He nuzzles in closer, tickling me with his fresh stubble. “I promise. You do. Stop thinking about it. Just let what happens, happen.”
I don’t respond after that. The weather has settled down again and we’re bathed in total darkness. James reaches up behind us and fiddles with the zip. I’m unsure why he’s doing it until I open my eyes. A bright sky, littered with stars, glows down on us between the thick trees. We stare at it in soft silence, watching its peaceful twinkling as we drift off to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
It’s the gentle murmur of voices that wakes me. At first, they’re incorporated into part of my dream. I’m ordering a coffee, the sweet smell of delicious caramel lattes wafting into my nostrils. I ask for a millionaire shortbread to go with that too. Oh, how I long for sugar and caffeine. But the lady serving me is asking me questions. I keep blinking at her until I realise it’s a man’s voice coming out of her lips. I startle awake.
James is talking too. There aretwovoices.
“We’re here on a work trip, of sorts. It was kind of unplanned and unexpected.”
The other voice mutters, “Christ.”
“Our boss is… insane. Thought it would be some kind of fun team-building challenge to drop us Londoners off in the middle of nowhere with two badly packed bags and a fifty-pound note.”
“That’s fucking wild,” the man replies. “This area is hiking on steroids. It’s for the pros.”
“Mate, I know. We’re a bit worse for wear. That was our third night.”
“You’re kidding? Hope you’re going to sue.”
James snorts. “We’ll see, huh?”
“Well, look. You want to follow this path through the forest about another three miles and you’ll find a road. Could hitch a lift from there.”
“Yeah? Great. Cheers for that.”
I turn around in the sleeping bag, and consider climbing out, but decide to leave James to the talking, partly because I must look like hell right now. Straight up cavewoman. My hair is all over the place. I occasionally touch it and can feel how knotted it has become. It’s like in the noughties when we thought it would be a good idea to back brush our ponytails for discos, then spent three days washing and combing it back out.
Oh no. Last night. There’s no hiding from it. We’ll have to talk about it today. What happens now? What next? Thisthingwe have going on between us. How do we work together on Monday?
James is still talking to the other voice. “Any chance you have a phone we could borrow?”
“Sorry, pal. When I go wild camping, I go wild.”
“That’s pretty mental,” James mutters.
“Your boss didn’t give you phones? How strange. Was he trying to kill you?”
“We had our own but mine died the first day out here and my…hers…” He coughs to clear his throat. This is going to be so awkward. He doesn’t even know what to call me. “Got wet in the river.”
“Ah, right,” the voice replies with limited interest. “Well, like I said. An hour’s walk in that direction will lead you to a pretty busy road. I’m sure someone’ll help you out.”
And with that, footsteps crunching across twig-strewn terrain fade off into the distance. When I don’t hear any sound from James, only the rustling of leaves in the morning breeze, the trickle of the stream, I unzip the bottom of the tent and pop my head out. He’s nowhere to be seen. But he can’t be far. He was literally just talking to some random guy. I didn’t make that up. Did I?
“James?” I call out.
“Yeah?” he replies within close proximity.
“Where are you?”
“Here.” Helpful as ever.
I sigh, pulling on my clothes, not bothering with a bra just yet, using folded arms for support instead. I try to smooth down my hair a bit and wipe the eye bogeys away with my fingers. Then, climbing out into the morning sunshine, I’m instantly warmed in its generous glow.
Once I’m standing, he’s pretty easy to spot. There, sitting comfortably in the middle of the stream, the water circling around him like he’s a boulder in the way, is James Boatman. Almost naked, apart from his very damp boxer shorts now practically submerged.
I pull a humoured face. “What are you doing?”
