Текст книги "Hearts of Fire"
Автор книги: L. H. Cosway
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
Two
They crossed a sea of water
He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the way that his large muscular frame moved mesmerised me. He was all hard, toned muscle underneath gorgeous tanned skin. I leaned forward in my chair, because it looked like there was scarring all along his shoulder and half of his back.
“Are those….”
“Burn scars?” Lola interjected casually. “That’s what they look like, but nobody knows for certain.”
I glanced at her, unsure yet if I was comfortable with this girl. I was by contrast wary and delighted with her instant camaraderie. I’d never had a stranger come up to me and randomly act like we were already friends. For once, I wasn’t the eager one. Then again, I thought Lola and I probably came from very different worlds. Perhaps she did this kind of thing all the time.
Thinking of Jack’s scars, I wondered if that was why he’d been staring at my burned hand so intensely today. Perhaps it brought back a traumatic memory for him.
My eyes grew wide as he walked to the centre of the stage, holding out the two blazing torches. The crowd applauded when he began to swing them around dexterously, and my body got tense. He swung the torches in swift figure-eights, creating glowing swirls of orange in the dim light of the tent. I was both fascinated and worried that he might hurt himself, or worse, lose his grip on one of the torches.
His movements were almost like dancing. He ran the fire along the length of one arm, and it blazed across his skin before flickering out. He licked at the other flame, then brought the entire torch into his mouth and swallowed the fire. Whoa. Sexily, he lifted a bottle to his mouth, took a drink, tipped a torch to his lips, and spat. Huge, billowing flames exploded outward, making it look like he was breathing fire. It held a terrifying sort of beauty.
I heard quiet chuckling next to me and turned to see Lola grinning, “You’re fucking hilarious.”
I frowned, unsure whether I should take offence. “What?”
“You act like you’ve just seen a miracle.”
“Well, I’ve never been to a circus before, so….”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Really? That’s mad.” Then she dropped her face into the candyfloss and bit off a big chunk. She ate it like a three-year-old would eat a birthday cake, face first.
Hearing delighted noises from those around me, I brought my attention back to Jack to see he was now swinging around pronged metal wheels, the tips all lit with fire. He reminded me of an ancient tribal warrior performing a victory dance, and it was sexy as shit. I felt a chill cover the surface of my skin, my pores prickling. There was something irrefutably carnal about this man, and I was shocked to discover how much he could arouse me without so much as a touch.
Well, “shocked” was probably too strong a word. Since my mid-teens, I’d felt like I was a little preoccupied with sex. I mean, I had an active imagination and daydreamed about it all the time – probably because I had yet to find a partner who truly satisfied me. I was desperate to sate the foreign yet familiar hunger inside me. I’d always had this urge to explore, to experience something outside the realms of the normal. I’d had more than enough normal with Henry. Now I wanted more. Just…more.
Marina came back onto the stage, declaring that Jack would need a volunteer from the audience for the next part of his act. Needless to say, I was dying to throw my hand up and offer myself, but I had no idea what volunteering would entail. If it was something embarrassing, then half the town would be here to witness it. I shuddered to think of the news getting back to Mum, and I’d already defied her tonight with my backtalk.
So yeah, I craved sticking it to her like nobody’s business – I just had to formulate the actual courage to do so. One step at a time, I told myself, just as Lola shouted out, “Marina! Over here! I have a volunteer for ya!”
She took hold of my arm and swung it into the air.
“No!” I whisper-hissed, but she only winked at me and pushed me up out of my seat. Before I knew it I was standing, and a spotlight had landed on me, alongside Jack’s dark, indecipherable gaze. I stood frozen for a moment, uncertain of what to do, and then Marina was calling me to the stage and my feet were moving one after the other, the traitorous bastards. Okay, so maybe I was going to stick it to Mum sooner than I thought. And really, it was oddly liberating.
Jack held his hand out to me when I reached him, and I placed my palm in his. Without realising it, I’d given him the hand that had been burned. When he gripped it, I hissed in a tiny breath at the sting.
“Sorry,” he murmured, but he didn’t sound sorry.
“It’s okay,” I replied as he led me to an upright wooden panel. Taking my shoulders in his big, warm hands, he gently situated me against it, my back flush with the wood.
“I hope you’re good at holding still,” he said, and his breath hit the side of my neck.
“Why?” I practically whispered. He was incredibly handsome, even more so now that I was seeing him up close, and I felt a little drunk on it.
