James sat back on the bike’s seat. He could feel the purr of the engine beneath his legs. He felt he was completely in control of the machine. It made him feel like the man he had longed to be for some time, especially now that he had Madge hanging on his every word and giving him her complete attention, unlike Isabelle. His life was beginning to be more bearable.

He smiled to himself as he let out the bike’s throttle to climb the steep hill – called Buckhaw Brow – outside the village of Giggleswick and then cut off along the rutted road to the small hamlet of Feizor. He couldn’t wait to hear what Madge had to say, once she saw him on his motorcycle. He knew her reaction would be different from that of Isabelle, who had moaned about what it had cost and the fact that she had no intention of ever being seen on the thing. He made his way across the small ford that ran through the hamlet of Feizor and hoped that the motorcycle wouldn’t splutter and fail as he came out the other side and drove it over the limestone roadway to the cottage where Madge lived.

‘Oh, my Lord! you’ve gone and got one of those contraptions,’ Madge squealed as she opened the door, wondering what the noise was outside her quiet home. ‘You’ve come to see me on it. Everyone will be talking!’ She giggled and screamed as she looked at her lover, whilst he took his goggles off and brushed back his greying hair. She gasped as she gazed at the bike in amazement, and then kissed James on the cheek. ‘I’ve got to have a go on it, you’ve got to give me a ride!’ she shouted as she walked around the bike, looking at every inch of it.

‘I don’t know, Madge. I’m only just learning to handle it myself. Besides, it’s not very ladylike. You’d have to pull your skirts up and sit in tight next to me. What if someone sees you?’ James looked shocked.

‘I don’t care, I’ve got to have a go.’ Madge hoisted her skirts up and sat sharply on the small leather seat, holding James close to her on the back of the bike.

‘Mind your legs – the exhaust is hot, it will burn them. Tuck your skirts in tight, I don’t want them catching in the chain. I don’t think we should do this, Madge.’ James breathed in deeply – he didn’t want her to think he was not man enough to be seen with her behind him – and decided to kick-start his bike with her still on it. The closeness of her body to his made him forget his fears and he shouted above the roar of the engine, ‘Hold on tight and remember, mind your skirts.’