‘I probably shouldn’t have told you.’ Lyndall threw Spencer a glance. ‘We’re not supposed to blur the professional lines. Parents want to know that teachers are focused on their kids, not personal dramas.’
Spencer studied the laminated safety manual she’d passed him. He didn’t want to risk meeting Clem’s gaze and having her cheeks incriminate them.
‘A little sharing is fine, especially on camp,’ he said, tucking the manual into his rucksack. ‘Now, which team are you heading up? Hiking or kayaking? Do you want Clem with you or with me?’
Lyndall blew her whistle again, gesturing to the groups. ‘You two take the water sports, I’ll handle the scavenger hunt. The lake’s barely more than waist-deep so you shouldn’t run into too much trouble.’
It was only when their group was walking ahead of them, rushing for the pick of the kayaks, that Spencer chanced a look at Clem. She had a wicked grin on her face.
‘Water sports, blurring professional lines … I had to bite my lip to keep from snorting.’
He loved seeing the light-hearted side of her, and when they strapped into their life jackets and the students paired off in the kayaks, they were the only ones left for the last two kayaks.
‘We could double up?’
He quirked an eyebrow, making her laugh again at the double entendre, then adopted the stern expression that was more commonly directed at the Year 12s when he caught them sneaking hip flasks into the formal. ‘Wouldn’t do to blur professional boundaries,’ he said gravely. ‘How about we take one each and race around the island instead? You get a head start, just keep an eye on the kids as you paddle.’
‘You’re on,’ Clem called, pushing the bright-yellow kayak into the water and leaping into it. And as she paddled away, almost losing her oar in the first few strokes, he quickly scanned the water, counting heads. He was a few students short, but as he powered through the water and rounded the island, he found the extra students, the nose of their kayaks bogged in the reeds near the bank.
‘You get that one, I’ll pull these guys out,’ he told Clem, who had already abandoned their race in favour of helping the students.
Keep your mind on the job. You’re here to make this camp the best one yet for this class, not flirt with the parent helper.But when the four stuck students were mobile again, Clem gave his kayak a shove with her oar.
‘Easy there, if I go over, I’m taking you with me.’
He could see where Harriet and Indi inherited their mischievous nature, and when she prodded his boat a second time, he let the momentum take him in her direction. Capsizing, he surfaced directly under her boat. One small movement and she tipped in too, and came up coughing and laughing, with a clump of duckweed in her hair.
‘You bugger,’ she spluttered, standing up. The water was as shallow as Lyndall had promised, like so many of the artificial lakes at camps like this, and he couldn’t help noticing the way her short-sleeved top clung to her curves underneath the lifejacket. And, though she was drenched in lake water, he could smell the perfume that he remembered from their kiss in the car park.
‘Can’t say I didn’t warn you,’ he laughed, tipping her kayak right way up and holding it steady so she could climb back in. Harriet came around the bend then, in stitches as she watched her mum clamber aboard. And as Clem sped off, her oar going faster than ever, he wondered if he’d be able to keep up with her after all.
Clem drew in a deep breath, welcoming the scent of sun-warmed gum trees and fresh mountain air. The aroma of vomit, which had been clinging to her since they got off thebus, had washed away in the lake, and now that she was in fresh clothes she felt as good as new.
How long had it been since she’d horsed around like that? As if he could sense her attention on him, Spencer turned around, giving her a salute from under his floppy broad-brimmed hat.
It was crazy that she found him even sexier in his current hiking get-up, slathered with zinc sunscreen and wearing a bumbag with the emergency medical supplies. Or was it because he had placed a hand on the shoulder of the teary fifth-grader who’d been ill in the bus earlier?
Both, she decided, speeding up to join them.
‘How far are the waterfalls?’
Spencer passed her the map. ‘Another kilometre or so.’
Clem was glad she’d brought her comfy sneakers, and she spared a thought for the poor lad in front of her. It had been mighty resourceful of Lachie to use his sneakers as an overflow container when his sick bag filled up, but the trade-off was that he was now wearing a spare pair of sneakers from the camp’s lost property cupboard while his own dried. And given that he’d tripped several times already, it seemed the stand-in shoes were a shade too big.
‘I don’t … don’t … don’t think I can make it to the w … w … waterfall,’ the boy said, teary again. ‘I want to go home.’
‘You’ve got this, Lachie. I know it. And from what the camp staff said, the view is spectacular. How about we take a breather when we get to the next lookout, have one of the muesli bars in Miss Crossley’s backpack?’
Lachie swiped at his wet cheeks. He gave Clem a resigned look and picked up his pace.
‘Your shoes will be dry tomorrow,’ she called after him. ‘Poor guy,’ she said, turning to Spencer.
‘First night’s the toughest. That’s why we run them hard from the moment we arrive—that way they fall into bed exhausted. That’s the plan anyway.’
‘Then the adults get to have their own party?’ Although Clem had agreed to be the parent helper long before she kissed Spencer, she’d since wondered if an after-dark rendezvous was out of the question.
Absolutely, totally and utterly a bad idea, she thought. But from the guilty look on Spencer’s face, she suspected the idea had also occurred to him, especially when Lyndall had assigned them neighbouring cabins.
