‘Ah. I see. I forgive you then.’
His rucksack is very large. It would probably technically described as ‘bloody ginormous’ in fact, and I see a bedroll and a tent as part of the trappings. He’s one of those snail people who carry their whole lives around on their backs. As opposed to me – mine is in my almost clapped-out VW Beetle, which I abandoned at the edge of the woods. She’s called Bettina and dates back to 1978. We met in Morocco five years ago, and I only bought her as some kind of homage to my mum. She’s done some hard miles with me in the last few years.
I need to go back and collect her later, give her some oil and water, the car equivalent of a spa break. I could have driven right into the village, but for some reason – cowardice, I think they call it – I really wanted to walk through the woods first.
I decide I’ve probably procrastinated enough now, having wasted several hours already. It’s time. I launch myself off the tree branch and manage to land with a surprising ease on the soft green grass. I do a mock stretch-and-bow, like I’ve just nailed the dismount in the Olympic vault final, and gallop down the little hill to join him on the path.
‘I’m Suzie,’ I tell him. ‘Are you going to Starshine? Well, I assume you are, because there’s nowhere else along this path. Are you doing the coastal path walk? You look like a coastal walk kind of person.’
I’m wittering slightly, because in all honesty I’m a bit nervous. I think I was only actually stuck up my tree because I was scared of leaving it. I probably could have got down at any time I wanted – I was just delaying the inevitable. And now I have yet another excuse to do that, in the form of a very dishy and supremely flirt-worthy stranger. Can’t beat a good flirt with a stranger.
‘I am going to Starshine,’ he replies simply. ‘I’m not walking the coastal path. Better be going.’
Ah. Not one for social niceties. Even more fun. He hefts his rucksack up a notch and sets off along the trail. He has very long legs and I dash a little to keep up. It’s harder to flirt if you also have to yell.
‘You look a bit more like the kind who’d run the coastal path anyway. Or do one of those Iron Man thingies. You look very fit. Like you have plenty of stamina.’
He stops dead in his tracks, frowns again, and stares directly into my eyes.
‘What’s happening here?’ he asks.
‘Doh! I’m engaging in a little gentle flirting, obviously! Don’t be alarmed, I can assure you I’m all talk. I just need the distraction.’
He shakes his head, but also slows his pace so I can walk more comfortably at his side. ‘I’m not the gentle flirting type. Or the any kind of flirting type. It’s wasted on me. I’ll just think you have some kind of condition.’
‘Funnily enough, people have assumed that about me before… So. Okay. Enough with the flirting then. Let’s keep it simple – what’s your name?’
‘Guy. Guy Keegan.’
‘Oh, wow. I know I said I’d stop, but even your name is kind of macho!’
I lower my voice to a mock-Hollywood-movie-trailer rasp and repeat his words. ‘Guy. Guy Keegan.’
‘It’s just a name. Why do you need distracting? And what’s with the fairies?’
I follow his eyeline to a little hammock that has been set up in one of the trees. A group of five tiny wooden fairies is arranged inside it, along with a slightly incongruous plastic T-Rex. I’d also noticed some earlier, peeking from branches and hiding behind hand-carved toadstools. They’re pretty and fantastical and givethe woods even more of a quirky feel. I grew up here, so I simply accept the weird without questioning it too much.
‘I don’t know. I guess they’re just chilling with their good friend, Mr Dinosaur.’
He peers at the display. ‘Huh. That wouldn’t end well in real life.’
‘It wouldn’t happen in real life though, would it? Everybody knows fairies and T-Rex’s didn’t live at the same time.Science.’
He gives me a slightly disdainful look, but wisely doesn’t argue.
‘Do you live here?’ he asks as we continue to walk.
‘I used to. I haven’t been back for a long time though. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m a bit nervous. I’m not entirely convinced I can do it.’
‘Do what?’
‘Walk back into that village.’
I realise I’m slowing my steps as I speak, as though my body is in sync with my mind and really doesn’t want me to do this either. I could just run back along to Bettina, and drive away. Nobody would be any the wiser. Nobody apart from Guy Keegan would know I was ever even here, and he doesn’t seem like the blabbermouth type.
He pauses by my side, and I expect him to either say something practical, or to simply move on without me. Instead, he gazes around him, at the woods and the flowers and the fairies, and nods.
‘I know what you mean,’ he replies, surprising me. ‘I’m not sure I can walk into that village either. I’m sure we’ve both got our reasons.’
