying with?” he asked.

 

“What?”

 

“Didn’t you say before you were staying with someone?”

 

“Oh, yes. My, er… my boyfriend. You can stop here if you like, I can walk the rest of the way.”

 

“Where’s he tonight then?”

 

“At home, I should imagine.”

 

“Won’t he be worried about you?”

 

“It’s just here, George, honestly. I can walk the rest.”

 

George slowed, “I’d rather take you to the door,” he said, “See you safe.”

 

“There’s really no need.” Grace turned her head away, looking through her window.

 

George bit his bottom lip thoughtfully, “Am I missing something here?” he said cautiously.

 

“What?” Grace said, turning back to him, “Oh, stop. Here, this is it.”

 

George pulled over outside of a tall Victorian building. He looked up at it. “Very nice.”

 

Grace sat still. George unclipped his seatbelt.

 

“Do you really live here?” he said, crossing his arms.

 

“Yes. Well, he does.”

 

“Your fella?”

 

“Roger, yes.”

 

“Aren’t you going in then?”

 

Grace suddenly threw her hands up and covered her face. George blinked in surprise and gingerly reached out, touching her wrist with his fingertips. “What is it, love?” he asked softly.

 

“Oh, nothing. I’m just being silly,” Grace took her face out of her hands and reached in her pocket for a handkerchief. “We had a quarrel,” she told George, dabbing her eyes.

 

George nodded, “Ah.”

 

“I ran out. That’s why I was walking around alone when I met you.”

 

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be very worried about you,” George said tactfully, “If you go in now…”

 

“And you would know, would you?” Grace snapped back at him, then regaining her composure, she put her hand out to him apologetically, “Oh, I’m sorry, George. I didn’t mean that. You’ve been nothing but kind to me. It’s just so… so upsetting.”

 

“These things are,” George replied, trying his hardest to sound sympathetic, although his tiredness meant his patience was wearing thin.

 

“I can’t go back in there tonight. I just simply can’t.”

 

George sighed, “Is there somewhere else I can take you?”

 

“No, there’s nowhere.”

 

“Haven’t you got a friend who can put you up for the night?”

 

“No,” Grace said, sadly shaking her head, “I haven’t any friends here. I’ve only just moved back to Britain from Kenya.”

 

George leaned his elbow on his door, “Well, I can’t just leave you here to wander the streets.”

 

“I’ll find a hotel.”

 

“At what? Quarter to three? Have you got any money?”

 

“No…”

 

George pulled his seatbelt around him and leaning forward, started the car. “You can stay over at our house then,” he said, pulling off.

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Grace said dubiously.

 

George glanced at her, “It’s alright. It’s nothing fishy. I live with my girlfriend, Pattie. She’ll be there. You can stay in the spare room.”

 

“Where do you live?”

 

“Esher. It’s not far.”

 

“Won’t she object? Your girlfriend?”

 

George shook his head, “Nah, we have people staying all the time. Besides, she’ll be asleep, she won’t know.”

 

“George, I…” She considered it for a moment, “Do I have a choice?”

 

“Not really,” George said, changing into fourth gear.

 

Grace smiled, “Thank you.”