This is the same island that my crappy apartment is on. How can that be possible?
When I peek to see if anyone has caught me gawking, I catch James frowning at me suspiciously. I give him awhat? face. He looks away, huffing as he leans further back into his chair, rubbing his chin. He’s possibly more disgruntled by this whole thing than I am.
Good. Probably means I’m winning.
After another hour of venturing into the deep wilderness, I check my phone to see that, firstly I have no signal (shit, Ihave no signal) and secondly, we’ve been driving for over two hours.
I’m not sure why neither of us have mustered the courage to question Michael about all this yet. Maybe I should? But I don’t… I would hate for him to think I’m complaining. And at least the scenery is nice. Besides, if James thinks I’m ok with all this, then hopefully it will psych him out and he’ll be the first one to buckle and ask.
Or even better, complain.
Another twenty minutes roll past. I keep checking my phone. I haven’t had signal for a while now. It appears phone companies don’t know this place exists. I mean I guess I didn’t a few hours ago.
I’m just about to cave, ask Michael how much longer to go, when the van makes an alarming sputtering sound. My heart lurches as it practically hops along the road. I grab the seat and pray for my life. Luckily Michael handles it well, pulling off to the side in a well-placed layby right by an expansive lake.
“Oh, what was that!?” Michael exclaims, frowning briefly before turning his head to look at us with a wide smile. “Not to worry. I’m sure it’s nothing. James, be a good lad and come check with me.”
Of course, Gloatman leaps at the opportunity to help him, pulling the door back and bouncing onto the verge. Inside, I tap my foot against the seat in front, waiting for a report. They mutter outside for a moment before I peer out to see James running his fingers through his hair in that agitated way I often see him doing at the end of bad months when it comes to reporting his sales figures.
This is not good.
Michael pokes his head back through the doors. “It’s bad news I’m afraid. We’ve blown a tyre.”
“Shit,” I say. “What the hell do we do now?”
I get up from my seat, hopping down from the minivan, and walk round to where James is uselessly blinking at the blown tyre. I stop beside him, looking to Michael. “Well, do you have breakdown cover? Can you call the hotel? Surely, they’ll sort the insurance.”
He sighs. “Probably, but no signal.” He waves his phone at me.
“Tell me you have signal?” I say to my enemy.
James props his hands on his hips, giving me a disbelieving glance. “Ah, yes. Despite the fact nobody else has it… Don’t worry, Felicity, I have a super phone.”
“Don’t be a dick.”
I cross my arms, staring at the wheel like it might magically fix itself. For a moment there’s a stunned silence whilst we all rack our brains for ideas.
“Does anyone know how to change a tyre?” James asks.
More silence.
“Is there even a spare one?” he adds.
Michael looks around the van, underneath, behind the back doors, and returns with one of his dazzling smiles. This smile makes my blood fizz. I can’t help my face from contorting into an angry stare. How did this man think it was a good idea to drive us out into the middle arse-end of nowhere without a spare tyre? I bite my lip again and fold my arms around my middle a bit tighter to prevent a full-scale meltdown.
We’re stuck. We’re stuck here in…God knows where!And we’re down one too many tyres with no signal and no hope.
Oh shit – are we going to die!? We might bloody die!
“Stop freaking out,” James mutters without even looking at me.
I realise my breathing has indeed increased to an audible level. I puff out a long stream of air in the hope it might settle my lungs. I like the countryside. I’m a big fan of sheep and grass and trees, but I also like to be within walking distance of civilisation. We must be miles away from anything here.
“I’m not freaking out,actually. Butwhat the fuckdo we do now?” I whisper-hiss back.
“Someone will have to follow the road up to the nearest village,” Michael says. “I’d better stay in case help arrives early.”
Sheer horror crosses James’ face. His mouth opens slightly, his eyes widening as if he’s just been confronted by a ghost. “I’ll go on my own!” he yells about three octaves louder than necessary.
