key in the ignition and the engine roared into life. As he pressed his foot on the accelerator it growled throatily. Through the windscreen Isobel could see the look of respect on the young men’s faces.
‘You seem very impatient.’ He glanced at her, his hands gripping the steering wheel. ‘I can’t see that it hurts for me to spend a bit of time with those guys.’
‘You won’t say that when your car is found burnt out on a piece of wasteland.’
‘And you accuse me of prejudice?’ He gave a dismissive snort.
Isobel glared at him. ‘Look, I’m not saying they are bad kids, but a flashy car like this is bound to be a target for joyriders. It’s like asking for trouble.’
‘Ah, so it’s my fault.’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘It’s important not to write people off because of their backgrounds, Isobel. I was young once. I remember what it was like.’
‘I wasn’t suggesting we wrote them off.’ How had she dug herself into this hole? ‘I happen to get on fine with my neighbours. But I doubt very much that you have anything in common with them.’
Orlando raised his eyebrows, as if he were about to say something, then clearly changed his mind, turning his eyes back to the front. ‘I’m just saying there’s no harm in treating young people with respect—giving them something to aspire to rather than assuming that the trappings of success will provoke jealousy or criminality.’
Well, that was her told. His sanctimonious conceit was almost enough to goad Isobel out of her terror. Almost. But as the car took off with a sudden burst of speed, its tyres screeching on the tarmac as Orlando spun it around in the opposite direction, Isobel could only shriek.
‘For God’s sake!’
Gripping the sides of her seat, she twisted round to look out of the rear window, convinced she’d see the bodies of her neighbours scattered in their wake. Instead she could just make out grinning faces, arms raised in gestures of respect.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
‘It’s what they expect of a car like this.’
They had slowed right down now, edging into the traffic of the main road. Isobel stared at his handsome, composed profile.
‘If you dangle a dream in front of someone you don’t want to disappoint them.’
Sinking down into the low leather seat, she willed her racing heart to steady. This was no dream...it was a nightmare.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
