‘Look, Matt, I don’t believe in fate anymore. Life is just a random series of events over which we have no control.’
‘I prefer to see it as actions with consequences, and if you won’t go on this trip for yourself, then do it for Rowena. She cares about you. She wouldn’t have taken the job if I hadn’t agreed to come along.’
‘That’s blatant emotional blackmail.’
‘And I have no qualms about using it,’ he threw back, looking down at her with that strange mix of irritation and concern she’d seen before.
‘You’re going to miss the boat if you don’t go soon,’ called Rowena anxiously.
Matt’s eyes challenged her to back down. ‘Carrie’s still making up her mind about whether she dares to come along.’
Dares! The cheeky, arrogant sod. ‘I’m coming,’ declared Carrie.
‘Thank God for that,’ cried Rowena.
A few minutes later, as Matt strode off to the van and climbed behind the wheel, Carrie and Rowena exchanged a last hug.
‘Why do I feel like Bruce Willis setting off to destroy the asteroid in Armageddon?’ Carrie whispered.
‘Bruce never made it home, but you will. Now go on. You might even enjoy yourself.’
Then she was inside the van, next to Matt, wrestling with the old-fashioned seat belt. The engine revved suddenly and Dolly let out a tortured groan before kangarooing forward.
‘I thought you said you could handle these things,’ she shouted above the clattering engine.
Matt grinned at her and winked. ‘I said my mate had one once. I never said I’d driven one.’
Chapter 17
The thunderclouds gathering above the motorway seemed like towering castles of doom to Carrie. She and Matt hadn’t gone very far when they’d hit a jam. They’d just managed to get going again but Dolly’s wipers were struggling to cope with the torrents of water sluicing down her twin screens. A blinding flash rent the sky, followed by a huge clap of thunder that almost shook the van off its chassis.
But that was nothing to the storm Carrie was about to unleash on Matt after what he’d just confessed. Instead of turning off towards the ferry port, he’d headed in the opposite direction, towards the motorway that led west.
‘You’re going the wrong way,’ she’d protested. ‘This doesn’t lead to the ferry terminal.’
‘We’re not going to the terminal. I don’t have my passport.’
She was so stunned she hadn’t spoken for a few seconds. Then she’d realized he was winding her up. She gave a little tinkling laugh.
‘Matt. You should be a comedian. Come on, you’ve had your joke. We can take the next exit and double back for the ferry.’
‘I’m not joking, Carrie. I wish I was.’
She gripped the edges of her seat in shock. He meant it. He actually meant it. She’d agreed to go away with him to help Rowena, clinging on to the consolation of a month in hot and glamorous places. But now? They were going to miss their ferry. They were going to miss Paris and Rome and Provence. The Eiffel Tower, the Alps, St. Tropez… Her dreams were flowing away down the gutter. And it was all Matt’s fault.
‘Noo-oooo!’
Matt swerved and the van lurched sickeningly. ‘Jesus Christ. I nearly ran into that truck. What the hell’s the matter?’
‘What’s the matter? You are. You just destroyed my holiday!’
‘Now just calm down. This isn’t the end of the world.’
‘Calm? Stay calm? After what you’ve just told me?’
‘I can’t help it if my passport’s expired. It’s a good job it happened now, rather than when I was queuing at the check-in to go back to Tuman. I did the responsible thing and sent it off as soon as I got back. How was I to know I’d be invited on a road trip round Europe?’
‘But you knew you’d need it when you agreed to come,’ said Carrie, knowing she was wailing but not caring. ‘You knew where we were planning on going. How could you have done this? You’ve ruined the whole bloody trip!’
‘With respect, I haven’t ruined the whole bloody trip. It’s just going to be different, that’s all.’
‘With respect,’ snarled Carrie. ‘You’re just a fucking idiot!’
The wipers swished. The rain hammered down. The engine of the giant truck next to them rumbled like an impending earthquake.
When Matt spoke, his voice was icily calm. ‘Caroline. In my professional opinion, getting all worked up like this is bad for you. You should watch your blood pressure.’
‘Stuff your professional opinion. I’m not even thirty yet. I don’t have anything wrong with my sodding blood pressure!’
‘I could check for you. I brought some gear with me,’ he said, raising his eyebrows. ‘Shall I?’
‘You…’
‘Yes?’ He stared at her, challenging her.
‘Oh just turn off for the bloody service station!’
‘Well, it seems a shame when we’ve finally got going, but if that’s what you really want.’
The only thing that had stopped her from saying something very rude again was the futility of it. Nothing she could say would change the situation, and ranting and raving would only play into his smug, arrogant hands. If only he’d told her before they’d set off. She’d never have agreed to go. Never! Now, all she could do was steam in the passenger seat as the traffic jam began to ease and Dolly started to move again.
At the service station, Matt seemed to spend a ridiculously long time finding a space big enough for Dolly. In the end, they were miles from the entrance and Carrie knew she’d be drenched when she went to the loo, but she couldn’t care less. As he shunted the van back and forth to get it straight, she saw people scuttling through puddles into the service station. The pools of water shimmered with dirty diesel rainbows that seemed to sum up her life over the past few months. The hope of a brighter future, but tainted. ‘It’s only a holiday,’ her rational side whispered. ‘But it meant so much to you and he’s destroyed it,’ said her bruised and battered heart.
