But to Kim’s ears, it already sounds as if Danika is resisting, and it’s not the damper she’s talking about.
Danika was right, and the kids scorn the idea of pizza, insisting that they will cook sausages and potatoes on the campfire. Dusk falls, and the campfire is a banked heap of embers and flickering small flames. Perfect for staring into while cradling a glass of wine. Perfect for cooking.
Foil-wrapped potatoes nestle in the embers. Kim has set up a griddle, and the girls are busy turning sausages over the fire. So far, only two have been lost to the flames.
Danika opens the store-bought tub of coleslaw, grated cheese, buttered rolls, and puts together a salad. There’s tomato and barbecue sauces, mustard, hot chilli sauce, and chutney.
“Wine.” She comes up to Kim and presses a glass of red into her hand. “I think we’ve earned it.” She sinks into the chair next to Kim.
Kim taps her glass to Danika’s. “We have. But the hard work is done now. We just have to wait for our chefs to present us with a gourmet meal of burned sausages.”
“Lucky we have plenty of salad.” Danika grins as a shout from Bella tells them that another sausage has met a fiery end.
“Lucky we bought double the amount of sausages we need.” Kim focuses on Danika, who’s leaning forward, staring at the flames as if they can foretell the future. Maybe they can. Probably better than Suze’s tarot cards, anyway.
“Are you okay?” She touches Danika’s forearm with her free hand. “You seem…I don’t know…a little tense.” She sucks a breath. There’s one obvious reason Danika could be tense. “If you’re worried about sharing a tent with me, please don’t be. I’ll keep on my side of the tent. I’ll be as well-behaved as a nun at a prayer meeting.”
Danika’s mouth twitches up in a smile, one that spreads to the fine skin at the corner of her eyes. “That’s not much of a recommendation. I went to Catholic school, and Sister Lucia was caught reading a spicy romance inside her prayer book. One of those books with a bare-chested man with flowing golden locks on the cover.”
“What happened?” Danika is back to relaxed, and Kim is happy to encourage that.
“Nothing.” Danika turns her head to look at Kim. “It was only one row of girls who could see the cover. She’d hidden it pretty well. And we all agreed that if Sister Lucia wanted to read that, well, why shouldn’t she? To teenage girls, it seemed she had the dullest of lives, so if that made her happy, so be it.”
“Very mature of you. Was she ever caught?”
“Not that I knew. I transferred to the local high school soon after, which was fine.” She takes a breath. “I’m sorry if you thought I was worried about sharing a tent with you. I didn’t realise my unease was so obvious.”
Kim closes her eyes. She’d thought they were becoming closer, in ways that went beyond friendship, but it seems she was mistaken.
“It’s not what you think,” Danika continues. “I’m just trying to get my head around…something. Not a problem exactly, but something I need to accept and act on. But I’m not there yet.”
So it wasn’t her. Although Danika’s words didn’t rule it out. “Is it anything I can help with?” She pitches her voice low so the girls won’t overhear, although their giggles as they turn sausages make it unlikely they are listening.
“Not really. Not yet, anyway.” Danika continues to stare at the flames as if she’ll find the answer to her problem there.
Bella’s laugh and Cami’s snort come from their left. The girls appear proudly bearing two plates laden with burned sausages and foil-wrapped potatoes.
“We cooked them all,” Bella says.
“Only dropped four,” Cami adds.
“And ate one.” Bella side-eyes her sister, and they both giggle.
“Well, you had to make sure they’re properly cooked, didn’t you?” Kim rises and takes the tilting plate from Bella before dinner is totally lost. “Go wash your hands, and when you come back, it’s time to eat.”
Cami and Bella skip off to the amenities block, leaving Kim to lock eyes with Danika. She can’t help wishing their conversation hadn’t been cut short.
She walks to the table and adds the sausages to the food already there.
“Dani—” She frowns. “Does anyone call you Dani?”
“Only Mum. No one else would get away with it.”
“Nika?”
“Also, no.”
“Dan?”
