The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 29 - Joy Ride

I jog down the alley steps, struggling to keep up with his long, purposeful strides. The car flashes and beeps invitingly at the end of the alleyway and I obligingly hop inside. Jeremy climbs into the driver's seat, starts the car and flips through the stations while the roof glides over our heads revealing a very clear, very starry sky. He settles on what sounds like an old alternative rock song. I don't think I've heard it before. He looks straight ahead onto the dark street and revs the engine loudly, almost as if to check that it's still there. The sound sends an electrifying flutter from my stomach to the tips of my fingers and toes.

"Where do you want to go?"

"I don't care," I answer truthfully.

He rewards me with his heart-shattering half-smile and a devilish gleam in his blue eyes that leaves me breathless. He releases the handbrake and off we go at a steady pace until he sees the main road. We stop a few meters away from the give-way, even though there isn't a car in sight. I look at him curiously but he doesn't notice. 

There is a strange expression on his face, a cross between determination and nostalgia. The corners of his mouth curl slightly. His hands are tight on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. Suddenly, his eyes catch fire, his round lips release a slow breath and he steps hard on the gas pedal.

The tires screech as the car takes off, fast and smooth. When we reach the crossing, he swiftly turns the wheel to the right and counter-steers to the left, manoeuvring the handbrake expertly. The car drifts in a wide arch, facing the wall on the side of the road. He turns the steering wheel to the right again and the car glides sideways across the tarmac. His face and eyes are focused as he brings the car to face the right way around and before I have time to breathe, it bolts forward as though we've been catapulted through space and time.

A loud scream escapes my lungs as we speed past the trees, closed shops and lampposts. I feel the wind blowing through my hair, my clothes, my face, dragging away with it every worry or fear or care I've been carrying around with me.

All the thoughts clogging up my brain lay scattered, forgotten somewhere three blocks behind us. Ecstatic, I lift my hands up in the air and start laughing, my hair and cardigan whooshing behind me like a cape. I turn around on the seat and see skid marks and smoke coming up from them. I turn excitedly to Jeremy, his face focused and calm, yet looking more alive than I've ever seen him and a bubble of pure happiness swells up inside me.

"Whoa!" I shout out into the night, my hands up in the air again as we accelerate through the tunnel, leaving Bormla behind us.

I hear his low, rumbling laugh as I sink back into the bucket seat. I don't know what I was expecting when I said I wanted to go for a drive but whatever it was, this is better. 

It feels like time has completely stopped, like there is nothing else in the world but us and the car. The wind and the stars. No time, no people, no hospitals, no disappointments. I close my eyes and let myself believe that this is true, even if just for one moment.

Jeremy starts humming next to me, his low baritone soothing my soul. Feeling the car slowing down, I open my eyes and find that we're at a large roundabout. I don't recognize the place, but I don't really care. We get onto another bypass and we're off again, flying at God knows how many kilometres per hour, the wheels not even touching the ground. Finally, we take a sharp turn to the right, tires screeching all the way, and Jeremy guides the Porsche into a parking area.

He drives past a lone, colourful kiosk and a few cars that are parked haphazardly over the gravel until we reach a relatively deserted area where Jeremy parks the Porsche facing a hedge of wild bushes. It's very dark and the bushes go up higher than my head as I sit in the low seat but I can hear and smell the sea.