Different Worlds

Here is ch2, still no sex, but it's coming its coming I promise. Again, my eternal gratitude goes to those who've had a hand in editing this, NaokoSmith and North200, honestly it would have been a car crash without them

*****

It was Monday morning.

Sally had just arrived with a package for Ivy. It was clear she wasn't going to leave without some kind of conversation about Saturday night, so Ivy put the kettle on.

"How are you today, Ivy?"

"I'm fine," she replied.

Sally looked at her, waiting, refusing to fill the silence.

Finally Ivy added, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be short, I'm okay really."

"Have you thought about what you want to do?"

Ivy looked puzzled.

"If you wanted to report it to the police, you'd have our full support."

"No, no I don't want to," Ivy said, quickly.

"Are you sure? Richard was there too, he saw what happened."

"No I..." she was mortified at the thought that they'd been discussing her. "No, I don't."

"Its ok, if you don't want to that's fine. As long as you know you have our support whatever you chose to do."

"Okay, thanks," Ivy nodded. She had a stupid lump in her throat.

After Sally had finished drinking her tea and left, Ivy tore open the envelope. Inside she found an invoice from JDS parts and an insignificant looking rubber seal in a Jiffy bag.

She'd never changed a slave cylinder seal. She hadn't even known what one was before last weekend. Still, at least she didn't have to dismantle anything else to get to it, somewhat limiting the things that could go wrong. Chewing on a fingernail, she remembered that she could ring Geoff for advice and Chaz, who lived in a small caravan behind Ruth and Alex, had offered if she needed to borrow any more tools.

She pulled on her overalls, and crawled under the truck with her socket set. She could tell even before she started that it was going to be tricky. The leaking slave cylinder was jammed between the clutch and the gearbox, it would be awkward to reach, and there was a lot of rust.

After what seemed like hours of struggling, a few whacks with a lump hammer, most of a can of WD40 and many many phone calls to Geoff, she was finally getting somewhere. She just had one more nut to undo. It was rusted so badly she wondered if it would ever loosen. She was starting to run out of ideas on how to unseize it when suddenly there was a dog licking her face.

She cried out at the sudden intrusion. "Rosco, what are you doing here?"

One of Terence's red setters had wriggled under the truck with her; Terence often passed that way as he was walking the dogs. She was lucky she hadn't hit her head on the chassis in her haste to move away from the slobbering beast.

"Rosco! Come out from under there."

The dog disappeared again.

"Could you pass me the blow torch," she asked, deciding she may as well use the interruption to her advantage, "I think it's on the tree stump just behind you."

It appeared and she reached forward and grabbed it.

"Thanks, I'll be out in a minute," she called. She should stop for a break whether this worked or not, she needed to see something other than the underside of the truck and breathe some fresh air, and her neck was hurting. "I've just got one more bolt to loosen! Then I'll come up and make us some coffee." A blast of heat made the bolt much more amenable to her spanner and finally she managed to unscrew it.

Holding the slave cylinder in one hand she used her other arm to drag herself out from under the truck and climbed to her feet. She laid the oily thing gently down on the nearby tree stump, placing the bolts carefully beside it. For something that had been so troublesome to get off it looked pretty insignificant out here in the daylight. She brushed twigs and leaves off her overalls and straightened up.

"Richard!" Her mouth fell open, she closed it quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed. He was the last person she'd expected to find standing there.

"Hi," he looked uncomfortable.

"I thought you were Terence. You sound just like him."

"People have said that before," he replied with a nod.

The awkward silence stretched out between them.

"I was walking the dogs, and I wanted to check if you were ok after Saturday night."

"I'm fine," she said quickly, "Why wouldn't I be?"

She looked away, at the dogs, who were sniffing around at the foot of a nearby tree. Sasha flopped down, still panting from her run. Rosco settled beside her and rested his head on his paws, watching Ivy dolefully.

She felt a twinge of guilt,

Why was she always so short with him? Why shouldn't Richard be concerned about her after what had happened? He'd taken the trouble to walk her home after all.

