Bed of Ice

by Sk Quinn

  Patrick throws his fern leaves onto the fire. ‘Here.’ He hands me a canteen of water. ‘You should drink. Stay hydrated.’

  I take a long drink.

  ‘We should get up there before it gets dark,’ says Patrick, looking at the sky. ‘It’s already early afternoon. It’ll be dark by five. We only have a few hours.’

  ‘What happens when it gets dark?’

  ‘Nothing much out here. The animals aren’t dangerous. But we don’t want to be trekking around at night. That’s when accidents happen to people who don’t know what they’re doing.’

  ‘You said you’d stop patronising me.’

  ‘For an hour. Your hour’s up.’

  23

  We spend the next few hours trekking through the woods.

  Patrick points out the different birds and tells me about the tracks in the mud.

  And then we walk into a part of the woods that’s covered in bluebells. It’s so beautiful that I stop walking just to stare.

  ‘Wow,’ I say, looking at the carpet of purple-blue petals. ‘This is just amazing.’

  ‘The day after I met you,’ says Patrick, ‘I took a walk in the woods. And I saw bluebells. It was like the forest was reminding me of you.’

  ‘Why Patrick, are you becoming romantic all of a sudden?’

  ‘Just telling the truth.’

  ‘Thank you. I’m happy these flowers reminded you of me. They’re gorgeous. My favourite colour, actually.’

  The wind blows a clump of bluebells from their stalks, and Patrick stoops to pick them up. He hands them to me.

  ‘I think the forest wants you to have these. Every woman has her own flower – that’s what they say around here. This one has to be yours.’

  ‘Why?’ I ask.

  ‘They light up the woods,’ says Patrick. ‘And they’re tough enough to survive the snow.’

  ‘But I hate the cold.’

  ‘And yet you survive it.’

  At dusk we have dinner – more of the grouse from earlier, some wild garlic, dandelion leaves and hot cocoa.

  Then we start walking again, me still clutching my flowers.

  ‘How far are we from camp?’ I ask.

  ‘Not far.’

  As the light fades, it starts to rain.

  ‘See?’ says Patrick, as we walk through the trees. ‘I told you the weather was warming up.’

  ‘It doesn’t feel very w-warm to me,’ I stammer, as the wind blows freezing water onto my face.

  ‘You’re cold?’ Patrick leads me over a slippery rock face.

  ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘Of course not. It’s not even snowing. Come on.’ He grips my hand tighter. ‘We won’t be out for much longer.’

  We trek towards a looming rock face.

  At its foot is a shadowy cave.

  ‘I take it this is where we’re sleeping?’ I ask, as we get closer to the dark hole in the wall.

  There’s a stack of firewood just by the entrance and a charred black ring, which I guess is a fire pit.

  ‘Yes.’

  We head inside.

  I rest my bluebells on a little rock ledge.

  On the floor is a ragged deer fur. There are three water canteens in one corner and a fishing rod.

  ‘Where’d the deer hide come from?’ I ask, seeing dried blood on its edges. ‘I thought you wanted to protect the deer out here.’

  ‘I didn’t kill it,’ says Patrick. ‘A poacher shot it. I chased the poacher off, but it was too late for the deer. So I broke its neck and skinned it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You respect the forest. You don’t leave an animal in pain. That’s why poachers don’t belong out here. All they want to do is take. They don’t understand the laws of the forest.’

  ‘Which are?’

  ‘You only take what you need.’

  ‘And you really sleep out here?’ I ask, as we head deeper into the cave.

  ‘Whenever I can.’

  ‘What have you got against indoors?’ I say, looking around the moist grey walls.

  ‘It’s not real,’ Patrick replies.

  ‘Not real?’

  ‘Fluffy pillows and soft sheets. They just take us away from what we really are.’ His deep voice booms around the cave.

  ‘And what are we really?’

  ‘Animals.’

  ‘I don’t get you, Patrick,’ I say, my voice echoing around the cave walls. ‘You’ve been brought up in a castle. Had every privilege. The best schooling. Good food. And yet you like sleeping rough in the woods.’

