Carrie Goes Off the Map

by Phillipa Ashley

  ‘The portions were outrageous. I might have to suggest we stop for fish and chips on the way home,’ said Matt.

  Natasha laughed. ‘Is that what you’ve been living on for the past month?’

  ‘Only as a treat,’ said Carrie. ‘Mostly we’ve existed on beans on toast.’

  ‘Not much fun in a confined space, but we do know each other a hell of a lot better, don’t we?’ said Matt, winking at Carrie.

  Taken aback at this unexpected display of comradeship, she was slow to react.

  ‘Well…’

  ‘Matt used to set light to his own farts at school,’ declared Natasha, hastily marking her territory.

  ‘Do you mind? This is a classy establishment,’ said Rob, topping up Carrie’s glass from a bottle of wine.

  ‘So, Matt’s filthy habits apart, you’re having a wonderful time together. As you mentioned, sharing a confined space like that must be hell.’

  ‘Dolly’s been lovingly restored,’ said Carrie loyally.

  ‘I’m sure she has, but come on, it’s just a tin can on wheels.’

  ‘It’s a lot better than boarding school, as you’d have to admit, Tasha,’ said Matt unexpectedly. ‘I’ll go and get the bill.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Rob.

  ‘I ought to pay my share,’ offered Carrie, dreading how much they’d spent.

  Natasha patted her hand. ‘Let the guys pay. It makes them feel useful.’

  While Matt was at the bar, Tasha slid into his seat next to Carrie. She smelled spicy and expensive, probably courtesy of Jo Malone. Huw had bought Carrie some JM cologne once and she’d kept the bottle long after the last drop had evaporated. Natasha was chattering about the boat and where they were planning to go on it. Carrie thought it sounded really awful, all that white leather upholstery, the comfy beds, the proper toilet…

  When Matt came back, Natasha was back on their boarding school days. ‘Do you remember what a dump it was? Never any hot water, gross food. Matt rebelled against it all, of course.’

  ‘Quel surprise,’ said Rob.

  Natasha ignored him. ‘Carrie, you might find this hard to believe, but he actually kidnapped the bursar and held him for ransom in the common room. He got into the most terrible trouble. The head sent him on a ten-mile cross-country run.’

  Carrie couldn’t resist. ‘It all sounds like a spiffing prank. Did you have midnight feasts too, like Malory Towers?’

  She smiled broadly to show she was joking but Natasha called her bluff. ‘Well, not quite, darling. We weren’t really there to enjoy lemonade and buns. There were cakes involved but not of the chocolate variety. I seem to recall they were Matt’s contribution—though my memory is naturally a bit foggy now.’

  ‘Ah, but Matt’s a reformed character these days. He doesn’t do naughty things anymore. Do you, Matt?’

  Natasha’s eyes glinted. ‘Really? That’s not what I heard. Is it, Matt?’

  Carrie cringed. They were behaving like a couple of rival sisters, and Matt did what any indulgent parent would when asked to choose. He linked both their arms in his and said: ‘You know what I think, girls. I think we should all go down to the harbor and look at the pretty boats.’

  ***

  Later, back at the campsite, Carrie returned from the shop with an out-of-date copy of Heat and a Twix to find Matt shirtless. He was shaving, using her makeup mirror wedged in the frame of the awning. She’d grown used to the back view of him by now; the tattoos, so weird at first, were now just part of him. She didn’t think he’d noticed her watching him. He was scraping the blade over his neck, skimming his throat. Every so often he’d dip the razor in a bowl of water, leaving shaving foam and stubble behind. His hair was still damp at the ends, curling into his neck.

  ‘Hot date?’ she said, dropping her shopping on the table.

  ‘I’m having dinner with Natasha.’

  Right. Of course. Why shouldn’t he? ‘Isn’t it the same thing?’ she said.

  He gave the razor a final rinse and laid it by the bowl. ‘If you say so.’

  She opened her magazine and sat down as he took a white shirt from the back of a deck chair. After he’d buttoned it up, he squinted in the mirror and ran his hand over his chin.

