Wayne is sitting on the bonnet of his car, tossing the keys from one hand to the other.

‘No way,’ he says.

I press myself up against him, running my nails along his chest. I dig them into his T-shirt just enough so that he can feel it and a grin creeps onto his face.

‘Pleeeeeeease,’ I beg. ‘Please let me drive.’

‘No.’

There’s something particularly gorgeous about him today. He’s been working on his car most of the day and, because of the heat of the day and the fact he never drinks enough water, the muscles in his arms are bulging. He’s really become a man.

‘I’ll make it up to you,’ I purr.

The grin grows wider. ‘How?’

‘You know…’

He glances past me towards the dusty, deserted car park outside the mill. His is the only vehicle here. After spending the day with his car, I finally persuaded him to bring me out here. Just us this time. No Ellie or Jason to disturb us. Nobody else from the town was around either, not even a nosey dog-walker. It felt like the world was ours and ours alone.

He glances up to the sky but only for a moment. His eyes are for me. ‘It’s getting dark,’ he says.

‘So let’s get going. I’ll be really careful.’

‘You’ve not passed your test yet.’

I press against him again, lips level, barely a couple of centimetres between us. ‘No one’s going to stop us. I do know how to drive. It was that stupid examiner who spoiled things. You know that.’

I’ve cracked him now. I can see it in his smirk.

I press the car keys out of his hand and peck him gently on the nose before pushing my lips hard onto his. I’ve been trying to get Wayne to let me drive his pride and joy for weeks but he says no to everyone. This is a victory. This means he loves me.

I have to shunt the driver’s seat forward so I can reach the pedals.

Wayne fusses by telling me about how fourth gear sticks sometimes. ‘You need to shove it hard,’ he says.

‘Whatever.’

‘Not “whatever”. Listen to me.’

‘I am!’

I almost stall the car on the way out of the car park but blame it on a sticky first gear and try again. The engine purrs powerfully and beautifully. It’s much better than being behind the wheel of the instructor’s car. He complains if I get out of third gear but this is real freedom. The vibration of the engine surges up through the bodywork of the car, making the driver’s seat hum with thunderous power.

‘Good, innit?’ Wayne says from the passenger seat.

I turn out of the lane that leads to the mill, moving onto the windy country roads. Wayne scolds me for not indicating but it’s not as if there are any cars near. Whenever I push harder on the pedal, the engine roars its approval. I can feel Wayne watching from the passenger seat, not quite approving as I accelerate out of a bend. It’s only when the tyres skid across a loose coating of gravel that he speaks up.

‘Slow down,’ he says.

‘I know what I’m doing.’

‘You’ve not passed your test yet.’

‘I know how to drive.’

I slow for the next bend but forget one turn leads into a second. At the last moment, as the black and white chevrons blare large in front, I brake and then make the car lurch by going straight from third to first.

Wayne is thrown forward in his seat and then turns to stare in disapproval: ‘What are you doing?’

‘It’s the car.’

‘You’re going too fast.’

‘No I’m not.’

I take the next bend far more carefully but the steering wheel is stiff. I wouldn’t admit it to Wayne, but it almost feels as if it is fighting against me whenever I try to turn it at lower speeds.

There are a couple more bends and then, finally, a long straight. This is the bit I’ve been looking forward to. As Wayne said, I have to ram the gearstick into fourth, but, when I ease onto the accelerator, the entire machine pulsates with power. The vibrations start under my feet, rippling up through the seat until it feels as the car and I are one and the same. It’s beautiful.

Wayne is saying something but the engine is so loud that I can’t hear him. It’ll be something about my speed, about slowing down. Not yet, though. I’ve been waiting for this. This is what living is all about. I don’t think he gets that sometimes. He’s never waded out across the river when it’s flowing at its fastest. He hasn’t run the paddles of the waterwheel, trying to get to the top. Ellie has. Jason has. I have. Not Wayne. He sees the danger; we see opportunity and fun.

Faster still. The hedges blur, the tarmac tears.

More, please. Give me more.