The edge of his mouth twitched, like he was holding back a smile. With one hand braced above my shoulder, he leaned in as he replied, “Because, blondie, I’m gonna be throwing knives at you, and I’d really hate to make you bleed.”
Again, he didn’t sound like he meant what he said at all. And I didn’t think there was a single pore on my body that wasn’t tingling. I remembered items number three and four on my list: Have sex with a stranger and do something dangerous. Perhaps if I could get Jack McCabe to do me, then I could kill two birds with one stone.
I hadn’t noticed before, because I was too busy staring at him, but there was a belt attached to the wood. I stood there as Jack took it and buckled it extra tight around my waist. He gave it a firm tug once he was done and smirked. I’m not sure why, but the action caused me to tremble. I think he noticed, too, because his eyes grew darker, if that was even possible.
Surprising me, he placed his flattened-out palm on my belly. I had to try my hardest to concentrate on his words rather than the fact that my libido (the little slut) was willing his hand to move lower.
“This is your core. Visualise it. Focus on it. Keep your body in this exact position, and everything will be fine.” There was the tiniest edge of a smile tugging at his lips, and it made me wonder if he was enjoying this, if maybe he was trying to make me nervous.
Sucking in a breath, he continued randomly, “You smell like turpentine.” Then he drew up to his full and impressive height, and walked to the other side of the stage. I knew I smelled like turpentine because I often used it to clean my paintbrushes, and sometimes the smell got into my clothes. That wasn’t the part that preoccupied me; that part would be the fact that he’d taken the time to smell me, and I didn’t know whether I should be weirded out or turned on.
Okay, so I knew which option my libido was going for. And really, maybe I was just as much of a weirdo, because what I’d wanted to reply was, “You smell like kerosene.”
Jack gathered a selection of small throwing knives from the floor and demonstrated the sharpness of each by flinging them one by one into a block of solid wood, where they embedded themselves as though slicing through butter. My heart began to race, and I could feel adrenaline starting to flood my system. I was shaking very slightly all over as I remembered Lola’s words.
I swear, every time he throws a knife at someone, I can’t be certain whether or not he means to hit or miss.
I was hoping it was the latter. Perhaps I was crossing my “something dangerous” off the list after all. Damn my life. Why couldn’t it have been the sexy danger? Jack didn’t even announce that he was starting when he stood at least ten feet away from me, flipped a knife in his hand, caught it, then lunged with his whole body and flung the knife right at my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, and a hollow thud sounded at my ear where the knife had, thankfully, hit the board. Sounds of nervous excitement and clapping came from the audience as Jack continued his assault on me. He moved his body with the kind of skill that only comes from obsessive practice.
Adrenaline drowned me, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
A small squeak of fright escaped me when he threw a knife at my hip and it barely missed. In fact, I could feel the hard edge of the steel pressing against me. I was surprised it hadn’t cut into the fabric of my coat. Jack prowled around the stage, gaze on me, calculating his next throw. Everywhere his eyes looked, I felt positively laid bare. Molested by disinterest.
I might as well have been a sack of potatoes for all the care he showed as to whether or not he might cut me. Deciding I couldn’t take any more, I kept my eyes closed until it was over and all six knives had been thrown.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
When I finally opened my eyes, Jack was standing before me, unbuckling the belt that held me in place. I didn’t move even after I’d been released, still trying to come to terms with the terror I’d just endured. All of a sudden, Jack McCabe was more scary than sexy.
“That was a close one,” he said as he pulled out the knife that had landed just below my ear. I glanced to the side to see a tiny lock of my hair fall to the stage floor. Oh, my God.
“You cut off my hair,” I gasped.
“Only a small bit. Don’t worry – I didn’t leave a bald patch.” He chuckled darkly.
I didn’t know what to say, but I was momentarily appalled at how cavalierly he was taking all this.
“I could sue you,” I said, and then instantly grimaced. I sounded like my mother. It was only hair, after all.
He leaned in, and I thought I saw him bare his teeth for a second. “Go ahead, pumpkin.”
He said “pumpkin” with all the disdain most people would put into the word “bitch.” I didn’t feel safe right then, so I quickly scrambled off the stage and returned to my seat. In all honesty, I felt a bit like going home and having a nice private little cry. Get all the fear and sexual frustration out, you know.
“Have fun?” Lola asked when I reached her.
“Oh, yeah. Big time. Thanks for offering me up for sacrifice, by the way,” I said, annoyed.
