Contents
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
THE OUTOOR SPORTS SOCIETY
DORIAN KAPROS
POPPY KING
ANDREW MARTIN FORBES
ROSS BRIDGES
RACHELLE COLE
INTERLUDE I
ANGELICA FISHER
JENNY ADAMS
INTERLUDE II
CRAIG HUNT
NATE RICHARDS
MEGAN LO
GREGORY FRASER
INTERLUDE III
FRANCIS GREENE
RUBY MACMILLAN
INTERLUDE IV
THOMAS POPE
JOHN CAMPBELL
NICOLAS FREY
LILY JOHNSON
CASSANDRA O'DONNELL
KIRSTY WHITE
INTERLUDE V
GRACE KANG
RICHARD DEACON
CIARAN RADIN-KIRKWOOD
PAUL TOBIN
INTERLUDE VI
MAX MARSHALL
DONALD BROWN
CHLOE BETTANY
INTERLUDE VII
BETHAN KOT
MATEUSZ KOWALSKI
INTERLUDE VIII
ROBIN FRASER
INTERLUDE IX
FREDERICK SAMPSON
RUTH TOWNSEND
INTERLUDE X
AN ORGANISED ESCAPE
AFTERMATH
DIVINE RETRIBUTION
A BETRAYAL OF THE MOST IRONIC KIND
A DISORGANISED ESCAPE
AN UNWILLING PARTNERSHIP
EPILOGUE: FRIENDS ON BOTH SIDES
INSATIABLE MONSTERS EXCERPT
LINKS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 2019 Hayley Louise Macfarlane
All rights reserved.
Published by Macfarlane Lantern Publishing, 2019
Glasgow, Scotland
No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Under no circumstances may any part of this book be photocopied for resale.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.
Cover Art Copyright © 2019 Howlin Owl Illustrations and Hayley Louise Macfarlane
THE OUTOOR SPORTS SOCIETY
Poppy
It was just three weeks until the annual Outdoor Sports Society retreat and Poppy, the president, was screwed.
The retreat was always in mid-May. Any later and it interfered with final year student graduations; any earlier and, of course, most of the members would have to miss the trip for exams.
Poppy King had booked somewhere two months ago, thrilled that she had actually organised something well ahead of time. But, to her dismay, the booking had fallen through just one week later due to a financial mishap that Poppy could do nothing about. Poppy hadn’t told anyone about it, convinced that she could find a replacement retreat in plenty of time.
She should have confirmed a new location at least a month ago. She’d had all semester to look. And yet here Poppy was, desperately trying to find a place that could take in all thirty club members for two weeks that was close enough to mountains and hills and rivers and caves for the club to explore to their heart’s content. Within budget.
She was screwed.
Fred will have a fit when he finds out, Poppy thought ruefully. Well, he’ll be over the moon that I’ve messed up but then he’ll have a fit.
Frederick Sampson was the vice-president of the Outdoor Sports Society and was everything that Poppy was not. Where she was reckless he was endlessly careful; where she was impulsive he had everything planned; where she was lazy he had been up since six in the morning getting ready for the day. Between the two of them they had headed up a fantastic year for their beloved club…but that didn’t mean they hated each other any less.
“He’s going to kill me…” Poppy muttered, laying her head on her arms, in front of her laptop. She was beginning to think that, finally, she would have to accept failure. This wasn’t something she could half-ass and yet that was exactly what she’d tried to do. It seemed only fitting that her laziness took all year to come back around and punish her.
The problem with this was that Poppy King never failed. It was what infuriated Fred about her so much in the first place, she knew. poppy would put in the minimal amount of effort possible, or take the least amount of responsibility for her actions, and yet everything always turned out okay for her. This extended into their shared love of high-adrenaline outdoor sports. Poppy was obsessed with free-climbing, free-diving, open water swimming…anything that didn’t restrict her with ropes and wires and life jackets. This made her very popular with many members of the club, who revelled in her recklessness.
She never fell. She never hurt herself.
Not once in her six years in the club had she so much as bruised an arm.
Fred, on the other hand, was the pinnacle of ‘do it by the books’. He knew every safety protocol, every knot that could be tied, every way to get out of a hazardous situation. This in turn also made him popular with many members of the club, particularly those who were just starting out, who liked how safe Fred made them feel.
Ultimately when the two of them had run for president last year the vote had been tight. But Poppy’s enthusiastic and lively attitude had won over the majority and so, here she was, the president.
How she wished now that Fred had won.
Cassandra O’Donnell, the social convenor, would step in to help once a location had been chosen – to organise group events, the schedule and transport – whilst Andrew Forbes, the treasurer, was responsible for making sure Poppy didn’t go over-budget.
Which won’t be a problem if I never find a place.
Normally in situations like this Poppy would call her best friend Rachelle for help. But Rachelle Cole was the secretary for the society, and had been friends with Fred almost as long as she’d been friends with Poppy. She’d feel obliged to rope Fred in to help.