  ‘What’s so funny? Do I have spinach on my teeth or something?’ he asked when he caught her smiling at him.

  ‘No spinach, though if there was I probably wouldn’t have told you.’ She flicked the pages and stared hard at a photo. Now that was interesting… Paris Hilton had had a cat specially bred to match her favorite pair of stilettos. ‘I don’t suppose I should wait up for you?’ she said casually.

  ‘Probably not.’

  Matt pulled on his socks and stuffed his feet into a pair of chunky black boots.

  ‘You look ravishing, darling. Divine socks.’

  His smile when he turned was wry and knowing. ‘Thanks. I do like to make an effort. Clean underpants and all that.’

  ‘That’s more than I need to know,’ she said, trying to take an interest in J. Lo’s new yoga regime instead of Matt’s mating ritual, but it was almost impossible. As he rolled up his cuffs midway to the elbow, she was heartily wishing that he would just bugger off. She didn’t want him to linger any longer, preparing himself to have sex with another woman. It was just too intimate.

  Relief came at last. Picking up his wallet, he shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans. She tried not to look for the telltale circle of a condom in his back jean pocket, but of course Natasha would have that covered. When he was ready, he said, ‘Carrie, if you’re not comfortable being here alone tonight, I can stay. This may be old-fashioned, and I expect you’ll be sarcastic, but I don’t really like leaving you on your own like this.’

  She laughed. ‘Matt, you sound like my mum. Go and have a good time. To be honest, I’m looking forward to having a night on my own. I think it will do us both good to have a bit of space. I can do without your smelly feet for one night.’

  ‘In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow. My taxi will be here in a minute. Goodbye.’

  ‘Don’t fall off the boat,’ she said after he’d gone.

  Chapter 29

  ‘So how are you getting on?’ asked Rowena the next day.

  Carrie clamped the phone firmly to her ear. She’d been determined not to be in when Matt got back from his night of passion with Natasha, so she’d walked down to the town. She’d finally succumbed to the Tate and spent several hours wandering round it, sitting in front of the artwork and installations. Huw would have had to be bound and gagged to enter a gallery.

  ‘Sorry, Rowena. I can’t hear you. There’s a demonic seagull trying to attack me.’

  She flapped her arm and the gull flew off, but not before it had swiped her ice cream. ‘Get off, you horrible bird!’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘On the roof of the Tate in St. Ives. You have got to see their new Damien Hirst installation. And the naive fishermen’s paintings are incredible… Oh, and did you know that the Barbara Hepworth sculpture garden is here—’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, but how are you getting on?’ cut in Rowena.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Only fine? I thought you might have had more to report by now.’

  ‘Okay. I get it. If you expected us to fall into each other’s arms, it hasn’t worked. Matt’s just spent the night with Natasha on some skanky old luxury yacht.’

  ‘Sounds totally crap. I can see why you’d rather stay in a rusty old camper van.’

  ‘Wash your mouth out, Rowena. Nelson would faint if he heard that. Look, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not the slightest bit bothered about Matt. He isn’t my type.’

  ‘What about Spike?’

  ‘I passed on Spike. I’m a free agent these days.’

  The s
eagull was back, eyeing her paper bag of groceries. She gave it her best death look.

  ‘That’s a shame. He sounded cute,’ Rowena went on as the gull stared at Carrie like the creepy little boy in The Sixth Sense.

  ‘He turned out to be a tax inspector,’ muttered Carrie, deciding to leave out the fact that he’d also left her on the beach stoned out of her skull.

  ‘Well, it’s not exactly grounds for dumping the guy, but I suppose it’s your life.’

  ‘How are you getting on, Rowena?’

  ‘The truth? It is bloody manic. Mayhem. I don’t want to go on about me, but you won’t believe who was on the set this morning…’

  Half an hour later, Carrie’s mobile was beeping to show the battery was running low and the seagull had dive-bombed a family into handing over their chips. It was late afternoon. She figured Matt would be back by now, unless he’d decided to stay on the yacht for another night. She wanted to get back to Dolly, have a shower and wander into town for the evening. She’d seen flyers saying there was a band playing at one of the waterfront pubs. One of those Ye Olde Something or Other places by the harbor. Gripping her bag of supplies tighter, she peered at the leaflet in the pub window. It was a Nirvana tribute band.