She laughed loudly. “It’s the sexiest thing that’s happened to you all year, admit it.”
I snorted. She was dead right, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of letting her know it. Forcing myself to get back into the show, I watched the rest of the acts. They included a contortionist named Violet whose eyes and hair matched her name. She had to be wearing contacts. There was also a husband and wife duo of lion tamers, two clowns, and a group of three stuntmen, two of whom stood on the shoulders of the third as he drove a scooter around the stage.
By the time it was all over, I’d just about gotten past the adrenaline rush of having knives thrown at me. I watched as Delia and her girlfriends walked by, giving me snotty looks as they did so.
“Shit, did you shag one of their boyfriends or something?” Lola asked, amused. I’d almost forgotten that she was still sitting next to me.
“Nope. I think they might be jealous that I got to have a near-death experience and they didn’t,” I deadpanned.
“Ah, I see. Near death at the hands of Jack McCabe is certainly something to envy,” she joked, and nudged me with her elbow.
I laughed despite myself. Lola stood and gestured for me to follow. “Come on, you look like you could do with a drink.”
I stood, and she linked her arm through mine. Again, her familiarity was odd, but I went with it. I kind of liked her oddness. She brought me through a side passage that led backstage, and I saw the three stuntmen packing up their equipment. Lola waved to them.
“Hey, Lola, who’s your friend?” a short, handsome one called.
“My friend is none of your business, Pedro, so you can stick your eyeballs back in their sockets,” Lola replied, and gave me a conspiratorial grin.
“Pedro’s from Brazil,” she explained. “He always uses the accent to get women into bed. You don’t want a slice of that venereal-disease-ridden action, believe me.”
“Oh,” I said, lost for words.
She laughed. “Oh, my God, has anyone ever told you that you have the best facial expressions?”
“Um, no,” I said while she opened a door and led me out the back of the tent. There were motor homes parked all about, two large trucks, and a big open-air gazebo with rows of tables and benches. Lots of the performers had gathered there, drinking and eating. Some people I didn’t recognise, but I guessed they were the ones who worked behind the scenes. It must take a good deal of manpower to set up the tent and transport everything from one location to the next.
Lola was still linking me by the arm when she brought me to a table where Marina sat with Jack and the husband and wife lion tamers.
“Everybody, I want you to meet my new friend, Lille,” Lola announced, pushing me forward to sit in the empty space beside Jack and directly across from Marina. I felt kind of buzzed to be sitting next to him, but was disappointed when he didn’t acknowledge me.
The red-haired ringmaster (mistress?) smiled. “We’ve already met. Nice to see you again, Lille. How’s the hand?”
I touched my good hand to the bandage and shrugged. “Sore.”
She nodded and introduced the lion tamers. “This is Winnie and Antonio, and you know Jack.”
I smiled politely at Winnie and Antonio. Lola poured some red wine into a plastic cup for me and I took it, murmuring my thanks.
“Hi, everyone,” I said, feeling stupid, mainly due to Jack’s silence. What was his problem? He was flexing and releasing his hand repeatedly, like he wanted to hit something. I took a sip of wine and tried not to look at him anymore. It was difficult, since he was so flipping beautiful, and as an artist I was drawn to memorising beautiful things.
“Give me your good hand, Lille,” said Marina, interrupting my thoughts.
I lifted it from my lap, and she took it into her soft, wrinkled fingers. I loved how they felt. Marina had a kind of maternal warmth about her that I’d always longed for in my own mother. And she had a twinkle in her eye that reminded me so much of Gran.
She smoothed her fingers over my palm. “You’ve got a good distinctive life-line here. See how it’s deeply indented? It indicates a certain quality – you’ll do lots of living.”
“You read palms?” I asked, even though the answer was blatantly obvious.
She nodded. “Learned it from my grandmother, the mad old coot.”
I smiled.
“How long have you been an artist?” she asked, noting the dried paint stuck under my fingernails.
“Ever since I was little. Funny coincidence, just like your gran taught you to read palms, my gran taught me how to paint,” I answered. I thought I could sense Jack looking at me then, but since I was determined not to make eye contact with him again, I couldn’t be sure.
“You should come to France with us,” Marina went on, like it was a perfectly natural continuation of what we’d just been talking about.
“Um, I don’t….”
“You can do your face painting with the children. The punters will love it, and you’ll make enough money to live off of. I’ve been meaning to set up something fun for the kids before they come in to see the show. What do you say?”