Poppy would be damned before she let that happen.
For a moment she thought about asking Andrew for help but she knew something like this would overwhelm him. Though he had come on in leaps and bounds since Poppy had convinced the quiet, awkward boy he’d been four years ago into joining the society, Poppy knew that a last-minute, desperate attempt to find a retreat location would send him into a frenzied panic. She couldn’t do that to him.
She considered Nate, too, another member of the club whom Poppy was close to, but he was just as irresponsible as she was. He would never be able to help her out in time; he would only serve to distract her.
A happy distraction, though, Poppy thought longingly as she blew hair out of her face. Nate Richards and Poppy had been flirting all year, occasionally ending up in bed together after alcohol-fuelled club socials. The two of them had dyed their hair silver to win a bet, which looked great against Nate’s dark skin but Poppy had been certain washed her out. She had since dyed her hair back to its original ash-brown colour, though she had kept a streak of silver at the front just for Nate. He joked that she looked like a superhero now, which suited Poppy just fine.
She sighed
. It seemed ridiculous to her but Poppy almost wished she had coursework to distract her from her fruitless, last-minute quest for an appropriately-priced retreat. But she had reached the end of her environmental ecology Masters degree a few months prior; all that was left now was to graduate.
With Fred. Ugh.
For Fred and Poppy had known each other ever since they started their undergraduate degrees as fresh-faced eighteen-year-olds. When they had ended up on the exact same course – and then the same Masters course – Poppy decided that Fred had been placed on Earth as some kind of desperate measure by the universe to keep her in check. He was in her classes. Her tutorials. Her club. Her social circles.
And yet they could not stand each other. Not once over the past five and a half years had they reached any kind of friendly compromise, aside from the front they put up to run the society together.
Though Poppy didn’t want to say goodbye to her time at the club, she was more than eager to move on to the next section of her life, which she was determined to ensure Frederick Sampson would not be a part of.
But even that thought caused Poppy to wince; she had no idea what she wanted to do after she graduated, after all. It wasn’t as if she was especially keen to use her degree for anything. She was more than tempted to jet off to Australia and learn how to scuba-dive. Right now her life plans extended only as far as summer, when Poppy would move back to her parents’ house for a few months whilst she worked out what to do next.
For what felt like the hundredth time in the past fifteen minutes she refreshed her emails for want of anything productive to do. Poppy perked up in interest when a new email appeared, with the heading ‘Outdoor Sports Facility – Opening Month Deals’. She checked the email address it had been sent from; it didn’t look like spam. Curiosity having overcome her, Poppy opened the email.
It read:
Dear Poppy King,
The Highlands Adrenaline Sports Facility is due to open in three weeks. Due to some unfortunate setbacks the group we had booked in for the first two weeks have had to cancel, leaving the centre available for hire during this time. We are keen to get a group in to replace the cancellation in order to get the word out about the state-of-the-art facility that my team have worked so hard to create.
To that end, I would be willing to offer a marked discount on the cost of hiring the facility if your university society would be open to the possibility of making use of the centre and, if all goes well, help to spread the word to similar societies about us. The facility is fully catered and residential; all expenses are included in the price of hiring the centre.
If this is something you would be interested in then I would love to hear from you!
Kind Regards,
Dorian Kapros
Facility Manager
Poppy had to read the email through several times before the words finally sank in. She got plenty of emails about outdoor centres to her presidential email, of course, but most of them were far too expensive or hopelessly far away or were run down beyond repair. As a result, the offer this Dorian Kapros had put on the table seemed too good to be true.
And yet…
Pulling out her phone, Poppy typed in the contact number the centre manager had provided with his email. No doubt the centre – if it were brand new – would be far too expensive to hire even with a discount, but Poppy would never know if she didn’t ask.
Poppy’s heart was beating far too quickly as she waited for the call to go through, making her weirdly aware of her blood pumping around her entire body. It was an uncomfortable feeling. When the other end of the line clicked, signalling that the call had been accepted, Poppy almost jumped out of her skin. It surprised the other people in the library who were desperately studying for their exams; they glared at her until Poppy hurriedly ran away from her desk to take the call in the corridor.
“Hello, this is Poppy King!” she said, slightly too quickly and loudly. “I just got an email through about your centre and I had a few –”
A low, musical laugh cut right through Poppy’s rushed sentence. She stopped talking immediately, entranced by the sound.
“I never expected to hear from you within five minutes of sending the email, Miss King. I’m glad you called.”
“Is this – is this Mr Kapros?” Poppy asked, stammering a little despite herself. The man’s voice was potentially one of the most enticing things she had ever heard, which only caused her heart to beat faster.
“Call me Dorian. Now, Poppy – can I call you Poppy?”