  ‘It is you, isn’t it?’

  She turned to see Lola smiling at her.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ They both said it at the same time.

  ‘You first,’ said Lola, flicking back her long hair. She seemed nervous, shy even.

  ‘Matt wanted to revisit old haunts,’ said Carrie. Trying to avoid the seagull muck, she deposited the groceries on the pub table.

  Lola hopped about nervously, then said, ‘We missed you and Matt.’

  Carrie was glad Matt wasn’t here now with Natasha. She had a feeling Lola still had a major crush on him.

  ‘Have Spike and the others gone home?’ she asked, but the question was answered by the man himself strolling out of the pub.

  Chapter 30

  He was shoving his change and a box of matches into the pocket of his board shorts.

  ‘Sorry,’ mouthed Lola.

  ‘It’s fine,’ said Carrie, gritting her teeth. Behind him were Baz and Stig, both grunting hello before scarpering faster than hares out of a trap. So, they all knew he’d dumped her, thought Carrie; though that wasn’t strictly true, because she’d walked away from him. Her face heating up didn’t help.

  ‘What a surprise to see you here. Down for the weekend?’ she said, hardly bothering to keep the edge out of her voice.

  He gave her his best lazy smile but she could see he was beyond his comfort zone. ‘No. We decided to stay on a couple more weeks, catch some more waves while we could. How’re you doing?’

  He’d obviously been planning to stay on surfing and was too cowardly to tell her the truth. Yet she could hardly complain: she’d buggered off too. He owed her nothing, but she didn’t like being lied to.

  ‘You know. We get about. We’ve been round the south coast to Land’s End. Matt took me to the Minack Theatre to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’

  Spike’s eyes flickered momentarily to two girls in bikinis laughing by the harbor. ‘Where is Matt?’ he asked, refocusing on her.

  ‘Out with his friends. We’re not joined at the hip.’ She bit her lip as he raised his eyebrows. ‘I have to go. My fish sticks are melting.’

  He laughed. ‘Well, we can’t have your dinner defrosting. Maybe I’ll see you around.’

  She wanted to sink into a hole. ‘Maybe.’

  Hoisting her bag, she scuttled off along the harbor. It was the opposite direction to the site but she didn’t care if she ended up in Glasgow as long as she got out of Spike’s sight. However, the pub table must have been damp, and the bottom of her bag disintegrated, sending cans and packets rolling out over the cobbles. Everyone turned, of course. She was now more entertaining than the seagulls dive-bombing a traffic warden as he tried to ticket a motorbike.

  ‘Hey. Let me help.’

  Lola was behind her, picking up beans and rice as deftly as a Wimbledon ball girl.

  ‘Thanks. What a plonker I am.’

  ‘Nah. You just need a stronger bag. Hang on.’ She pulled a tote bag out of her backpack and handed it over.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Carrie, shoving the shopping inside. ‘Love the logo. Say no to plastic.’

  ‘I printed it myself,’ Lola said, her cheeks turning pale pink, her eyes shining.

  ‘It’s great, Lola. You’re really clever.’

  The girl smiled modestly, and Carrie could see why Matt liked her. Her heart went out to Lola. It was all very well shagging people you picked up on the beach, but it also meant casting them aside like driftwood. If you weren’t careful, if you got into any kind of relationship that went beyond mutual-bonk level, someone ended up feeling discarded.

  ‘Do you want to go for a smoothie or an herbal tea? There’s a great fair trade café up the hill,’ said Lola.

  Carrie smiled. Herbal tea. Daring. ‘What about Spike? Won’t your friends miss you?’

  ‘They said they’re going off to Perranporth for the day.’

  ‘And you don’t want to go surfing with them?’

  ‘I’d rather talk to you.’

  Carrie smiled, but inwardly she knew that talking about Matt might mean she was going to have to tell Lola about Natasha.

