Isla swings her backpack onto one shoulder. “Are you coming with us?” she asks.
“Not today,” I say. “You’ve got the instructors and two teachers for that.”
Freya nods. “We will be assigned glamorous adult responsibilities.”
Theo narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Like what?”
“Tidying the campsite, washing up, chopping firewood” Freya says.
“And emptying the toilets,” I add with a grimace.
Theo makes a face like we’ve just suggested he cleans the toilets himself. “That sounds boring and gross.”
“It absolutely is,” I agree.
The whistle blows from the centre of the clearing and the instructors begin gathering the kids into their groups. Within minutes the quiet morning dissolves into chaos again as maps are handed out and backpacks are adjusted.
Theo hugs Freya quickly. “Bye Mum!”
“Stick with your group.”
“I will!”
Isla throws her arms around me next.
“Don’t get lost,” I say.
“Dad,” she replies with deep patience. “We have compasses.”
Fair. Within a few minutes the entire group disappears down the narrow path into the forest, bright waterproofs flickering between the trees as the instructors lead them deeper into the hills. And suddenly the campsite is quiet again.
Freya exhales slowly beside me. “Well,” she says.
“That’s unsettling.”
“What is?”
“The silence.”
I grin. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
The teachers who stayed behind start dividing up the jobs around camp for the day.
Empty the toilets.
Chop more firewood.
Take the washing up to the main house.
Freya volunteers for washing up almost immediately. And because my brain apparently stopped functioning sometime around last night’s campfire, I volunteer too.Idiot.You are actively walking toward trouble.
Now we’re halfway up the narrow gravel path that winds away from the campsite carrying two crates full of dirty plates and mugs that clatter every time one of us adjusts our grip. The path climbs steeply through the trees, twisting back on itself as it leads toward the main house. Freya is walking a few steps ahead of me with one of the crates balanced against her hip. Which means my view is currently… Right.Focus.Look literally anywhere else. Except unfortunately she’s wearing those dark jeans again and the climb is making the fabric pull in ways that my brain is finding extremely distracting.
“Why did you volunteer for this?” she calls over her shoulder.
“Because I’m helpful. And also I didn’t want to empty the toilets.”
She laughs softly and the sound drifts back through the trees.
