Hauling the mass of the bike onto the right line was a workout, and she hadn't ridden so far in one go since they had gone over the goat track. Even keeping to her promise of not racing, the path they had come back along had been more technical. She slowed and stopped before reaching the small square ahead. George's fuel burning bike was lighter than Maxine's electric one, but, with only one driven wheel, it was harder work to control. It was noisy, too. The rasp of its motor echoed between the buildings on the street as he twisted the throttle to race toward her. He leant forward and pulled a stoppie- waving the rear wheel in the air- just like she had earlier. "Let's not take that track on the way out." Maxine said, when Georges had killed his chattering motor and walked the bike over to her. "Definitely not." Georges swatted a chunk of mud off his trousers. He looked around. The few people on the square were turning away one by one, pretending they hadn't been watching, curious what the noise and movement were about.
