‘I never adjusted it back to my size afterwards,’ he murmurs, and I have a very close-up view of his peach-iced-tea eyes looking intense with concentration as he fiddles with my strap.
‘You still have it?’
‘Mm-hmm.’ He meets my eyes briefly and then picks up his rucksack and helps me to put that on too.
I’m still feeling kind of flip-floppy once we’re seated and ready to go. With my body armour and his, there’s a level of separation between us that we didn’t have on the other short journeys we’ve taken. I loved the feeling of his stomach muscles contracting beneath the fabric of his T-shirt, andI liked the warmth of his leather jacket on my skin, but I’m glad we’re wearing full protective clothing now that we’re going faster. I felt a little short of breath when he first took off along the open road, but I’ve got used to the speed now, the rush of air, the roar of the engine, and the way my body aligns with his as he leans into bends in the road.
I’ve relaxed enough to take in the scenery too: the wide-open fields and rolling green hills dotted with sheep, the bubbling water racing over rocks in the rivers beside us, the way the light changes when we zoom beneath the dense overhang of trees.
When we’ve been driving for forty minutes or so, Ash slows down at the entrance of a wide bridge spanning a large lake. It’s made out of grey stone that looks almost marbled with the amount of aged lichen clinging to it. He creeps to a stop to show me that the water on one side is lower than the other. The bridge’s arches perch on top of a thick stone wall that sinks deep beneath the dark surface.
‘It’s a dam?’
‘Yep.’
He drives slowly across to the other side while I look at the boats on the water, and after a couple more minutes he pulls up at the side of the lake and puts his foot down, turning off the ignition.
‘We’ll stop here for a while,’ he says, taking off his black motorcycle gloves and helmet.
I climb off behind him and remove mine too, shaking out my hair.
‘Okay?’ he asks, watching me for my reaction.
I nod, smiling. ‘That was so much fun.’
It warms my heart, how happy he looks.
‘Where are we?’ I ask.
The water glints between the tree trunks of a narrow stretch of woodland.
‘Lake Vyrnwy,’ he replies, taking my helmet and gloves and leading me between the trees. ‘This reservoir supplies Liverpool.’
‘Isn’t that quite a long way away?’
‘Yeah. The water travels along a seventy-mile aqueduct to get there,’ he tells me as we make our way towards the shoreline, stepping over dead tree trunks covered with furry green moss.
‘Evan’s asked me to go to some aqueduct with him tomorrow,’ I say casually.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Ash replies bluntly, coming to a stop so suddenly I almost crash into him.
‘What?’ I ask as he turns around to stare down at me.
‘He’s taking you to the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct?’ he asks with annoyance, pronouncing it Pont-ker-sulth-tay.
‘I don’t know what it’s called.’
‘It’ll definitely be that one. That bloke is showing you everywhere in the guidebook. It’ll be Portmeirion next, or Powis Castle or Anglesey …’
‘I thought you didn’t mind Evan?’
‘I’m minding him more.’ Two seconds pass before he screws up his nose at me cutely and says, in a much more reasonable tone, ‘I know you’re free to do whatever you want with whoever you want, but I really wanted to show you thePontcysyllte Aqueduct. He’s Australian, for fuck’s sake. I’m Welsh. I still can’t believe he took you to Pistyll Rhaeadr on Sunday,’ he mutters irritably as he carries on towards the water.
Is it wrong to find his outburst amusing?
I put him out of his misery. ‘We haven’t been to the waterfall yet.’
He shoots his head round to look at me and he’s so upbeat and hopeful that I can’t help but laugh.