  ‘Love sleeping rough in the woods,’ says Patrick.

  ‘Did you paint that?’ I ask, seeing a shadowy bird shape smudged on one wall. It looks like it’s been drawn with charcoal.

  Patrick nods. ‘He’s an eagle for my brother.’

  ‘Oh. That’s lovely.’ I give a little shiver.

  ‘You’re cold?’ says Patrick.

  ‘A little.’

  ‘Take your clothes off.’

  I laugh. ‘You don’t mince your words do you?’

  ‘I’m serious. You’ll warm up much better without wet clothes on. Here.’

  He comes towards me and I feel the warmth of him against my cheek.

  He unzips my jacket and hangs it on a jutting rock. Then he takes off his rucksack and jacket and hangs his jacket next to mine.

  ‘Now take your boots off.’

  ‘You really do love ordering me around don’t you?’ I say, sitting on deer fur and unlacing my boots.

  ‘You should be thanking me,’ he says. ‘If it weren’t for me ordering you around you’d still be shivering right now.’

  ‘And if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be in the woods in the first place.’

  ‘Me and the woods go together. Which means now you and the woods go together.’

  ‘Says who?’

  ‘Says me. Because you’re mine now.’ He looks at the two jackets hanging together. ‘Look. We’ve already moved in together.’

  I find myself smiling. ‘You know, when you asked me to move in with you I imagined living in your castle.’

  ‘This cave wasn’t what you expected?’

  I laugh. ‘Not quite. But it’s okay. I like seeing this part of you.’

  ‘Good.’ Patrick takes my face and kisses my forehead. ‘Stay here out of the rain. I’ll light a fire. It’ll be dark soon.’

  24

  Within minutes, Patrick has a small fire going in the pit outside the cave.

  The fire crackles in the rain.

  I come to the cave entrance and watch as Patrick crouches by the fire.

  ‘So where are we sleeping, caveman?’ I ask.

  ‘On the fur.’

  ‘No covers?’ I ask, wrapping my arms around myself.

  ‘Of course you’ll have a cover.’ Patrick smoothes damp blond hair behind his ears.

  ‘And what will that be? A blanket of woven feathers and ferns?’

  ‘A little less rustic than that. Nylon.’

  ‘Nylon?’

  ‘Sleeping bags.’ Patrick goes to his rucksack. ‘Here.’

  He pulls out two tightly rolled sleeping bags.

  ‘Separate sleeping bags? Very proper.’

  ‘Funnily enough, I don’t own a double sleeping bag. I’d never considered taking a woman out here with me. Until I met you.’

  ‘So I should be flattered?’

  ‘Honoured.’

  I laugh and then I stop suddenly. ‘Wait. So … I’m the only girl you’ve ever brought out here?’

  ‘Yup.’ Patrick rolls the sleeping bags out on the fur.

  ‘I like that.’

  ‘Thought you would,’ says Patrick.

  I throw off my boots and flex my toes in the cool air.

  ‘Sometimes I find it hard to believe we’re together,’ I say.

  ‘So you keep saying,’ says Patrick.

  ‘Wouldn’t you be worried if you were me?’

  ‘No.’

  He p
uts his arms around me and I sink against his warm chest.

  I can hear his heart beating and his steady breathing.

  ‘You’re tired,’ Patrick whispers, stroking my hair.

  ‘Yes,’ I admit. ‘It’s been a long day. But a good one.’

  ‘I’m glad about that.’ He lets me go and waves at the sleeping bags. ‘Your sleeping quarters, your ladyship.’

  I smile. ‘Why thank you, your lordship.’

  I crouch by a sleeping bag and climb inside.

  The air is fresh and cool in the cave. It feels good to be lying down.

  ‘Are you going to come and sleep next to me, caveman?’ I ask.

  ‘On this side,’ says Patrick, moving the other sleeping bag nearer the entrance.

  ‘So you can protect me from the wolves?’

  Patrick laughs. ‘I told you. There aren’t any dangerous animals out here. Except for me.’ He crouches down and slides into the sleeping bag beside me. ‘But I’ll protect you from dangerous people.’