‘I think we should discuss this like adults,’ said Matt, killing the engine.
Carrie focused on a family picnicking in the car in front. A little boy stared at them from the back seat.
‘If it’s any consolation, I am genuinely sorry about the passport,’ he added, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic. ‘But I will not be called a fucking idiot, Carrie. Not by you or by anyone.’
Carrie bit her lip. Winding down the window a few inches, she let the raindrops spray her hot cheeks. The little boy in the car put his tongue out at her. She stared him down, then did the same back. Terrified, he hid behind the seat.
She decided to hold out an olive branch, convincing herself that she was being gracious rather than, actually, just a teeny bit in awe of Matt. ‘Okay. I’m prepared to admit that, in hindsight, fucking idiot was a bit strong. You’re only a stupid prat.’
‘Still inaccurate but slightly more acceptable.’
‘But why didn’t you tell Rowena about your passport before we set off? Why wait until we were on our way?’
‘Would you have come with me if you’d known?’
Carrie rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘There you are then. What was the point in telling you? We’d never even have got out of Packley.’
More silence. Raindrops ran in snail trails down the screen and the motorway was a dull roar through the glazing. The thought of turning the van round and crawling all the way back home was a deeply depressing one. She didn’t need to go backwards, that was for sure, but then again, riding round the West Country in a camper van was hardly going to solve her problems. Matt’s phone beeped. He glanced down and the corners of his mouth tilted.
‘Natasha?’ said Carrie.
‘No. My boss in Tuman.�
��
‘How nice. I need the loo,’ said Carrie, feeling very insignificant.
Matt dropped the phone in the door pocket. ‘Wait a minute. It’s pissing down out there. There’s an umbrella in the back.’
‘Don’t bother. I’ll run.’
The rain had slowed to a drizzle but she was still wet by the time she ran through the doors and into the service station. Locking herself in a cubicle, she sat down, her mind racing. This was the second time recently she’d hidden in a toilet. What a mess her life seemed to be. She ripped a handful of loo paper off the roll to wipe her wet face. She needed what this trip represented. A chance to break away, to put distance between the old Carrie and the new one she was desperate to find. The trouble was, she wasn’t really sure who the new Carrie was, and finding out under Matt’s watchful eye wasn’t going to be easy.
After blasting herself under the hand dryer, she held her head high and strode out into the service area.
Matt was waiting at the entrance, two takeaway coffees in his hands. ‘Latte or mocha? I wasn’t sure which.’
Carrie grunted.
‘That sounded like latte, but it’s a dialect I’m not familiar with.’
‘Mocha,’ she mumbled.
‘Ah. It is English. Of sorts. Mocha it is.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Would you feel safer having this discussion in public or in Dolly?’ he asked.
‘It had better be Dolly. I don’t want to be arrested for assault.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Is that a threat?’
‘No, a promise.’
Inside the van, the steam from the drinks misted up the windows.
‘I’ll pay for the ferry tickets,’ said Matt as she sipped the mocha. It was far too hot and burnt her tongue, but she needed something to focus on. ‘It’s my fault you’ve lost out on the trip abroad. It’s the least I can do.’
She hesitated before replying. He’d held out a great big olive branch and it was going to be difficult to refuse it. She didn’t feel like being ten anymore, but she didn’t feel like growing up either. She certainly didn’t feel she should turn into Miss Sweetness and Light just for Matt. Since Huw had left her, she didn’t feel she owed anyone anything, except her parents and a few close friends.
‘Look. It’s not the money. Not just that, though I’m not in a position to say no. It’s the fact that I was looking forward to going somewhere new… somewhere different. We didn’t have much time, Huw and me, when we ran the farm…’ She stopped, already conscious of having said too much. Of letting her guard down.
‘I can understand that. I can see why you’re disappointed and I will get you some new tickets for another time, but that doesn’t mean we should abandon the trip. We can still carry on. We can still have a good time.’
She buried her nose in the chocolatey steam from her drink. ‘Are you saying I get to choose where we go and you have to agree?’
He hesitated at that bit too long. Hmm. For all that laid-back calm, she suspected Matt Landor was a bit of a control freak.
‘If you want.’
She hid her smile with a sip. ‘That’s just my first condition. My second condition is that I drive whenever I want, starting now.’
‘Be my guest,’ he said, popping the lid back on his empty cup. ‘And is there a third?’
‘I’m saving that for when we get where we’re going. Hand over the keys.’
Taking her place behind the wheel, Carrie adjusted the seat position and mirror. She could only just reach the pedals. She turned the key and pushed Dolly into reverse. The van gave a rattle, then a rumble. Carrie pushed down on the gas and lifted her foot off the clutch. The van shot backwards like a cork from a bottle and there was a scraping noise.
‘Shit!’
The rear mirror was a mass of green bush and tree. She’d backed into some kind of hedge. ‘Oh, bugger.’
