She’d near-perfected it, that casual, semi-bored, but taking-an-interest question on a Friday evening as they sank their ritual second glasses of wine before going their separate ways, he to fiddle about in the garage, she for a bath, probably: “Plans for the weekend?”
“Out, on a run, the girder fork run.”
“Girder fork? What? Are they real?”
He explained, at greater length than she required about the age and the reason and the construction, and the pros and the cons; all she’d wanted to know was a) was it real and b) how long would he be away for.
What he failed to explain was that other bits of the bike were dodgy, likely to break down.
So they were caught not only by him, but the AA man too, who was sat outside, still checking for details of his next call when the gun went off.
One Word, Sentence Two (Friday) In the second sentence include the following word: fork