She hadn't expected to see him again. He'd caught her off guard. She hadn't liked it but that wasn't his fault.

"Well, how about that coffee?" she suggested.

*

Richard watched as Ivy peeled away her latex gloves and slid the top half of her overalls off, tying the sleeves in a knot around her waist and revealing a strappy, leopard skin print top. Absently she brushed a few strands of hair off her face, unaware that she'd smeared some grease on her cheek. He nearly reached over to wipe it away with his thumb but already she was climbing the short, steep steps into her truck.

"Come in," she called over her shoulder as she disappeared inside, "Make yourself at home."

He ducked in through the door and lowered himself down onto a small sofa. Ivy took a jar of coffee down from the shelf over the cooker. As she reached, her top slid up, exposing a smooth panel of abdomen. She didn't notice the appreciative look Richard gave her as his eyes roamed over the bare flesh.

She filled a tiny espresso machine and set it on the stove. She was very curvy and he was struck by this unexpected femininity. The lace trimmed top was a stark contrast to the grubby, oil smeared overalls she was wearing. The space was small enough that even sitting on the sofa he could, if he'd wanted to, reach out and touch her. He wanted to wrap his hands around her waist and pull her towards him, to run his fingers across that tantalising strip of bare skin, to brush his lips against it.

Pulling his eyes away from her he looked around. The truck was an exercise in efficient use of space, meticulously organised, beautifully executed. Most surfaces were paneled in wood giving the interior a warm, comfortable feel. The walls were covered in bookshelves, photographs, postcards, bunches of drying herbs. Saucepans and other cooking implements hung from hooks on the ceiling. He noticed a small wood-burning stove in the corner. Every nook and cranny had been utilised and everything seemed to be in miniature.

The espresso machine started to spit steam and the tiny space filled with the aroma of coffee.

"This place is amazing," he said, as he looked around taking it all in.

"Don't sound so surprised." Her reply was abrupt, like a bark.

Sighing, she looked over to where he was sitting. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm giving you such a hard time, it's not even like it's an unusual reaction."

"We didn't get off to a very good start."

"No, we didn't."

"I'm sorry my brother was so rude to you in the walnut grove. I should have said something at the time."

"S'okay," she said and the accompanying smile transformed her face. Something flickered inside Richard's chest. He was baffled by how strongly even the smallest things she did seemed to affect him.

"How do you like your coffee?"

"Milk, no sugar, thanks."

She poured some of the milk she'd heated into the mug and handed it to him. As their fingers brushed she whipped her hand back, startled and their gazes locked. He found himself apologising, even though he wasn't sure what for and she smiled again, but it was a faltering smile this time.

Curling up at the other end of the sofa with her knees tucked under her she held her coffee mug in both hands and surveyed him from behind the rim. He wondered what she was thinking; did she have any idea of the effect merely being this close to her was having on him?

"Good coffee," he said, and smiling he added, "not that I'm surprised or anything."

She laughed at that. Her laughter, like her voice, was somehow husky and melodic at the same time. He felt another lurch of desire somewhere in his gut and he swallowed nervously. He needed to get a handle on himself.

They talked about the party, she teased him about the costume he'd been wearing and he responded in kind about her uniform.

Her brows knitted together and she pouted, "I wasn't wearing it through choice." She was lovely when she scowled. "Urghh I still can't believe Sally made us all wear it. I would never have agreed to help if I'd known about the uniform."

"Well I wasn't very happy either, although at least you were being paid for looking silly."

*

Ivy felt her cheeks flush as Richard filled her in on the events of the following morning. James, the drunk who had made a pass at her, had woken up the following morning with a thumping headache and only a vague recollection of what had happened the night before. He'd been mortified when Richard had filled him in. He'd wanted to apologise to Ivy personally but Richard had refused to help him find her, imagining she would rather not hear from him, instead promising to pass his apology on.

"Yeah, he needs to work on his technique a bit, that one," she said when he told her, "But thanks for not giving him my number or anything."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I don't know what he thought he was doing." He sounded angry. "Sally said you weren't keen on reporting it to the police."

"No," she said, faster than she'd meant to.