‘I should have warned you. Her clutch is a bit temperamental, but I’m sure you’ll get used to her whims and foibles,’ said Matt, leaning back in his seat. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. ‘Now, I got up at the crack of dawn this morning, and if you don’t mind, I’m going to get a bit of sleep and leave everything in your capable hands.’
Chapter 18
Until his accident, Matt had always had the gift of being able to drop off anywhere, a useful side effect of the sleep deprivation he’d endured while training as a junior doctor. But since he’d got back from Tuman, his sleep patterns had been erratic, to say the least. Some nights he’d lain awake for hours before falling into a fitful doze. Other times, he’d sat down to watch some late-night crap on the TV and the next thing he’d known it was 3:00 a.m. and he was waking up dry mouthed on the sofa. For the first twenty miles after the service station, he’d only been pretending to sleep, he’d been so on edge at handing over responsibility to Carrie, but soon, despite the noise, the fumes, and the rattling, Dolly had somehow managed to lull him into oblivion.
When he woke up, he watched her through half-shut eyes. Her knuckles were white with tension as she gripped the big steering wheel. Her eyes were wide as they concentrated on the road. She’d be stiff as a board, he guessed, by the end of the day, but he wasn’t going to interfere. He felt guilty about the passport fiasco and even guiltier about lying to her, but he’d known she’d never have agreed to the trip if she’d known. He was still wondering about his exact motivation for going along. He was certainly going mad in the flat with nothing to do.
‘I hope you’re not working,’ Shelly had said in her text. ‘Or I’ll find out and fire you.’
He smiled to himself. Dr. Whiplash they called her at the base, but he had to admit she was a great boss, apart from her error of judgment in sending him home. Still, now he was here he might as well get into the best shape he could. Get some fresh air and exercise. He had a few diving buddies at a hospital in the South West; he decided he could look them up and give Carrie some space to herself. He opened his eyes and squeezed them shut again. The sun was blinding. All the clouds had miraculously disappeared and it was verging on warm, even by his standards. They weren’t on the motorway anymore. The roads were scarily narrow and a glance in the wing mirror showed an alarming queue of traffic behind the van.
‘Where are we?’ he asked drowsily.
‘Somewhere in north Devon.’
‘Bloody hell. How long have I been asleep?’
‘Nearly three hours.’
‘Shouldn’t you take a break or something?’
‘I did. I stopped and went to the loo at Taunton and bought some lunch from a shop. When I tried to wake you up, you muttered something about leaving you alone because you deserved to suffer. So I did.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I got you a bottle of water and a meat pie. They didn’t have much left.’
The pasty and water were rolling around the footwell. ‘Looks delicious. Do you want me to take over the driving?’
‘Not much point. We’re nearly there.’
Rescuing his lunch from the floor, he took a long swig of the water. He was incredibly thirsty and also very hungry. He must have stepped on the pasty while he’d been asleep because it was squashed flat at one end. But then he’d eaten plenty of things almost as bad, if not in Tuman, then at school.
Outside, the countryside had changed from fields to rolling hills and, in the distance, dark moorland. Dolly let out a groan of protest as they started to climb a steep hairpin bend. Carrie changed down the gears and the van slowed from gentle amble to snail’s pace as she labored up the hill. From behind there was the sound of tooting horns. Matt turned round to see an irate BMW driver shaking his fist. He waved back and blew him a kiss. The driver gave him the finger.
‘Don’t do that! Haven’t you heard of road rage?’ said Carrie.
‘I was only trying to defuse the situation with humor.’
‘Then don’t.’
Dolly made it to the top of the hairpin, and at the top, a glorious vista opened up. Sea and sky merged in a sparkling palette of blue.
‘Can you tell me where we’re going? Bloody hell!’
There was an ear-splitting squeal of brakes. Matt was catapulted towards the windshield. His seat belt snapped tight round his chest. The smell of burning rubber rose from the road as a horn blared from behind.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he said, his heart thumping in his chest.
Her mouth was set in a grim line. ‘Turning left. We’re here.’
The BMW driver was screaming abuse through his window as he roared past, and Carrie didn’t blame him. But it was too late to worry. Dolly was bumping her way down a lane that was barely more than a farm track. It wound its way down the side of a deep valley to the sea. It was a bone-shaker of a ride and Carrie knew it was fortunate that they hadn’t met anyone driving up it, as she was none too sure there would have been passing room.
She didn’t dare look at Matt but she was sure he was holding on to the grab handle. Eventually the valley widened out and she spotted the patch of sand and gravel that served as a makeshift parking lot. There were no houses, just a few cars, a couple of motorbikes, and another camper van.
‘This is it,’ she said, jumping down onto the gravel. She had pins and needles in her legs and her back was stiff from the long drive. She pushed her hair back out of her eyes so she could get a proper look at the view. The sand and shingle beach shelved steeply into a dark blue sea.
Matt joined her, shading his eyes. ‘We’re not staying the night here, are we?’
‘No.’
‘But you chose this place for a reason?’
Carrie Goes Off the Map Page 10
