‘Likewise.’

George grinned. ‘Do not believe a word this blackguard tells you.’

Marion felt an unaccustomed shyness in this obviously male environment. She didn’t know one end of a car from another, so when George asked, ‘Shall I show you around?’ she agreed with over-enthusiasm.

‘That would be wonderful.’

Mr Bailey rubbed his hands together as his eyes travelled the length of her. She swallowed hard and turned her eyes to the showroom windows and the outside beyond. Supposing one of her parent’s friends saw her here, alone with two men – what would they think?

‘Marion?’ asked George, angling his arm towards the biggest car there. ‘Can I interest you in the elegant and noble Nine Monaco Riley in oxblood? Four doors and a top that folds back for those leisure breaks in the South of France?’ He opened the driver’s door. ‘Hop in and get a feel for the old girl.’

‘George, I don’t drive.’

‘Then this is your chance to get behind the wheel.’

She shook her head. ‘You’re not expecting me to try and drive it now, are you?’

Mr Bailey playfully scolded George. ‘Don’t tease her, old boy.’ He shook his head and tutted, before turning back to Marion. ‘Maybe the Riley is a bit too much to start with – how about I show you a smaller vehicle. Perfect for a woman?’

Marion saw Mr Bailey smirk at George. She had an awkward feeling that they were both laughing at her and wanted suddenly to leave.

She checked her watch. ‘Oh dear, look at the time. I must be getting back. I’m so pleased to have met you, Mr Bailey.’

‘Christopher, please.’ He held his horrible hand out to her once more and she shook it quickly. ‘George and I go back a long way.’ He hesitated. ‘I was hoping we could talk a little more, get to know each other a bit better, over a tray of tea?’

Marion declined quickly. She didn’t like Mr Bailey. His pale piggy eyes below his bright red hair were too close and his mobile lips, when he licked them, made her uncomfortable. ‘No, really. I’m so sorry to have to go. George, would you mind?’

She checked to make sure George didn’t signal a raised eyebrow or a wink to Mr Bailey, but instead he appeared to understand her need to leave. ‘Of course, my dear. Goodbye, Christopher.’

Marion was unsettled on the journey home. She was certain that Mr Bailey was not a friend of George’s she’d like to meet again.

George was completely unaware and was whistling a cheery tune as he drove.

He glanced over to Marion, who was trying not to look or sound as brittle as she felt. ‘What did you think of old Bailey then?’

She crossed her hands on her lap. ‘Oh, you know …’ she said with a vague smile.

‘He’s been a very good friend to me.’

‘That’s good.’

‘He helped me through some very difficult times. I haven’t told you this before but I was …’ He took his right hand off the wheel and rubbed it over his face. ‘I was married before.’