  We both roll to face each other.

  The fire outside throws orange and yellow shadows everywhere.

  Shadows dance over Patrick’s handsome face.

  ‘How do you like my cave?’ he asks.

  ‘There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.’ And I mean it.

  We gaze at each other as rain falls and the fire flickers.

  I want to lie like this, staring at Patrick, forever. But soon my eyes feel heavy. And I drift off to sleep.

  25

  When I wake up, the fire has gone out and everything is dark.

  I hear Patrick’s breathing, slow and steady, and I feel safe. Protected. Nothing can hurt me while Patrick is here.

  But I have a problem.

  I need to pee.

  Maybe I can just go back to sleep, but … no, I really need to go.

  It looks sooo dark outside. A bit scary, actually.

  Maybe I should wake Patrick up. But that will prove beyond doubt that I’m a silly, helpless female and I’m getting sick of him thinking that.

  Pull yourself together Sera. You’ve been to the toilet in the dark before. And there are no wild animals in these woods. Patrick said so.

  Silently, I slip out of my sleeping bag and creep past Patrick.

  Groping around, I find my boots.

  I expect Patrick to stir as I put my boots on, but he doesn’t.

  I make it to the cave entrance and look out at the dark night.

  There’s a silvery moon.

  Okay. Here I go.

  I walk towards a patch of trees, slipping a little on the wet rock. Wow. It’s cold tonight.

  I see a giant oak tree, its roots creeping down into a silvery stream that splashes along. There are ferns all around.

  Perfect.

  I crouch behind it and wee on the mud.

  Just as I’m doing up my cargo trousers, I hear something. A weird, rustling noise.

  Whoa.

  I stand and listen.

  The rustling gets louder.

  Then I hear a weird, grunting growl.

  Oh my god.

  I let out a scream.

  The ferns move and I see something large and black running towards me.

  I scream again and start running, tripping and stumbling over mud and tree roots. In my panic, I tread the wrong way on a fallen branch and come tumbling down.

  Before I know what’s happening, I’m rolling down a leafy slope. I feel the splash of freezing cold water.

  ‘Oh!’ I leap up, wet and freezing, my teeth chattering.

  Panic takes over.

  26

  I don’t know which way I came from or where to run.

  I splash down the stream, turning this way and that, my heart thumping like a drill.

  Then I hear Patrick’s voice, low and full of laughter. ‘Funny time to go for a swim.’

  I whirl around.

  ‘Patrick? Is it you?’

  ‘It’s me.’ Patrick bounds down the slope and lifts me out of the stream. He clambers up the bank, me bobbing against his chest.

  I don’t realise I’m crying until we’re moving through the trees.

  I turn into his chest and sob, feeling like the stupidest girl that ever lived.

  ‘It’s okay,’ says Patrick, holding my shivering body tight. ‘It’s all right. You’re fine. You just fell into the water, that’s all.’

  ‘There was s-something in the bushes,’ I stammer. ‘A wild animal.’

  Patrick laughs into my hair. ‘It was only a badger. He might give you a nasty bite but nothing worse.’

  ‘How do you know it was a badger?’

  ‘I was watching you.’

  ‘Watching me?’

  ‘Did you think I’d let you venture out into the woods by yourself?’

  ‘You mean you were watching me the whole time? While I was—’

  Patrick nods.

  ‘But you were asleep.’

  ‘No I wasn’t. I stayed within a few feet of you. Until you ran off. You can certainly run when you need to.’

  ‘This isn’t funny. I was really scared.’

  ‘Maybe you’ll learn not to go out by yourself again.’

  ‘I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t want you thinking I can’t do anything by myself.’

  ‘Out here you need my help. Or else you’ll end up lost and soaking wet.’

  I look up at him, trying to hold onto what little pride I have left. ‘I could have found my way back.’

  ‘I doubt that.’

  ‘I could—’

  ‘Okay then. Which way back to the rock face?’

  ‘Um. That way.’

  ‘Wrong. Come on, song bird. Let’s get you dry.’