“France?” I said, blinking, heart racing. This night was moving way too fast for me. It was confusing.
“We’re leaving by ferry at nine in the morning, so you’ll have to make a decision soon.”
“Oh, my God! You have to come,” Lola put in. “I’ve been dying for someone new to hang out with, and Violet’s so bloody annoyed with me all the time. Oh, oh! You could sleep in our camper. We’ve got a spare bed.”
“Shouldn’t you consult Violet about that first?” said Jack, finally speaking.
Lola waved him off. “Pffft, she’ll be fine with it so long as Lille doesn’t get in her way.”
“Violet’s the contortionist?”
“And just about the crankiest woman ever to grace the earth. Seriously, Lille, you’ll be doing me a huge favour. I’m gonna crack if I don’t get a new roommate soon.”
I was flabbergasted. “None of you even know me.”
“Ah, but you’ve got the heart of a traveller,” said Marina. “I can see it in those stormy grey eyes. And that’s good enough for me.”
“Look at you,” said Lola, wearing the biggest smile I’d ever seen. She was all lips and teeth. “You’re dying to say yes, aren’t you?”
“Well, I’d have to run it past my mother first,” I said, eyes downcast, and I heard Jack make a sound of derision. “And I have my summer job at the restaurant in town.” Why was I being hesitant? This offer was my hot air balloon ready and waiting to bring me on an adventure, and yet I was making excuses. I think I was just suspicious of the randomness of it all. Plus, the sad fact was that I’d probably have said yes right away if it weren’t for Jack. He clearly didn’t want me around, and I’d just end up feeling awkward every time I saw him. I wasn’t sure how obvious it was to him that I fancied him something rotten. Perhaps that was the reason for his disdain. He didn’t enjoy being ogled by some dumb girl. He probably had a girlfriend. Probably had several.
“I’m going to go find Violet and ask her what she thinks. She’ll say no, of course, but I’ll talk her around,” said Lola, rising from her seat with a wink.
“The men are taking down the tent tonight so that we can leave first thing in the morning,” said Marina. “You’d better go home and start packing.”
“I haven’t agreed to come yet,” I replied.
She only smiled and pursed her lips, a glint in her eye. “Haven’t you?”
Winnie gave me an encouraging look, and Antonio told me I’d have a great time if I came. As expected, Jack said nothing. Still, the encouragement of the others spurred me on and I rose, determined to go home and tell Mum I was going to France. I felt like I was walking through a dream. Who makes an offer to some random girl to join their circus? It was crazy, and I was happily drowning in the madness.
Gran would have been proud. She’d had Mum late in life, and before that she’d travelled the world, met with some amazing people. Even though I was only ten when she passed, she’d already made a powerful impression on me. I wanted to be just like her. She was strong in a way Mum wasn’t, strong through love and kindness rather than cruelty and control.
I said goodbye to everyone and made my way out of the gazebo. Just as I turned in the direction of town, a strong hand gripped my arm, and I yelped. Aside from a few dim street lights, it was dark out here, and mostly everyone was gone now.
I turned, and my heart stuttered when I found Jack standing behind me, his dark eyebrows drawn into a frown.
“You shouldn’t come,” he said, voice low.
“Let go of me,” I complained, feeling nervous and trying to pull my arm from his grasp. When he realised how tight his grip was, his eyes widened, and he dropped my arm. I turned and began walking again, more speedily this time, wanting to get away from him. No matter how hot he was, I didn’t trust being alone on a dark road with a strange man.
I could hear his steady, booted pace behind me, and I didn’t know why he was following me. My skin prickled with apprehension, and I pulled my phone out of my bag, pretending to dial my mum and proceeding to carry out a one-sided conversation.
“Hi, Mum, it’s me. I’m on my way home now. Yeah. I’m on Frederick Street. See you in a minute.”
I’m not sure why I thought letting Jack know that someone was waiting for me would deter him from harming me, but it was the only thing I could think of, and I didn’t have anything on me that could be used as a weapon. Plus, I couldn’t actually call my mother, since I’d sneaked out to go to the circus and she thought I was still in my room, tucked up safely in bed.
His deep chuckle sounded from behind me as I slid my phone back into my bag.
“Would you like to make a fake call to the police as well?” he asked in amusement.
I scowled and stopped walking, spinning around on him. “It wasn’t fake. And why the hell are you following me anyway?” My voice came out high-pitched and frightened. I hated how I sounded.
