When the path is low there are spots, almost like little beaches, where we can pause to fill our bottles and take a break before climbing again. I notice the lids have a strange filter in them. Hopefully this is keeping us safe from any kind of sickness. I’m reaching a point where I may need to tuck into another protein bar, but the thought of it turns my stomach. They’re all strawberry flavoured with a layer of yoghurt dried over the top. They’re chewy to the point of making your jaw ache.
I once again think about dipping a salty chip into a pot of red sauce.
“What you groaning about?” James asks, taking a sip from his bottle.
“I’m hungry but I don’t want to eat another protein bar.”
“Me neither. Although I doubt you’d want to go hunting so I haven’t suggested it.”
I laugh, exasperated, resting my hands on my hips. “Even if I was ok with murdering a wild bunny – which I’m not, by the way – how would you go about hunting, Gloatman? Do you really know how?”
James rubs the back of his neck as he takes a big gulp of air, lifting his chest high enough that his black t-shirt rises, showing a little patch of belly-button hair and firm stomach. I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to look away. I can’t believe I had my hands and body plastered up against him last night.
“Never actually hunted anything before,” he says. “But I reckon I could start a fire.”
I frown. “Is that wise?”
“It’ll be safe. And besides, have you seen any sign of civilisation yet? Looks like we’re in for at least one more night in the wilderness.”
I want to cry.
“Don’t freak out,” he warns, pointing at me. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Are you seriously asking me that right now? I’m sure your risk-management levels are low, but mine aren’t. If there’s something for me to stress about, I’ve done it already. We could fall and injure ourselves. You might hit your head. I might hitmyhead. We could both fall and hit our heads! But worse than that, I’m going to have to shiver my arse off again for another night.”
“No, you’re not,” James says, dropping his hands to his side on an exhale. “You can sleep with me again.”
I freeze, my eyes wide like saucers. There’s no way I just witnessed him say that out loud as if it isn’t the worst thing that I’ve ever done. Does hewantme to sleep with him? Why doesn’thecare more? Why isn’thetraumatised?
“Don’t do that…” James starts.
“Oh god!” I say, grabbing at my hair hanging loosely across my shoulders. “Is this the bit where I find out you’ve been in love with me this whole time, but it’s taken you being forced into the wilderness with me for twenty-four hours to admit it?”
He blinks.
“Oh, shit!You love me!”
“Ha!” James’ face morphs into this big fat clown grin. He leans forwards as he laughs, resting his hands on his knees. His laughter bubbles into full-on fits as he struggles to control himself. Finally, he rises again, wiping his eyes, making that stupid “ahhhh” sound. “That’s the funniest… No, wait. That’s the only funny thing you’ve ever said.”
I pull a face, folding my arms across my chest. “No, then, I take?”
He restores his face to a calm expression. “No, Felicity. And I cannot stress this enough. You’re annoying as fuck. Running up to this work trip, I had such little respect for you, I even contemplated abandoning you at the layby and taking off with the money. For the last six years you’ve repeatedly done anything you can to make my life harder at work.”
“No, I haven’t!” I object.
“You’re a nightmare; you actively attempt to discredit all my ideas.”
“Because they affect me! And my team!” I shout. My blood is boiling.
James scoffs. “You don’t give me a chance. I was negotiating the loss of ticket revenue into the costs for my idea. I was going to make sure marketing got their piece of the pie!”
I stumble backwards, grabbing a branch for support. I’m not sure I believe him. I think about saying as much, but instead I decide to keep my mouth shut. It’s not that I don’t think he has the capacity for being good. It’s that it’s easier to continue to challenge him for the director role if I think he’s a bit of a shit.
James shakes his head, turning towards the path again, but then stops, looking across the river. “We need to be on that side,” he says, pointing. “Especially if we want this to be over with.”
“Well, we can’t cross it.”
He points to the grassy slope on the other side of the fast-flowing water. “We could climb back up that side. And the current doesn’t look as strong here.”
