I grab the towel Reece lent me and turn the outside tap off, and stand there dripping in the mid-morning sunshine, trying to process everything that’s happened since yesterday morning. Twenty-four hours ago, I was on my way to open a business that I’ve been planning for months. I had a best friend, a boyfriend, a business plan, and now I’m half-naked in the middle of the Yorkshire countryside, hosing myself off like a muddy dog behind a derelict pub.
Through an open window, Reece’s cheerful whistling filters out and it makes me smile involuntarily. Garden hoses and stolen campervans and men in pineapple pyjamas who think being run over is the highlight of their week. Maybethisisn’t such a bad thing after all.
I wring out my hair, adjust my towel with as much dignity as I can muster, and check for walkers before I make the walk of shame back to the campervan.
After getting dressed, I gather Reece’s wet towel in my arms and go back up the stone steps to the Kingfisher Arms and knock on the door again. This time, there’s a yelp from inside and when Reece limps to the door, he’s shaking his hand like he’s just hammered his own fingers.
‘Last time was better. I prefer it when people who knock on my door are half-naked and soaking wet.’
I do a pretend laugh as I shove the towel back at him, but he refuses. ‘Keep it, you need it more than I do.’
I’m surprised and touched, and I can’t argue with him. I do, indeed, need a decently sized towel. ‘Thank you for this. And for… being such a gentleman and not making that any more awkward than it was.’
He laughs and then points towards a field to the right of the pub. ‘Imight’ve been a gentleman, but that sheep over there was having a right good gawp.’
Sure enough, thereisa sheep still staring over the nearest wall, and it does look a bit traumatised. I wave to it and when it sees me looking, it bleats forlornly but keeps watching us.
‘You’ve made a friend.’
‘Good, I could do with a new one,’ I mutter.
‘It’s a pervert sheep who likes seeing people naked. It hasn’t been this excited since the naturist ramblers group came through.’
‘Please tell me you’re joking.’
He doesnotconfirm that, and the thought of naked ramblers and a pervert sheep is my undoing, and I couldn’t stop the laugh that bursts out if I tried. I end up laughing so hard that he’s laughing too, but probably in that nervous way of someone humouring you when really they’re wondering if you’ve lost every single one of your marbles or only half of them.
He even laughs at my attempts to get myself back under control, but it’s too late for me. My eyes are watering and the more I try to stop laughing, the funnier it all seems.
His eyes are shining and his grin is impossibly wide as I take a deep breath and try to compose myself. No perverted sheep has ever beenthatfunny.
I should go, but every time I see this man, I find myself lingering for longer than necessary. ‘Are you okay? It sounded like you hurt something then?’
When he raises a questioning eyebrow, I add, ‘There was a yelp.’
‘You’ll get used to it. I’m a very yelpy person. Generally, if you hear a yelp, just ignore it. If you hear uncontrolled screaming after the yelp, call for help because I’ll have accidentally cut off some vital limb or other.’
Again, Ireallyhope he’s joking.
He’s leaning against the doorframe with his bad leg lifted off the floor, and I nod towards it, but he tells me it’s fine before I even have a chance to ask. I hold his gaze for a moment, trying to think of something I can do for him, some way to repay his kindness, but he assures me he’s all set on the lukewarm tea and out-of-date Pot Noodle front.
‘I should go.’ I say it aloud this time to force myself to stop lingering and ignore the reluctance I feel at the thought of walking away. I like his bright-side-coded outlook; it makesmefeel more capable of looking on the bright side too. ‘I need to figure out what’s wrong with the van.’
‘At a guess, the water tank’s empty.’
‘Maybe,’ I say, wondering how the heck you refill a campervan’s water tank and if my ancient laptop survived Jared’s throw-out so I can google it. ‘No, wait, there’s some sort of recycling system where it takes the used water and purifies it in an endless loop of water.’
Why didn’t I pay more attention to Jared when he was going on about the wonders of his beloved campervan? If only I had foreseen that one day I’d steal the thing and end up having to figure this stuff out on my own while pretending I know everything aboutmyvan thatIown.
‘Ahh, I see.’ He rubs his chin like he’s thinking it over. ‘Powered by what?’
Why does no one coach you for situations like this? I wrack my brain, trying to sift through Jared’s endless monologues that I filtered out because cars and vans have never interested me, and being in a relationship with a mechanic tends to come with a lot of info about things he understood and I didn’t.
‘Could it be the solar panel on the roof?’ Reece suggests, looking down the steps towards the van.
‘Itcouldbe…’
‘Ah ha.’ He holds a finger up like he’s had a lightbulb moment. ‘Pop quiz time – what are solar panels powered by?’