His lips formed a thin line. She could tell that he was struggling not to argue with her about it.

"He's young, he couldn't handle his drink," Ivy added, she felt a lot easier now the incident was behind her and she knew she would never see James again.

"It's not acceptable," Richard scowled, his eyes darkening.

Ivy felt inexplicably pleased with his response. She usually hated it when men behaved like overprotective oafs, but not with Richard for some reason.

She was sure that if she continued to meet his gaze he would know what was going on in her head and biting her lip she looked down at her mug. This wasn't personal, she reminded herself. Richard was a nice guy, he was just doing the right thing. This wasn't about her.

"No serious harm done, luckily you were there to be my knight in shining armour," she laughed. Feeling braver she looked back up at him to find him studying her.

*

Again Richard struggled with the impulse to act on his attraction to her. He worried what she would think if she knew he had been able to come to her rescue so quickly because he had done little else all evening but watch her. What would she think if she knew how grateful he was to have had the opportunity to be that knight, to have this excuse to casually drop by today?

To distract himself he asked her what she had been doing under the truck. She told him about the clutch, showed him the tiny seal that had arrived in the post that morning, and began to explain.

"I'm lucky, it could have been so much more expensive. I've managed to get the slave cylinder off, so now I have to put the new seal in and then I have to put it back," she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth and with her eyebrows knitted together. "I'm a bit worried about that," but she brightened again almost immediately. "Luckily I've a mate who's basically a walking Dodge 50 encyclopedia so..." He was studying her face, noticing how expressive it was when she was enthused by a subject when suddenly she stopped speaking and frowned. "Oh God, I must be boring you to death. I've been thinking about this obsessively for days, I'm sorry."

"No, really it's fine, you're not boring me, I'm finding it fascinating actually."

From the other side of the sofa Ivy raised her eyebrows sceptically. Richard realised he meant what he'd said and he wondered what about it he was finding it so fascinating exactly but the beep of a mobile phone distracted him. Ivy jumped up and reached over to her bed. "Oh, that's my phone, I need to put it on charge."

As she plugged it in, it was Richard's turn to frown.

"You have electricity?"

"Yes," she laughed again, "This

is

the 21st century, Richard."

He frowned. "I've never been in a vehicle that doubles up as someone's home before." These people in caravans renting land from his father were a new thing; it had started after he'd moved up to London for university, he thought it was nice that his dad was letting them stay but he'd never had much to do with them.

"Really? I'd never have guessed," she grinned, "I'm plugged into the mains, we all are, but I also have a small solar panel, on the roof. It tops up a battery in the cab, which I use for charging stuff when I'm off grid. I use a burner for heat," she leaned forward and patted the small wood stove, "Bottled gas for cooking. I don't have running water, but the sink drains."

"You've used the space well."

"Cheers."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, drinking their coffee, when Richard spoke again. He wanted to understand her better. He was worried he was going to offend her again, but curiosity overcame this fear.

"Why do you live like this, Ivy? Always moving, never settling anywhere? I hope you don't mind me asking?"

*

The question threw Ivy, she was usually so sure of the answer but today she found she was lost for words. How to explain without it sounding like a cliché? She realised she had been doing this for so long now, she had gone from thinking about it a lot to not thinking about it at all. And recently things had changed, she liked it here in this little wood, for the first time since she'd left home she wondered about staying put for longer than a few months. She had always been careful to make sure the dodge was fully serviced, that there was enough diesel in the tank. This was the first time something serious had happened and it had shaken her but also it seemed like a blessing. She looked back at Richard and realised she hadn't said any of those thoughts out loud, that he was still waiting for a reply, watching her with a faintly amused expression on his face.

"I like the freedom it gives me. There's something about the act of travelling, moving along the open road. I think better, I see things more clearly." She paused again and thought some more. "I guess I like the rebelliousness of it, being outside of society, not having to conform, I always felt like an outsider when I was growing up so I thought, why not be one?"

