‘I should’ve given these to you earlier.’ He drops them into my palm. ‘You can come and go as you please. Let me talk you through the alarm. I don’t usually bother setting it, but I should.’
As he goes through the instructions for the keypad on the wall, my eyes drift over the wood dust coating the light-blond hairs on his lean forearms. He notices me noticing.
‘No time for a shower.’ He brushes his hands over his arms and I stiffen with embarrassment, trying to focus on the rest of his instructions.
Chapter 9
Right, that’s it. I’m going out for the day. It was all very nice tootling along the cycle path yesterday on my, yes, admittedly chunky hired bike, but today I fancy a drive. And it has nothing to do with the fact that my leg muscles are sore now as well as those of my stomach.
Nicki’s ‘Research’ document mentioned a Morris-and-Kit scene set in the Lost Gardens of Heligan, so that’s where I’m headed.
I stand on the grass outside the van’s wide side door and stare in at the mess. I’d better make up the bed and store the table at the very least. I should probably also wash up so I can put away the plates and cups. Plus, I need to turn the driver’s seat back around, so that will mean clearing the clothes from the footwell. Christ, I need to take off all the fairy lights as well.
Urgh. What a faff.
I start with the table and bed, then decide to tackle the footwell. But, when I go around to the driver’s side of the van, I see to my dismay that the back left wheel is completely flat.
Ah. Sothat’swhy I’ve been rolling off to one side for the last few nights.
My shoulders slump. I’ve never changed a tyre in my life.
I set off to the office in search of help and find Julia sitting behind the desk.
‘Hey,’ I say.
‘Hey, Bridget!’ she replies, far more chirpily.
‘I don’t suppose you or Justin knows how to change a tyre, do you?’
Her face falls. ‘Have you got a flattie?’
‘Yeah.’ I roll my eyes.
‘I’m afraid not. We don’t have a car. We cycle everywhere. Neither of us can even drive, to be honest.’
Bloody hippies.
‘Give Charlie a call,’ she suggests, perking up. ‘He’s very handy.’
‘Oh, no, I don’t want to bother him.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ She picks up the phone and dials a number.
‘No, Ireallydon’t want to bother him,’ I reiterate, waving my hands at her in a panic.
‘Hi, Charlie?’ Julia says into the receiver, blatantly ignoring me, even as I continue to wave my hands wildly at her. ‘It’s Julia.’ Pause. ‘Hello! Listen, I’ve got Bridget here and she’s got a flat tyre on her campervan.’ Pause. ‘You’re a star. Thanks, darling.’
She hangs up. I stare at her, mortified.
‘He’s coming right over.’
‘You didn’t have to do that.’ It’s a struggle to contain my frustration.
‘It’s no problem,’ she replies with a sunny smile.
I get as far as showering and washing up my dirty dishes when Charlie pulls up at my pitch in a silver Mitsubishi pickup truck.
‘Sorry about this,’ I say as he climbs out of the vehicle.