“Do you always walk home alone at night?” He was frowning again.
“That’s none of your business. Now, please stop following me. It’s creepy.”
He took a step forward, closing the distance between us. “I’m making sure you get home safe. Don’t be so ungrateful. How much farther is your house?”
The way he spoke made me feel scolded. I looked back and forth between his eyes, trying to decipher if he was being honest. All I got in return was his smouldering dark gaze and neither honesty nor dishonesty. He was like a vault, locked up tight. I was never going to be able to read him.
“You could have told me that in the first place. Don’t you know it’s weird to just randomly start following someone?”
He slowly blinked at me and repeated his question. “How much farther is your house?”
“We’re almost there. I’ll be fine from here. I’m sorry for snapping at you,” I said, and began walking again. He kept up the pace beside me. I sighed.
“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’d rather you not know where I live. For my own peace of mind, you understand?”
He tilted his head down at me, a quizzical look on his face, which made me feel like I needed to explain further.
“You’re a stranger. A kind of scary-looking stranger, if I’m being honest, no offence. So leading you right to where I live would be dumb, right?”
He almost smiled, and wow, when Jack McCabe almost smiled, it really was something to behold. I wasn’t sure I could handle a full one. “I’m good scary, Lille. The kind that frightens off bad scary.”
I was surprised that he’d remembered my name. I’m not sure what possessed me to say what I did next, and I regretted it instantly. “Pinky promise you’re not a psycho killer?” I held out my little finger to him, and he simply stared at it.
“I’m not a psycho killer.”
Feeling stupid, I dropped my hand and considered his answer. Perhaps he was trying to be nice and make sure I got home safe. Then another idea struck me. Was he interested in walking me home because he wanted sex? I looked at him as he strode along, gaze straight ahead. It was almost like he’d read my thoughts, because he turned to me then, his voice deep and husky. “If I wanted to fuck you, you’d know about it.”
I shivered. I didn’t think a man had ever referred to fucking me before, which was sad. And it was even sadder that the first time it happened it was a man referring to the fact that he didn’t want to. I let out a long breath and tried not to let my feelings be hurt.
Tugging my coat tighter around myself as we reached my street, I told him, “Well, you don’t mince your words, do you?”
He shook his head. “Don’t see the point.”
“Okay. I’m home now. You’ve done your duty.” I opened my garden gate and stepped inside.
He called after me. “Remember what I said, Lille. You shouldn’t come with us. You think it’s going to be all fun and games, running away with the circus, but it’s not. It’s hard work with little sleep and shit pay. It’s for people who don’t have homes and mothers who worry about them. It’s not the life for you.”
“I’m not trying to make it my life, Jack. And I never even said I was coming.”
“Good. Don’t.”
“I can make my own decisions.”
“So make the right one.”
We stared at each other for a long time, almost like we were having a stand-off. I felt triumphant when he was the one to walk away first.
***
I didn’t sleep a wink that night. When I got to my room, I sat on my bed, rubbing my hands back and forth over the blanket, my mind racing. I was nearly out of time. I had to make a decision. I mean, running away with the circus was all rainbows and lollipops in theory, but what if I couldn’t hack the reality? I had about four hundred euros in savings to my name and little else. Would I make enough money painting faces to get by?
I was such a coward. The danger was what I wanted. Adventure was something I craved. I had to quit worrying. Steely determination came over me as I pulled out my suitcase and began packing. Of course, I didn’t quite get over all of my fear, as instead of telling Mum in person, I decided to leave her a note. Yeah, I was that type of gutless wonder. But my mother was scary in a way that few people understood. I wasn’t sure there’d ever be a time when her disappointment wouldn’t cut me to the quick.
I was twenty-one. A fully grown woman. I didn’t need her permission to do anything anymore.
Now all I had to do was convince myself to believe it.
She was going to blow a gasket when she found my letter. I was hoping I’d be on a ferry halfway to France by the time that happened. I sealed the letter in an envelope and set it down on my dresser. I managed to squeeze the majority of my clothes into my suitcase, and I threw a small duffel with my sleeping bag in it over my shoulder. I wasn’t quite sure what my sleeping arrangements were going to be.
If worst came to worst, I could sleep on somebody’s floor, right?