She stopped talking, she felt like she'd said too much, bared too much of her soul to his scrutiny. He was looking at her strangely. He always seemed so serious, so responsible, not for the first time she felt like a child, avoiding facing up to the responsibilities of adulthood. He seemed to have this effect on her, he seemed so stern, so disapproving. He was nodding slowly as he watched her, but he didn't respond. She felt compelled to start talking again, to fill the silence.

"And I suppose I like the identity that comes with it, it's kind of like a shield to hide behind. And I like being able to go wherever I like, be whoever I want to be." Oh God, she needed to stop talking, she was starting to sound like a right nutter. He was going to think she had some kind of pathological talking disorder.

"I think I understand," he said slowly, "You like to being able to leave at any time and start again, become someone new?"

"Yeah," she nodded, pleased he seemed to get where she was coming from, "Yeah that's it."

He was gazing out of the window with a distant, almost wistful look on his face.

"Walking away has never really been an option for me," he said quietly, "I've always been at Cartwright. I was always going to inherit the title, everything in my life has been leading up to it. I can't walk away, although to be honest I've never really wanted to, at least not in any serious way."

She leaned towards him and waited for him to continue; she felt like she was seeing another side to him, one he didn't usually show. But he didn't, instead he stood up. Pushing his hands into his pockets he looked around.

"I should go, let you return to your mechanics."

"Yeah, I need to change this seal and get the slave cylinder back on there before dark." She got to her feet too and shrugged her overalls back on.

"Thanks for the coffee." He smiled at her, and his eyes crinkled at the edges, she hadn't noticed his smile before. She felt a lurch of attraction.

"Thanks for coming to check up on me." Without thinking, she reached up and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a brief hug. It was what she normally did with any friend she was greeting or parting company with, but she had forgotten -Richard wasn't just any friend. They lived in different worlds.

She inhaled, and suddenly she was filled with the scent of him. He smelled faintly of the coffee he'd just drunk and shower gel but beneath that he had his own distinct smell, and it was doing peculiar things to her. He was big and hard and solid and there was something very comforting about that, something arousing, too. She tried to dismiss the riot of feelings rising up in her. But she was super aware of every point at which their bodies touched.

She felt him stiffen and she pulled away, feeling awkward and too affected by being so near to him but they were still standing close together. It was impossible not to in her tiny truck. Suddenly she wished the Dodge were bigger, big enough for her to back off. Ivy sighed. She messed it up again. She never seemed to get it right with him, she was either biting his head off or being too friendly.

"Well, thanks for dropping by," she said, desperate to make him feel more at ease. Was he blushing? Was that Richard blushing? Oh God, she wished the ground would just swallow her up.

"Yes, it's been... illuminating."

Despite her embarrassment unwelcome thoughts crept into her mind. She found herself wondering what it would be like to lean in again kiss him. Unconsciously she had drawn her bottom lip into her mouth and closed her teeth over it and suddenly she was alarmed by the unwelcome thought that this might seem wanton. She didn't mean to flirt with him, she lifted her hand to her mouth and started nibbling at her thumbnail.

He was staring at her lips with an expression that she wasn't sure how to read. She couldn't tear her gaze away. She took a small step back trying to disentangle herself from the alarming effect being this near to him seemed to have on her. It didn't work entirely but the distance helped a little.

The tense moment passed; Richard seemed to remember himself. "I should go, I'm glad you're okay. Thanks for the coffee." He spoke in a rush and she was surprised at the sudden change in his manner, they had seemed to be getting on but now he was cool again.

"It's okay, anytime."

She watched as he walked briskly off into the woods, Sasha and Rosco scampering excitedly around his feet. She wasn't sure how to interpret their odd interaction.

*

Richard walked back to the house. The dogs were tired, happy to be heading home.

He was worrying about his parting with Ivy. The last thing he'd expected her to do was hug him, he wasn't sure if she even liked him. It seemed like she'd only offered to make coffee to compensate for being so abrupt. The contact had shocked him. So, instead of reciprocating as he should have done,

like any normal person would have done,

he'd clammed up. He'd been too scared to react in case he did something inappropriate -like kiss her. He didn't want to risk overstepping any boundaries, she'd had enough of that at the party.