  ‘I’ve been wondering how you were,’ said Lola as they walked up the cobbled street, drinks in hand.

  ‘I’m fine, why would you worry about me? If you think I’m upset about Spike, then don’t. We both knew it was just a bit of a fling.’

  ‘Oh no. I know you don’t care about Spike. It’s Matt I was thinking of.’

  ‘Matt? Why would you be worrying about me and him?’

  Lola looked puzzled. ‘You like him, don’t you?’

  ‘Like him? I suppose that’s one word for it. He’s okay in his way. As a friend.’ She felt his lips on her forehead, putting her in her place in the gentlest yet hardest of ways.

  ‘I think he’s amazing,’ Lola said dreamily.

  There was no hope now. Should she tell her? Matt’s got a girlfriend. She’s called Natasha and last night they went out together, had wild sex, and he hasn’t come back yet.

  ‘He’s incredible. Working out in Tuman as a doctor, helping all those people, and I like his tattoos.’

  Carrie wasn’t sure the message would get through, but she didn’t know how far to push things. ‘Lola, I think you should know that Matt’s not the type to settle down. He never has been and I’ve known him a few years now.’

  ‘Yes, I know all about that. He told me about when you were at university together. And all about your fiancé and what you did at the church. I thought it was funny, actually. I mean, I was upset for you but I’m sure I’d have reacted the same way if the person I loved did that to me.’

  Carrie stopped and rested the bag on a wall. She’d been puffing all the way up the hill but Lola’s remark had taken away what was left of her breath. ‘I really wish Matt hadn’t told you about the wedding.’

  ‘Why not? He was only being nice.’

  Nice? Well, hey, why not put an ad in the Cornish Times and the Devonshire Bugle, maybe even the John O’Groats Gazette, she thought. No. Why not tell Sky News and broadcast it to the whole world?

  ‘He really cares about you,’ said Lola hastily.

  ‘I’m sure he does care, but he needn’t worry about me. What happened is all in the past now. It’s light years away. I’m a completely different person.’

  Lola picked up Carrie’s bag from the wall and her face brightened. ‘Are you? Are you really different?’

  There was no point taking things out on Lola, who was really very sweet if slightly not of this earth. ‘Yes, I am. The woman M
att told you about—the crazy, stupid one—’

  ‘I’m sure you could never be stupid!’

  ‘Oh, I could. Anyway, she’s history. This is me now.’

  They’d reached the gates of the campsite and Carrie was hoping Lola wouldn’t want to come in with her. Bloody, bloody Matt. He’d allowed a nice girl like that to get a crush on him, discussed all Carrie’s embarrassing secrets with her, and then gone off and shagged Natasha. Lola’s eyes were fixed on the orange beacon that was Dolly.

  ‘Isn’t that your camper van? And look, there’s Matt! Do you mind if I say hello?’

  ‘Of course not, but I need some stuff from the shop first,’ said Carrie, hoping Lola wouldn’t ask what stuff because she had no idea. She just didn’t want to be a witness to their reunion. In fact she was a big coward and desperately hoped Matt would tell Lola about Natasha himself.

  ‘Shall I take your groceries back to Dolly?’ offered Lola.

  ‘Oh, would you mind?’ said Carrie, before realizing she sounded exactly like Natasha.

  ***

  She’d queued for ages in the shop behind a group of teenagers trying to scam bottles of cider out of the assistant. Which turned out to be lucky, because by the time she got back to the van, Matt had evidently done the deed. He was standing in the awning with his arms round Lola, giving her a distinctly fraternal hug. Carrie slowed her step. Matt was kissing the top of Lola’s head, rather like he’d kissed her after the play at the Minack. A gentle but firm dismissal.

  She just was wondering whether to creep away when Matt saw her and mouthed, ‘Wait.’ She froze as he gave Lola a large white handkerchief and she blew her nose noisily. It could only be moments before Lola realized she was here, so she strolled towards the van making as much noise as possible without coughing or humming too obviously. Matt whispered in Lola’s ear and she wiped her face hastily. When she turned, her eyes were bright and her cheeks pink but she was smiling.