.

it was fairly obvious.’ He glared at the elegant figure in front of him. ‘I also think it would be a good idea to clear the obstruction I’m causing.’ He shut his eyes briefly. ‘Now.’

      ‘Sure.’ Lisa was looking amused. ‘But it would probably take half an hour for a tow truck to get here. Do you really want to wait and listen to that?’

      ‘Get a horse!’ someone yelled. Lisa’s mouth twitched but she controlled her expression admirably.

      David gritted his teeth. ‘I don’t know anything about cars.’

      ‘Hop in,’ Lisa ordered. ‘Turn the key and push gently on the accelerator.’

      David didn’t move. ‘I do know how to start a car,’ he said coldly. ‘If that had worked, I wouldn’t be standing here now. And, yes, it does have some petrol in it.’

      Lisa silently stepped around him and got into his car. The engine started first try and David swore profusely under his breath. He already felt embarrassed enough by his situation. Now he was going to look a complete idiot. The engine ran for thirty seconds and then died. Lisa turned it over but it failed to start. David was perversely relieved.

      Lisa moved swiftly. Opening the tiny boot of her car, she pulled out a toolbox. Removing a torch, she marched back towards him. ‘Get in, turn it on and press suddenly on the accelerator,’ she commanded. Her attention was on his engine as she shone the torch into its depths.

      With a frustrated grunt David did as he was told. At least he was partially hidden, sitting in his car. The insults had become appreciative whistles and hoots as Lisa leaned over the bonnet. David slumped a little further down in his seat.

      ‘Looks like it could be a problem with your fuel line.’ Lisa’s voice floated through the window. ‘Stay there.’ She collected some items from her toolbox, including a glass jar.

      ‘Turn the key—briefly,’ she called a minute later. David complied. ‘And again. OK, stop!’

      David stuck his head out of the window. He watched as Lisa reconnected some tubing and then emptied the jar of petrol into the gutter.

      ‘Blocked fuel line, I think. Try her again.’

      The engine caught, held, but then died. ‘For God’s sake,’ David muttered. ‘I did ask you to call a tow truck.’

      ‘This will only take a minute,’ Lisa snapped. ‘I’m going to check the spark plugs.’

      David sat, drumming his fingers on the steering-wheel. The minute passed. And another. He jumped out. ‘I thought you were staying in the hospital overnight.’ He refused to be impressed by the confident manner with which she selected the socket and wrenches.

      ‘I am. I’m just going home to grab a change of clothes. Stevie’s asleep.’ Lisa shook her head. ‘Look at that. Black! It hasn’t even been firing. And this one’s oily, see?’ She held the spark plug under his nose. ‘Probably a shot PCV valve. When did you have this car in for a service last?’

      ‘I only bought it yesterday.’

      Lisa’s look suggested that there was one born every day. She replaced the spark plugs and David watched as she continued working rapidly. ‘You need new spark plugs, your wiring’s just about had it and the battery’s corroded to hell. Did you even look under this bonnet when you bought this car?’

      David grinned. The funny side of the situation finally struck him. A feminist plot to destroy a manhood. A role reversal to die for. ‘How come you know so much about engines?’ he countered.

      ‘I like old cars.’ Lisa nodded at the gleaming machine parked nearby, wiping her hands on a rag. ‘I could never have afforded to keep one on the road if I hadn’t learned to look after it myself. I’ve had this since I was a student.’ She looked back at David’s car. ‘How much did you pay for this?’

      ‘Two thousand dollars.’

      ‘Take it back,’ she suggested. ‘It’s worth about five hundred.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I’ve got to go. Have another try.’

      The engine started instantly and chugged happily. Lisa listened for a minute. ‘Your timing’s way off.’ She shrugged. ‘Sounds like it might get you home, though.’ She slammed the bonnet shut. ‘I’ll follow you for a block or two, just in case.’