It took Poppy a beat too long to reply. “Of course!” she eventually let out, feeling entirely like a fifteen-year-old idiot instead of a twenty-four-year-old woman who should know better.
Dorian laughed again. “I’m assuming you’re calling because you think my offer must come with some kind of a catch?”
Poppy nodded for nobody but herself to see. “I’ve never heard of your centre before, Mr – Dorian – but since it’s so new I’m assuming that even with a discount it’ll likely be too expensive for my club.”
“On the contrary, I’d much prefer to have a group in for our opening weeks even at a much reduced price than have nobody in at all. I’m happy to work with whatever budget you have.”
“Are you…serious?”
“Absolutely. I’ve sent you through a full brochure of the centre for you to peruse. My apologies; I should have attached it to my original email. Everything has just been a bit chaotic up here, what with the cancellation and all.”
“You definitely have space for thirty overly-loud, excitable university students?” Poppy asked, the hammering of her heart filling her with excitement.
Could this beautiful-sounding stranger really be the solution to all my problems? she thought, desperate to believe that he was.
It sounded too good to be true.
“Of course, Poppy,” he reassured. “We’re trying to target ourselves towards larger groups so your club is a perfect fit. I’ll be on hand for the entirety of your stay, along with some instructors who know the surrounding terrain really well, but other than that your group can feel free to do what they wish.”
“Um…is alcohol permitted?” Poppy asked, feeling as if she was looking a gift horse in the mouth. But she knew more than a few members of the club who would kill her if she chose a dry retreat venue.
“Just so long as you don’t try and use the indoor climbing equipment whilst inebriated, I encourage it.”
Her eyes widened. “You have indoor climbing stuff? So you’re not just an outdoor centre?”
“See, this was why I should have sent you the brochure first,” Dorian said apologetically. “We have a fully-equipped indoor climbing suite, along with both indoor and outdoor pools, a gym and a sauna. And a couple of hot tubs.”
“And you’re sure you want my club anywhere near this place?”
Dorian laughed once more; Poppy melted a little. She was past caring about how idiotic she felt. “Honestly, I’m the one who asked you to hire the place. I’m not going to suddenly change my mind.”
“So this would be the two weeks beginning the thirteenth of May?”
“Yes.”
Poppy grinned. “Then I guess we have a deal.”
“Excellent! I’ll send through a contract and we can get the paperwork sorted as soon as possible. Thank you for responding so quickly, Poppy; I can’t tell you how happy I am that a club with as many promising athletes as yours has will be using my facility.”
She paused. “Wait, you know about us?”
“I saw a few articles about you guys in a magazine I read,” he admitted. “I’d been meaning to email for a while, in reality. Secretly I’m rather pleased the other group cancelled.”
Oh, this guy is smooth, Poppy thought. Every word out of his mouth is pure flattery. I could get used to this.
“I guess we have a reputation to uphold, then,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even.
He chuckled. “No pressure whatsoever!
” There was the smallest of pauses before Dorian added on, “I look forward to meeting you, Poppy King.”
Poppy mouthed along to his words as he said them, her body positively buzzing with anticipation.
“The same to you, Dorian,” she replied, before regretfully hanging up the call.
Poppy had never said anything so sincere in her life.
Looking through the brochure Dorian had dutifully sent her, she couldn’t believe her eyes at how beautiful the Highlands sports facility was. When he’d said state of the art he’d meant it. And Casey would go wild when she saw the hot tubs. What was more, now that Poppy had been saved by some kind of divine intervention, she wouldn’t have to admit defeat to Fred and ask him to save her ass.
Poppy couldn’t wait to rub it in.
Just as soon as she Internet-stalked the man with the sexiest voice she’d ever heard in her entire life, of course.
DORIAN KAPROS
Poppy
There was nothing like a tipsy group of university students on a several-hour-long bus ride into the Highlands to make even Poppy wish to reach their destination faster. Though she was one of the tipsy students herself, she longed to get off the bus and arrive at the sports centre.
She couldn’t wait to meet Dorian Kapros.
Poppy’s Internet search had brought up surprisingly little about him, having only unearthed Dorian’s name in relation to the upcoming opening of his facility and some other, seemingly unrelated, articles which mentioned him. Something about him screamed secretly very wealthy, though Poppy wasn’t sure what. Perhaps it was her over-active imagination.
When the bus finally parked in a little town nestled deep in the Highlands Poppy sighed in relief. But when she hopped off the bus she looked around, confused.
“Where the hell is the sports centre?” she wondered aloud, for nobody to hear in particular.
“Hey there!” a voice called out. A man appeared in front of them, smiling amiably. “The name’s Patrick,” he said as he shook Poppy’s hand. “Are you the university club heading up to Kapros’ new centre?”
Poppy nodded as Rachelle got off the bus and landed on the gravelly pavement beside her. “My name’s Poppy; I’m the president. Do you know where we go from here?”
Invisible Monsters Page 1
