Frances lowered herself on to his lap and put her arm round his shoulders. The feel of her soft young body and the smell of her faint perfume made his blood quicken. He sat motionless, his arm slackly round her, bemused. This was something that had never happened to him before; something that had happened only in his dreams.
Buster cranked the engine which started with a roar. Having made sure Bunty was settled in the back, he drove away from the garage and sent the car roaring towards the sea.
The noise of the engine prevented any conversation, and Pete was glad of the opportunity to savour this extraordinary experience of having a girl so close to him.
As the little car banged and bumped along at forty-five miles an hour, Frances had to cling to him and he to her to prevent her being thrown out. She was laughing, and once she screamed to Buster to drive more slowly, but he didn’t appear to hear her.
Pete suddenly realized that the odd feeling he was experiencing was the nearest to excited happiness he had ever known, and he found himself smiling at Frances as she clung to him, and he felt a tingle run up his spine as she laughed back at him.
The car’s off-wheel suddenly hit a pot-hole and jolted them violently together. Frances’s skirts shot up to show the tops of her stockings and the smooth white flesh of her thighs. Pete hurriedly pulled down her skirt to save her from untwining her arms from around his neck.
“Oh, thank you,” she gasped, her mouth close to his ear. This is really awful. We must stop him.”
But Buster had already slowed down and was grinning at Pete and winking.
“I knew that would happen sooner or later,” he bawled. It never fails to work. I always provide a free show for my male friends.”
“Buster! You behave yourself or we’ll go home!” Bunty screamed at him.