Some of the cars in the museum were like tractors. Others were sleek and enormous, polished to a gleaming perfection. There were little information plaques about each vehicle, but after reading the first few, Eva gave up and allowed her mind to drift. Her thoughts turned to Ross and the row of cars that lined the front drive of the Campbells’ house. Of all the people she knew, he would get the biggest kick out of this museum. Her father was admiring the vintage cars with a restrained speculative air, but she knew that if Ross was here, he would loudly exclaim over each new vehicle, peppering her with facts like a nerdy but excited kid unable to contain his passion.

She paused in front of a 1913 Peugeot Type BB – a fire-engine red convertible with black leather interiors, spokes on the wheels. She snapped a picture of it with her iPhone, and then opened up messages, wracking her brain for something smart and cool to type. Attaching the picture of the Peugeot, she typed: Thinking of this for my first car. Does it get your approval?? then sent it quickly before she changed her mind.

Instantly, her cheeks flushed with colour at the thought of Ross’s phone lighting up with her message. It was a bold move on her part – unmistakably flirtatious. Risky too given how he had pushed her away. Weeks had passed since they had spoken. Her last lesson with him, he had seemed detached, and she’d wondered if he was distracted by the memory of her lunging at him in his car after he’d rescued her from the party. She couldn’t blame him for feeling uneasy. At the end of the lesson, when she was handing over the money, he’d said: ‘Well, I think that’s it, Eva. There’s not much more I can teach you,’ and she’d felt something plummeting within her – a horrible disappointment laced with panic. ‘Your best bet now is to get yourself insured on either your mum’s car or your dad’s and then get out there and practise,’ he’d told her. She’d stammered something about not feeling ready yet, but he’d waved her words away. ‘You’ll be grand,’ he’d said before getting out of the car.

She couldn’t blame him. Not after what had happened between them. Eva still found herself arrested by the vision of it returning to her again and again: that moment in his car when she had leaned in and kissed him. The awful confusion that followed as he pulled away from her, aghast. How deluded she must have seemed to him! How brazen! Even now, her embarrassment rose quickly to the surface bringing a rush of dampness under her arms, her heartbeat quickening.

Deep in her bag, she heard her phone ping and she hurriedly fumbled for it.

Sweet! I approve. Where r u?