‘Erin, is that you?’ came a crackly voice.
‘Yes. Let me in?’
‘Wait there.’
I waited for the blare of the gate unlocking, but nothing came. I peered through the bars. Had Adam left me here? I glanced round, hoping nobody I knew would see me. I yanked my hat even lower over my eyes and pulled up my hood.
It was several minutes before I heard the low thrum of an engine. Slowly it got closer and closer until, just before it became an unbearable roar, Adam appeared over the brow of the hill, dressed in leather trousers, a helmet pulled over his head. He was on his motorbike.
He pulled up to the gate, climbed off and unlocked it, then rode through and cut the engine. The sudden silence made my ears ring. He took his helmet off and grinned at me.
‘What do you think?’ he said, and that was when I noticed he was holding out another helmet towards me.
‘You’re kidding?’
‘Absolutely not. Go on Erin, you’ll love it.’
I took the helmet tentatively. ‘I thought you hadn’t ridden since the accident?’
‘I haven’t.’
‘So what—’
‘I have to get back on some time. And I’d already planned to give it a go today. So when you texted I thought, who better to come with me on my very first time back in the saddle than Erin?’
I stared at the hulking machine sitting between us and then at his face. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea? I thought—’
‘I won’t freak out, I promise. I’ve ridden it up and down the drive a few times and it’s been fine. Nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be.’ He glanced behind him. ‘But if you’re coming we’d better get going before my parents stage some sort of intervention. They think I’m being “completely irresponsible”.’ He made quote marks in the air with his fingers and rolled his eyes.
I hesitated a moment longer, torn between agreeing with his parents and wanting to get on the bike despite my promises to myself before I got here. Then I placed the helmet over my head, the sounds around me immediately becoming muffled. I waited for Adam to climb on and slung my leg over the seat, clambering on behind him and pressing my body as close to his back as I could.
‘You’ll have to hold on tight,’ he yelled through the distortion of the helmet and I wrapped my arms round his waist and pressed my cheek against the soft leather of his jacket. I felt light-headed at the contact.
Then we were off, the roar of the engine filling my ears, the hulk of the machine vibrating beneath me, and Adam’s body melded to mine as though it was always meant to be there.
It didn’t take us long to get out of town, and soon we were zipping along country lanes, Adam only slowing to take corners cautiously on the slick tarmac. For the first time I saw his vulnerability, his fear of coming off the bike and hurting himself again winning over his desire to fly like the wind.
It felt as though we were riding for hours, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes by the time Adam pulled over to the side of the road and stilled the engine. The silence was immediate, and my ears hummed. I pulled my helmet off at the same time he did, and when he twisted round to speak to me, his mouth was precariously close to mine. I felt his breath on my lips when he spoke.
‘Ready?’
I glanced at the muddy fields that stretched bleakly to our right to meet the wispy sky, the high ground tipped with frost. A solitary bird pecked at the frozen earth, but otherwise there was no other sign of life. I nodded.
Adam took the helmet from me and hung it from the handlebar, then indicated for me to follow him as he pushed the bike away from the road and towards the trees. The darkness beneath the canopy of branches felt heavy, and every sound was muffled, even our footsteps, which crunched as we walked.
Adam stopped and leant the bike against a nearby tree and before I knew it he had grabbed my hand and started dragging me further into the woods.
‘Where are we going?’ I said, my feet stumbling beneath me.
He didn’t reply, but it was only a few more seconds before he stopped and I almost crashed into him.
‘I found this place the other day when I was out in the car,’ he said. ‘I thought you might like it.’
The trees had opened up into a clearing overhung by branches, where logs were arranged in a circle, a patch of scorched earth and ashes in the centre. An old string of tattered bunting flapped in the wind, and a discarded foil barbecue was half-buried beneath one of the larger logs. And I was hit, suddenly, by a memory of being here, a long time ago, with Adam. There had been a party, a late one after a gig, and Adam had brought me here on his scooter. His band mates came, and when we’d arrived the fire had been roaring, crates of beers were being passed round, and music had blared out of speakers as people danced round the fire. I’d been mesmerised, and had felt shy suddenly, unsure of myself. These people were older than me, and so cool, they wouldn’t want me here.
It had been a chilly, late-autumn evening and we’d spent most of the night near the fire, trying to stay warm. I blushed now as I remembered how he’d kissed me that night, how people had shouted at us to get a room as his hand had slipped under my skirt and up my thigh… I remembered the spliffs that had been passed round, the bottles of vodka, the world starting to spin. And then I remembered ‘Friday I’m In Love’ by The Cure playing, and Adam’s lips pressed against mine, warm and dry and tasting of ash and Coke, and him telling me he loved me for the first time…
‘We’ve been here before,’ I said, looking up at him.
