Lost Without You Here A fun romance

Dan might seem totally clueless, but she needed him if they were to get anywhere!

Sarah was definitely not thinking of Andy, her ex, when the car made the sort of noise – somewhere between a grinding cough and a spluttering chug – that is usually associated with bad news. The last time she’d visited these parts had been with him. Her stomach was in knots with the effort involved to think of something – anything – else.

Dan was no help. He’d hardly spoken, except to comment on the route or work.

Dan steered to the side of the road and they rolled to a stop with a juddering wheeze that sounded somewhat final. “Ah,” he said. “What do you mean, ‘ah’?” Sarah didn’t know much about the internal workings of an automobile, but she knew enough to know they weren’t supposed to make that sort of death-rattle.

“Hold on.” Dan gave the ignition key a twist. The car cleared its throat. “Ah,” he said again. “Will you stop saying Ah?” “Sorry.” “Have we broken down? I knew we should have brought mine.” Her newish car, rather than his oldish car. “I did suggest it, but you were adamant you’d get travel sick if you’re weren’t driving.”

“Technically, I don’t think we have broken down.” “So what’s wrong then?” “I think we’ve run out of petrol.” “No, be serious.” “I am being serious.” “You mean it? You’ve actually run out of petrol? As in, no petrol in the tank?”

“Yup. I think so.” Dan looked mortified. “Hhmm, awkward.”

Sarah gazed at the surrounding hedges and fields and rolling countryside. A red Astra zoomed past in the opposite direction, almost mockingly.

They were driving up to meet a client in the Peak District. Company business. They weren’t far away, having travelled deep into the beautiful scenery. Dan would normally have gone on his own to sort it out, but the boss said Sarah, being new and inexperienced, should tag along.

Sarah might have been new to the company, but she had eleven years at her previous job. She’d fancied a change though – new horizons, better prospects, less chance of bumping into Andy, who only worked two floors down.

But it was a trip out on a lovely day, so she was hardly going to refuse. Even if it was with geeky Dan.

“How have you managed to run out of petrol? Don’t you check the gauge?”

“No. It doesn’t work.” He tapped it. “Stuck at full, see.” He was right. It was. “I have a system,” he said. “I do around two hundred and eighty miles and then I fill up with thirty litres of petrol. Thirty litres is roughly six and a half gallons and at around forty-two miles per gallon, I can do two hundred and eighty miles. Of course the price of petrol does enter the equation, along with the actual rate at which I use it.”

Dan seemed to say a lot of things like that. She wondered if he was borderline Asperger’s. Numbers were his thing, apparently.

“But as a rough calculation,” he said, “it’s worked reasonably well.” “Until today.” “Until today.” He looked up, internally calculating. “I suppose even a three or four percent error will only take twentyfive to thirty fill-ups to empty the tank.”

Sarah had not the foggiest what he was talking about, but could easily see a better approach to the faulty gauge. “Why don’t you brim it off?” “Eh?” He frowned. “You know, fill up the tank until the nozzle cuts off.”

Dan shook his head. “I’m not doing that again. Doesn’t always cut off. Ruined a perfectly good pair of shoes once.” Then Sarah had an even better idea. “Or you could get the gauge fixed.”

She had been WONDERING if she had UPSET him. He’d been QUIET

“Yes.” He finally managed a smile. Possibly the first of the entire journey. She had been wondering if she’d upset him somehow. He’d been, not quite withdrawn, but a little… quiet. Although Dan did appear naturally quiet anyway.

“That’s probably not a bad suggestion,” he said. “Right then. What now?”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare can of petrol in the boot.” He shook his head. “Sorry.” No, that would be far too easy. “Have to call for help, then.” He nodded. “Good idea.” Sarah took out her mobile phone. She had the number of a breakdown service. Unfortunately though… “Oh, great. Emergency calls only.” “You’re joking.” “I’m not. Look. Try yours.” “It’s in the boot. In my jacket. Wait.” Like she had anywhere to go. She remembered he had tossed his jacket into the boot before they set off.

He jumped out, opened the boot, closed it and returned.

“Hey, wait, stop!” She waved frantically. The car zipped past

“Same,” he said. “Strikes me this is an emergency.”

“Not the right sort, I don’t think. Maybe we could claim we’ve been attacked by petrol thieves who have siphoned us dry.”

“I could fake a heart attack. That would qualify. Then we could get a fill-up while I’m being resuscitated. I have to say, I feel like I’m on the verge anyway.”

“You do?” Should she be worried? Did he have a dodgy ticker? She hardly knew anything about him. They hadn’t known each other long, but for all her other new colleagues, she had virtual life histories.

“Just not good with stress,” he said. “Ignore me.”

“Right, well then. Plan B. We could wave down a passing car and cadge a lift. Or we start walking until we get a signal. Or we keep walking until we find a house or a petrol station. What do you think?”

