‘Nope. Thought it might not be.’ I catch Shane throwing him a quick look. Please leave us alone, is how I’d interpret it.
‘So, what’re you gonna do?’ Fletch asks brightly.
‘Not quite sure yet,’ Shane murmurs. I sense him deliberately trying to exclude his friend from the discussion we clearly need to have.
‘Could you hire an actual camper?’ Fletch suggests. ‘There must be loads of places?—’
‘Oh, no, I don’t think so,’ I say quickly. Not without a job, I can’t. Not when I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next month. Admittedly, Lloyd’s foot-focussed enterprise is becoming more appealing, and didn’t he say he’d take care of all the admin and the uploading of pics?
‘How about booking hotels then?’ Fletch asks. Clearly, he isn’t up for being left out of this. He whips out his phone from a pocket and frowns at it. ‘What’s your first port of call?’
‘Er, Grimsby,’ I reply.
‘Fletch, it’s fine,’ Shane says firmly, but his friend is already on booking.com, assuming the role of Trip Leader.
‘Place here. Four-star average. Free hot breakfast.’ He flashes the screen at me. ‘Not bad, eh?’
‘Yeah, we’ll just have a minute, mate,’ Shane says, at which Fletch nods, finally understanding that he’s not needed, and he lopes away into the alley.
I look at Shane. ‘What d’you think?’
‘I guess he’s right. One of us could stay in hotels. I mean you, obviously. This is all my fault, so I’ll pay.’
‘You’re not paying for five nights in hotels,’ I exclaim, ‘while you sleep in the van. How would that be fair?’ He shrugs. ‘Look,’ I add, ‘I might as well be honest. I’m pretty broke at the moment. The only way I can do this is if we keep costs to the absolute minimum. So—’ I tip my head towards the van ‘—how about we just do this as we planned? It’s clean, at least. And we do have our sleeping bags.’
Shane nods thoughtfully, as if turning this over. ‘Yeah, we do.’
‘Although, obviously, as there’s no shower or anything?—’
‘We’ll have to stay on campsites,’ he finishes.
‘Yeah. But that’d be okay, wouldn’t it? The van will just be somewhere to crash at the end of the day.’ I’m trying to not even consider the many, many other hours we’ll be spending together – the non-sleeping hours – which I have no idea how we’ll fill. We haven’t even discussed what our plans will be. Should I have brought Buckaroo?
‘I guess so,’ Shane says, seeming to relax a little now. ‘Shall we have a quick coffee in the shop, then? Before we set off?’
‘That’d be great.’
He bangs the ambulance door shut, and we head along the alleyway and into the shop, where I gaze around in amazement. ‘Wow!’ I exclaim. Gleaming guitars are hung along one wall, and rows of golden saxophones and silver trumpets are perched expectantly on stands. Everything is immaculate and beautifully displayed.
Fletch looks up from behind the counter and chuckles. ‘Not what you expected?’
‘The shop, you mean?’ I smile. ‘I wasn’t really sure what to expect,’ I add truthfully.
‘It’s a labour of love,’ Shane says with a grin. Then, ‘Any coffee on the go, Fletch?’
‘Sure,’ Fletch says, disappearing through a door behind the counter.
‘Honestly, I think it’s wonderful,’ I say, remembering a couple of excitable women who’d tumbled into the bookshop last week. Clearly tipsy from lunch, they were obviously delighted to have discovered us. ‘What a gorgeous little place!’ one exclaimed. ‘Thank God there are still unique little shops like this left in the world!’ Shane and Fletch’s place is just as special. Briefly, I wonder if Rupert has replaced me yet.
Fletch reappears with two mugs of coffee and hands them to us. ‘So, you’re sticking to the van option?’ he asks.
I turn to Shane. ‘Looks like it, doesn’t it?’
He nods with a wry smile and sips his coffee. ‘Yeah, I reckon we’ll be all right.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Fletch asserts. ‘But if anything untoward happens, you can always whack on the blue light.’
‘It doesn’t have a blue light any more,’ Shane remarks.