  27

  Back at the cave, Patrick gets the fire going again.

  ‘Take off your clothes,’ he commands.

  I willingly wiggle out of my soaking wet cargo trousers, socks and jumper. Patrick hangs them around the cave.

  ‘All your clothes,’ he tells me, nodding at my bra and panties.

  ‘You want me standing in the middle of a cold cave completely naked?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes. Take those off.’ He nods at my underwear. Then he unzips a sleeping bag. ‘And put this on.’

  I hesitate.

  ‘Hurry up or you’ll catch hypothermia.’

  Reluctantly I take off my bra and panties. I’m all elbows and knees, trying to cover myself up.

  Patrick laughs. ‘You haven’t got anything I haven’t seen before.’

  I blush. ‘I know, but …’

  ‘You’re embarrassed to be naked?’

  ‘Yes. When someone’s staring at me.’

  ‘I don’t know why.’ Patrick watches me for a moment, his eyes softening and his smile growing. ‘Believe me, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.’

  I shiver, and the softness leaves his eyes.

  ‘Get over there by the fire,’ he says, bundling the sleeping bag around me. ‘Before you catch your death.’

  Patrick throws the fur beside the fire, and I sit on it, wrapped in the sleeping bag.

  As I sit watching the flames, Patrick boils hot cocoa with butter in his cooking pot.

  He hands me the pot wrapped in my wet sock, and I drink from it gratefully.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, feeling my insides warm up.

  Patrick sits beside me, throwing more kindling onto the fire.

  ‘I hate that you’re shy of me,’ he says, watching the burning wood.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Just now.’

  ‘Oh.’ I take another sip of hot chocolate. ‘Well, um … I don’t think that’s so unusual. I mean, aren’t most people shy, being naked?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Haven’t you ever been shy about your body?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Not even a tiny bit?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘I guess you don’t have a lot to be shy about.’ I glance at his big arms
and broad shoulders.

  ‘And I just told you. Nor do you.’

  ‘What about if someone is gawping at you?’ I say.

  Patrick laughs. ‘It wouldn’t make any difference. But for your information, I wasn’t gawping at you. I was looking at the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever been lucky enough to see.’

  ‘You really can be charming when you want to be.’

  ‘Honest, Seraphina. I’m being honest.’

  ‘And you’ve really never been shy about being naked? Not even when you were younger?’

  ‘Do we have to go over this again? I just told you—’

  ‘Prove it,’ I say, taking another sip of cocoa. ‘Take your clothes off and I’ll watch you. See how you like it.’

  ‘Not a problem.’ Patrick stands and pulls his jumper and t-shirt over his head.

  I was not expecting that.

  I gawp at his beautiful chest, the muscles all tanned and taut.

  ‘You’re staring,’ says Patrick.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay.’

  His hands go to his cargo trousers. ‘What the lady wants, the lady gets. You want to see me naked, my wish is your command.’

  ‘Oh lord.’ I cover my eyes, laughing as he drops his trousers.

  Then I stop laughing.

  ‘You’re not wearing any underwear.’

  ‘Why would I? Out here, it’s just one more thing to soak up the rain.’

  In the firelight, the silver moon casts shadows over Patrick’s body, and it’s just … just … I’m lost for words.

  Patrick stands over me, one hand on his hip.

  ‘See?’ says Patrick. ‘Not embarrassed.’

  He stands there solid. And huge. Everywhere.

  ‘Yes,’ I squeak, looking up at him.

  ‘Lie down.’

  For once I don’t question him. I can’t. I’m just mesmerised by his body in the moonlight.

  As I lie down on the fur, the sleeping bag falls away.

  I’m cold but I don’t care.

  Patrick kicks my ankles apart and kneels between my thighs.

  I see the stern look in his eyes and feet the heat of him on my skin.

  ‘Turn over,’ he says.

  I do, rolling onto my stomach and feeling Patrick’s hot hand push my hair aside.

  ‘You belong to me now,’ he whispers into my ear.

  ‘Yes,’ I murmur, feeling the hardness of his him against my buttocks and lower back.