‘Right, I’m good to go,’ she said.

He stood up and looked at her with wide eyes. ‘Wow, you look absolutely stunning.’

Jane smiled. It had been a long time since a man had said that to her. ‘You look very smart, too.’

‘Thank you. It’s the first time I’ve worn it.’

Jane locked her front door and turned to follow Nick to his car – then stopped in her tracks when she saw it.

‘Is this your car?’ she said, admiring the shining silver-grey convertible sports car, with its wire wheels and red leather interior.

He nodded. ‘It’s a 1961 Jaguar E-Type XKE and one of the first ever made. It was involved in a bad accident a few years ago and declared a write-off. I bought it for a song and made it roadworthy again.’

‘You rebuilt it?’ she said, amazed at the job he’d done on the car.

‘Yes. It’s kind of a hobby of mine. I’ve got a Ferrari that I’m working on just now.’

‘You must have a big garage.’

‘It’s a double garage, which I’ve turned into a workshop. I find tinkering away on cars relaxes me.’

‘How fast does it go?’

‘It’s capable of 150 miles an hour and does nought to sixty in 6.9 seconds,’ he said in a matter-of-fact way, holding the car keys out. ‘Would you like to drive it?’

She put her hand up. ‘No thanks. It’s way more powerful than my little Mini Cooper and I don’t want to damage it.’

He smiled. ‘You’ll be fine. It’s no different from driving any other car. Just relax and enjoy it.’

Jane removed her black velvet coat as Nick opened the driver’s door, then handed it to him. Sitting in the soft bucket-shaped driver’s seat, she savoured the rich earthy smell of the leather interior. Nick asked if she wanted to adjust the seat, but after placing her hands on the wood-trimmed steering wheel and feet on the pedals, she said it was fine.

‘It’s so comfortable, but strange to be sitting so low to the ground,’ she said, putting her lap belt on.

‘You get used to it.’

Jane turned the ignition, but nothing happened. She looked at Nick, wondering what was wrong.

‘You need to push that little black button in the middle of the dashboard.’

She tried again, and the engine burst into life with a loud growl from the twin exhausts, then settled into a softer rhythmic rumble. She put it into first gear, slowly let her foot off the clutch and lightly pressed the accelerator. As the car started to pull away, she saw Gerry coming down his driveway with Spud. He stopped to admire the car, and Jane gave him a wave from the driver’s seat.