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The night was going to be a cold one and Elizabeth doubted whether a shop doorway was an entirely wise place to spend it. She huddled closer to the glass fronting and hugged the child in her body. The pavement was icy but her eyes were hot and the faint prickle of tears touched her lashes.
A large black car cruised slowly past on the far side of the road. She watched it carefully, wary of its reduced speed. It passed by.
She buried her head into her knees, breathing open-mouthed to warm her hands. The car engine returned, on her side of the road. She was reluctant to look up and lose all of the warm places on her body, but the car stopped and the click of a door opening made her start.
The car was parked by the shop front, its engine softly rumbling. The passenger door was open and its interior was bathed in yellow light. She saw past the passenger seat to the driver. It was the blond man from the restaurant. He was staring straight ahead, past the bonnet and along the street. She rose stiffly, joints popping and he turned his head. She looked directly into his eyes, almost compelled to. He smiled.
“Have you no place to stay?” he asked. Again that calm tone, reassuring but suspiciously so.
“No.” she said, without further elaboration.
“It’s cold tonight.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, it is.”
“Get in, if you want.”
“Well, I…” she touched her pregnant bump again in that half-conscious gesture.
“It’ll do neither you or him any good to sleep here.”
“Him?” The stranger grinned.
“Or her.” He said. She smiled sheepishly as if his humour were infectious.
“Okay.” She slid into the passenger seat and nervously pulled the door shut. The engine gunned and the warm air blower began to erode the chill from her tattered trainers.
*
The streetlights sped past like queuing fireflies as the car wove through eh London traffic. The large blond man concentrated carefully on his driving, each motion smooth, each gear change seamless.
“You’d gone before I could thank you for the meal.” She said.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know what I would have done if…” she trailed off.
“Misfortune,” he said, “There’s no reason to apologise for bad luck.” There was silence between them for a moment.
“Where are we going?” She asked to fill the gap but the question made her realise how completely out of control of her situation she had become. This mysterious blond man might be considerably less than a knight on a white charger.
“I have a place you can stay,” he said. “A flat I sometimes use when I’m in London.”