“I think you’ve got plans B to D there. Possibly even E. Might as well start walking and try all of them at the same time. The car’s not going anywhere.”

Which was just about the most sensible thing he’d uttered since the car coughed its last breath.

They’d been walking for a couple of minutes when the first car approached from the opposite direction.

“Hey, wait, stop!” Sarah waved frantically, but the car zipped past. She noticed Dan had his thumb in the air. “No wonder he didn’t stop. You look like you’re hitching a lift.”

“Sorry.” But the next time, a van, he looked like he was simply waving cheerily at it.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” “I’ve never flagged down passing traffic before.”

“Me neither. Maybe I should flash a bit of leg.”

“You could. I wouldn’t object.” A hint of a smile appeared again. “Might even help when the next car passes, too.”

Sarah looked at him and realised he’d just attempted a joke. Not a very good one. Nor very sensible, in the current #MeToo harassment-aware climate. But it was a first, she reckoned. Normally he was staid and professional. Humourless, almost. The expression on his face transformed him. She checked her phone. “Still emergency only.” “Oh well,” Dan said. “Onwards then.” It was a pleasant day and the views were phenomenal, so under normal circumstances it wouldn’t have been a hardship. But they were going to be late now and Dan was hardly the most communicative of people. She decided to make attempt a proper conversation.

“So, Dan – tell me something about yourself. Something extraordinary.”

“Oh, right. Well.” He frowned. “I can juggle three tennis racquets. How’s that?”

Sarah laughed. She hadn’t expected that. “Really? You’re not making it up?”

“It’s like a party trick. I can juggle pretty much three of anything, but tennis racquets are big and they look impressive twirling through the air. I learned when I young.” “You’ll have to show me.” “I will.” “Do you play tennis as well?” “Not with all three at once. But, yes, I do like to play.”

“I like tennis too. I used to play a lot when I was younger.” She’d not played at all when she was with Andy. He’d disliked tennis – disliked a lot things actually, apart from that woman he had the fling with, obviously. Sarah made a decision – right there and then on that road – to buy herself a new racquet.

She wondered why. She looked at Dan. And she felt…

Another car tootled up behind them and Dan tried, once more, to flag it down. He failed, although he did make it swerve. Sarah simply watched it go past.

“Some people,” he said, “are so impolite. I’d stop, if I were driving past.”

“I bet you would.” She couldn’t imagine Andy stopping. She checked her phone again. “I’ve got a signal!” “You have? Wahey, that’s great.” “I’ll call. Then we can go back to the car and wait.” She dialled the breakdown service, but before it connected, her phone beeped twice, then died. “Oh, please – not again.” “What is it?” “My phone.” “What about it?” “It’s out of power.” “Power? You mean…” “Depleted of charge. It does this thing, you see. Not always, but sometimes, and it catches me out.” “Does what?” “It gets to twenty percent,” she said, “then sometimes just dies. I think the battery has one of those false memory things. I can usually get a good few hours out of it, and it seems to work better if I switch it on and off more often.” “Switch it on again now,” Dan said. “It won’t work.” She tried it, and proved her point. “You use yours. There must be somebody you can ring for help.”

“Well, yes, I would – but my phone is in my jacket.” “Which is still in the boot, isn’t it?” Dan pulled a face. “I didn’t think I’d need it. You had yours.” Then he laughed. “And to think you complained about my fuel gauge. I could moan about your battery gauge. Why haven’t you bought a new battery? Or a new phone?” “It’s never been life or death before.” “So we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Dan said. “Probably lost forever, destined to wander the lanes until we fall into a ditch to waste away and…” He pointed. “Oh look, a pub.”

Sarah had been staring at him, not really listening. They already had, she realised, two things in common – tennis and faulty equipment. That was two more than she ever seemed to share with Andy. And Dan was quite dishy when you…

His words suddenly penetrated and she glanced ahead to a pub sign peeping over the crest of the next rise. “Saved!” She laughed. “As long as they haven’t closed down and boarded it up,” Dan said.

But they hadn’t. It was open. Cars were parked outside.

“Funny thing is,” Dan said, “I’ve been wanting to do this almost since you first walked into the office.” “Do what? Get lost in the countryside?” “No, ask you out for a drink.” His cheeks flushed and he shuffled nervously. “But we’re already out, aren’t we? So, do you fancy a drink?”

And it hit her then, quite why he’d been so quiet. Not withdrawn. Not geeky. Not humourless. Just nervous. If she’d hadn’t been so concerned with trying to forget Andy she might have noticed it earlier. Might also have noticed how… “Actually I’d love a drink,” she said. “Although you’ll have to pay. My wallet’s in my jacket. Which is...” “…in the boot,” she finished for him. He grinned, making her giggle. She felt like she hadn’t giggled properly for ages.

They were on a journey, of course, going somewhere, but it was a journey that started not back at the office, but right now, walking into that country pub.

“It’s like a PARTY TRICK. I can JUGGLE pretty much THREE of anything…”