To hear the author read this chapter for you, click here.

     Thunder ricocheted across the sky as Xandra Mason removed her motorcycle helmet. She looked above the tree-lined streets of Belvedere, only to see puffy white clouds. She shrugged, flicked the stand out for her bike to rest, then swung both her heeled boots over the double-yellow lines to land squarely together on the pavement.
     The homes along this road were undoubtedly spacious on the inside, but from the outside they were bland redbrick cubes. So the vehicle maintenance complex at the crossroads stood out like a blue plaster over a wart. As Xandra walked towards it, two men in their mid-life crises – probably unemployed – passed her in the other direction. Sensing their eyes on her, she mentally checked that her buttocks were clenched, her hips swaying.
     Sure enough, she heard a low whistle. Not quite loud enough to be described as lupine – men were rarely that bold anymore – but a sure sign that they’d appreciated her figure.
     Xandra spun round to face them, flashed her middle finger. "Fuck you."
     The men looked startled, almost aggrieved. Xandra turned away in disgust.
     As she reached the complex, she had to pass two women with pushchairs. They were chatting with each other while smiling inanely at the prams in front of them. Xandra walked straight at the woman farthest from the roadside until, with barely a metre of pavement left between them, the woman noticed, gasped, and yanked her pram towards her friend’s.
     The resultant collision caused a baby to start crying. The mothers made exclamations of some kind. Xandra couldn’t tell whether they were aimed at her, each other, or the babies. She walked on regardless.
     At the barbed-topped steel gate, she pressed a buzzer. The small circular speaker next to it crackled into life. Through the fuzz she heard, "Can I help you?"
     "It’s Tony’s sister. Is he there?"
     "Hold on..."
     The speaker went silent. Xandra stood there, gazing around the forecourt full of emergency service vehicles and fat-wallet cars.
     There was another electric spit: "He’s coming out."
     Xandra straightened, shifted away from the gate, turned to look towards the complex. A few seconds later, a blond-haired mechanic in dirty overalls emerged and began striding across the forecourt towards her. He was fit. He didn’t bother to acknowledge Xandra, just concentrated on lighting a cigarette.
     Only when the guy had slid through the steel gate did he give her a glance and a nod.
     Xandra put her arms around his waist, pecked his cheek.
     He raised his eyebrows. "Job done, is it?"
     She smiled. "You should see the results soon."
     He shrugged her off. "Won’t be soon enough."
     She took a step back, ran her fingers through her hair. "Got a spare fag?"
     He produced one from inside his overalls, passed it to her. She put it in her mouth, he produced a lighter. They stood taking deep drags for a while – him looking into the sky, her looking around and often at him.
     Then music came from her handbag. Xandra reached in, looked at her mobile. "It’s the boss."
     Tony’s eyebrows didn’t budge. "Thought it’s your day off?"
     She shrugged, clicked her tongue. "Yep, but I better take it. Whole plan’s scuppered if I get fired, eh."
     As she swiped to answer, a bloke called from over at the complex: "Anthony?"
     Tony threw the remains of his cigarette to the pavement, pressed it into the tarmac with the ball of his foot. "Yep."
     As he slid back through the gate, Xandra blew him a kiss. He took his perfect ass back across the forecourt without looking back.
     Xandra brought the phone to her ear. "Yep?"
     There was urgency in the voice. "Xandra? Where are you? I need you here now..."

Next Chapter: Ronan