Love to Hate You

Chapter Twenty-Two - Sealing the Deal

Rafe made Mattie take an advanced driving course. He said it was to "refresh" her driving skills, after so long without owning a car, but privately, he thought she needed to actually acquire some skills before she could enhance them. A ten lesson course turned into a twenty lesson course; Rafe claiming that driving in London was especially hazardous, and not at all like driving in Oxfordshire, where Mattie had taken her lessons as a learner driver. She assumed that Rafe's concern was on account of her only having one ovary (which must be protected at all costs), and didn't realise that Rafe secretly thought her the worst driver he had ever met. Still, even Rafe couldn't stall Mattie forever (no matter how many times she managed to stall her instructor's car), and so come the beginning of December – after nearly five months of advanced lessons – Rafe had to bite the bullet and give Mattie the keys to the car. Not his Land Rover, though. That was far too valuable – far too big.

'Here,' he said, holding out the keys to his lately-acquired Volvo V40. It was Mattie's – Rafe never drove it – and had been purchased solely because it scored the highest NCAP safety ratings that year. Rafe's Land Rover Discovery actually came in second place on the safety list, but it would cost more to fix if Mattie ruined it, so she had to make do with the smaller, bright red hatchback.

'I need to find somewhere to drive to, now,' Mattie said, smiling enthusiastically. In truth, she had very little need for a car, but if she ever moved out of London or had children, she thought she'd probably want to drive, so she was keen to take it up again. Rafe grimaced; he certainly didn't want Mattie driving about the heavy London traffic just for the sake of it.

'How about you drive down to Mum's on Sunday?' he said, without any enthusiasm.

'Alright,' she beamed, excitedly. He melted a little bit, then. He didn't like that she had that effect on him; it did his reputation as a tough, ruthless businessman no good, but he was smitten, and had been happier in the last four or so months he'd spent living with Mattie, than he had in his entire adult life.

'You know my mum's going to ask about Christmas again, don't you?' Rafe warned, because his mum had been asking if they would be spending Christmas day with her in Guilford, ever since the schools went back after the summer holidays.

'I know,' grimaced Mattie. 'And I want to say yes. I want her to see you – you having spent the last few years away in New York, and it being her first Christmas without your dad...' Mattie looped her small arm around Rafe's waist, in comfort. 'It's just that I've always gone to my dad's, and I'm worried that if he's on his own, he'll end up with one of his drinking buddies and just get into an awful state.'

'But doesn't that happen quite often anyway, Mattie?' Rafe asked; not unkindly.

'Yes,' she sighed, burying her head in his chest. 'I just wish that he wouldn't have to be on his own.'

'But he doesn't like me; he'd probably rather be on his own,' frowned Rafe.

And it was true, because Peter Johnston didn't like the man who'd encouraged his daughter to stand up to him; who had threatened him that day at her flat, right after he'd struck Mattie for the first time. And Rafe didn't like the drunkard father who bullied his daughter, and frittered away her earnings until she was on the brink of debt. Mattie would visit her father once a month, and Rafe had been sure to visit with her each time, not trusting Peter to behave himself.

Peter resented that; having that tall, brooding man glaring at him; great waves of disapproval coming from the younger man, who had quite clearly won his daughter's heart. Rafe and Peter never spoke to one another, but sat and glowered at each other with mutual dislike. Mattie pictured it; the three of them sat around the dining table, paper hats on their heads, faces like thunder; and that would be before anyone got the board games out!