I was still wearing the same outfit as the night before when I quietly slipped out of my house at seven in the morning. I could hear Mum moving around in her room, so I knew she’d just woken up. Thankfully, I managed to get out before she noticed. As I hurried down the street, my heart pumped a mile a minute. I loved the thrill of feeling like I was getting away from her. Freeing myself from the prison of quiet desperation I’d been living in.
When I got into town, I stopped by an ATM machine and withdrew all of my savings, shoving the notes into my duffle. I called my boss Nelly and explained to her that I wouldn’t be able to work for the rest of the summer. She gave me hell and told me not to come looking for a reference, which I’d expected, but I winced as she spoke angrily down the line all the same.
When I got to the circus, it wasn’t a circus anymore. The entire thing had been packed away, presumably in one of the large cargo trucks. All that was left was a field full of camper vans. Marina sat on a step outside her motor home, sipping from a mug of coffee and smoking a cigarette, while Pierre sat on her lap, making cute little noises.
“I’ve been expecting you,” she said, eyes smiling.
I was out of breath when I stopped by her and leaned against the side of the van. I felt like I’d been running ever since I left my house. My heart was still pounding. Mum could be reading my letter right this moment. I could just imagine the vein in her forehead throbbing in outrage.
“You sure you still want me along?” I asked, and she laughed.
“Of course I do, sweetheart. Wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t. I’ve been watching you work in that restaurant all week, and I know a girl desperate for travel when I see one. You’ll fit right in with us here.”
When Pierre saw me, he jumped off Marina’s lap and came ambling towards me.
“He’s adorable,” I said.
“Don’t let the innocent little face fool you,” said Marina. “He’s as shrewd as they come, is my Pierre.” I knew she was telling the truth when Pierre climbed up onto my shoulder, reached down, and pulled an old bus ticket from the breast pocket of my coat. I laughed as he hopped off with his loot, then disappeared inside Marina’s camper.
She stubbed out her smoke just as the door to a smaller camper opened and Lola walked out. She rubbed sleep from her eyes, still wearing her pyjamas. “Lille! You came! OMG, I’m so happy right now,” she said, and pulled me into a tight hug.
I think Marina must have seen the bewildered look on my face when she said, “Our Lola gets attached fast when she likes someone. It’s just her way.”
“Yeah, and my way is fucking awesome! Let’s get these bags of yours inside, and I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
I followed her as she led me into her camper van. It was really small and had a kitchenette, and a tiny living area with an equally tiny TV. One door led to a bathroom. The other was closed and led to Violet’s room, Lola explained, and then the final one led to Lola’s room, which I discovered I’d be sharing with her. There was about a foot of space between the two narrow beds. It was tidy in a messy sort of way. The beds were made, but Lola had stuffed all of her clothes under them. There wouldn’t be much room for my things, but I didn’t mind. I’d just live out of my suitcase.
“So, Violet agreed that you could stay. This van belongs to her, unfortunately, so she makes the rules. You’ll have to pay her sixty euros a week in rent, but you’ll make that easily on show nights. All of her food goes in the cupboard to the left and all of ours goes in the cupboard to the right. We get one shelf in the fridge, and she gets two. If you give Marina forty euros a week you can eat in the gazebo with the rest of us for most of your meals. Oh, and don’t use any of the toiletries in the bathroom because they all belong to Violet, and she’ll go cray-cray if you take anything. I keep all my stuff in a bag and bring it with me when I shower. Keeps things simpler. So yeah, she’s a fucking dictator, but you’ll learn to live with it. Hey, perhaps me and you could save and get a camper of our own. That’d be cool!”
I laughed. This girl was mental, but I liked it. “Sure, I’ll just buy a lottery ticket, shall I?” I joked.
“Ha -ha,” she deadpanned, and pulled out a smart phone, fingers gliding across the screen so fast they were almost a blur. “Okay, I’m going to include you in our ferry ticket. Have you got cash?”
I nodded and rummaged in my bag, pulling out some folded notes. Lola took them and finished up the booking. “Great, we’re all sorted. You want to sit up front with me while I drive?”
I told her I would, and followed her to the front of the van. I looked out the window and saw Jack helping to load equipment into one of the trucks. It looked heavy, whatever it was, and the way he worked made me feel all fizzy inside. When he was done, he rubbed his hands on his jeans, looking about the field. My heart thudded when he spotted me sitting in the passenger seat while Lola looked over a map. He seemed pissed off when he saw me. Obviously, I hadn’t taken his advice not to come. I saw him stomp over to the camper that must have been his and slam the door shut.
