Carrie Goes Off the Map (7 page)

‘I do hope so,' said Matt. ‘Where are you planning on going?'

‘Paris, Provence, northern Italy, maybe Switzerland too,' said Rowena.

Rob tutted loudly. ‘Stop angling for an invitation, Matt.'

Carrie was horrified. ‘Oh, there wouldn't be room. It's only a very small van and we've got piles of stuff.'

Rob unwrapped a cigar he'd bought from the bar. ‘You see, Matt, the ladies can't squeeze you in.'

‘Even if they wanted to,' said Matt, keeping his eyes on Carrie.

Rowena held out her lighter. ‘Let me help you with that, Rob.'

Carrie picked up her Coke and took several large gulps. Matt pushed back his shirt cuff and checked his watch, frowning.

‘Expecting someone?' said Carrie.

He glanced back at her, reading her full meaning. ‘As a matter of fact, yes.'

And on cue, his lips parted slightly as he spotted someone behind her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in pleasure and recognition. It was as if, Carrie thought, the sun had suddenly burst out through the clouds on a gray and rainy day.

They all turned to see two girls pushing their way through the drinkers and diners. One was a willowy blonde in a catsuit, the other a curvaceous brunette whose ample bosom was spilling out of a pale blue silk dress. There was no mistaking Nigella and Joely, and there was also no escape. They'd seen her in the pub toilets, they'd seen her outside the church, and they must have lapped up every last juicy detail about her performance from the other guests. When they reached the table, their eyes lit up in confusion, then disbelief.

‘Natasha, Bryony. This is Rowena and Carrie,' said Matt.

Nigella and Joely hadn't been that far off then, thought Carrie.

‘We've already met,' said Natasha.

‘In the toilets at the Turf,' added Bryony.

Natasha lowered her voice and bowed her head towards Carrie's ear. ‘How are you doing? Bloody Fenella! Has to steal someone else's man instead of getting her own. Still, what do you expect from an accountant. It must have been so awful for you.'

Rob tore his eyes from Natasha's cleavage and pricked up his ears. ‘What must have been awful?' he said, then took a puff of his cigar and said meaningfully, ‘Ah.'

‘Actually, we were just leaving,' said Carrie, unable to bear the torture any longer.

‘Oh, don't go on our account. I'm sure we've time for another drink before we have to set off for Grantley Manor. Minty booked a table to celebrate him being safely back home,' said Natasha, stroking Matt's arm. ‘Has he told you about his adventures in the jungle?'

Minty?
Carrie bit back a smile as Matt squirmed. She spoke very politely. ‘Not yet, and it's very kind of you and, er, Minty to ask us to stay, but Rowena and I have got a date with Dolly. We're off on holiday next week and we need to check our route.'

‘Dolly?' said Bryony, slipping on to the bench next to Rob. He kissed her on the cheek.

‘She's a vintage camper van,' said Rowena, glaring her displeasure at having to leave.

Natasha beamed. ‘How retro. Where are you off to?'

‘Oh, somewhere on the continent. We're not sure yet. We're just going to set off and see where life takes us,' Carrie replied airily.

‘Gosh. Sounds like bliss. How lovely to have no ties or responsibilities. I'd absolutely love to simply take off. It's so boring to have to work. You've got an amazing tan there. That must have taken days of lying about in the back garden,' said Natasha.

‘Weeks actually,' said Carrie, smiling until her jaw hurt. ‘But it was worth it. I'd hate to be on the treadmill. It must be so tedious.'

‘Well, I'd do the same if I were you, Carrie darling. God knows, you deserve a little bit of happiness after what you've been through. Matt's told me what a horrible ordeal you've endured with Huw.'

‘Quite,' said Carrie, adding Natasha to her list of people to put in the stocks with Huw. ‘But I'm afraid we do have to leave you. Goodbye, Rob, Natasha, Bryony. Nice meeting you.'

‘Have a great time. Don't do anything I wouldn't,' said Rob.

Carrie steamed off towards the parking lot, leaving Rowena trailing in her wake.

‘Wait a minute. I can't keep up in these shoes! And I need the loo!' she protested.

‘I'll wait for you in the car,' called Carrie. She couldn't stand it a moment longer. The humiliation of bumping into Natasha and Bryony was just too much to bear. It had been by far the worst moment since the church thing. She'd had to endure some funny looks in the village shop for a few days afterwards, but thankfully she hadn't achieved the notoriety she'd expected. Village gossip moved on fast and Carrie's escapade had soon been eclipsed by the vicar's son, who was living with a transgender asylum-seeker. No, village tittle-tattle was nothing to receiving the dubious sympathy of two strangers in front of Matt and his brother. When she reached the parking lot, though, she realized she'd left her bag behind in the beer garden. Now she'd have to go back for it, which would be excruciating. ‘Shit.'

‘Is this what you're looking for?'

Matt was alongside her, holding out her handbag, looking as sheepish as any man did when forced to hold a green sparkly clutch.

‘It won't go off in your hand,' she said.

‘Yes, but the color doesn't suit my eyes,' he said.

But your eyes are twinkling, thought Carrie with a smile, because you feel awkward at following me out of a pub with a bag, and I'm enjoying you squirming.

‘What's so funny?' he said, folding his arms.

‘Nothing. Thanks for bringing my bag,' she said, then murmured, ‘
Twinkle
,' and started marching towards the car.

‘Caroline, wait.'

‘That's not my name,' she said, stopping and daring him to repeat it.

He folded his arms, looked down at her, and said with perfect seriousness, ‘And mine's not Twinkle.'

Carrie smiled sweetly back. ‘Or Minty?'

His lips twisted. ‘I know this isn't any of my business, but I can understand it was a shock for you, what happened with Huw.'

The breath stopped in her throat and she felt her cheeks flaming with shame.

‘You're right. It isn't any of your business and I don't think you can understand.' Her words came out harsher than she'd meant but she didn't want his sympathy.

He shook his head. ‘How do you know I can't understand? You're the only one on the planet who's ever suffered, are you? The only person who's had to deal with rejection and guilt?'

‘Guilt? What have I got to feel guilty about? As for being rejected…' No, she mustn't get into a conversation with him. That was probably what he wanted, to draw her out. ‘Matt, thanks for bringing my bag but I don't need your help. All I need is a good holiday away from Packley. I'm a big girl, Dr. Landor. I can fight my own battles.'

He smiled. ‘I'm sure you can. I've seen you do it, remember?'

She turned back towards the car.

‘Have a good trip,' he called after her.

‘Yeah, I will,' she murmured. Closing the driver's door firmly, she took a deep breath and laid her hot cheek against the cool leather of the seat. Rowena was walking out of the pub door. Carrie brushed her hand over her eyes and wished they would stop stinging. Matt had brought those tears to her eyes and she didn't know why, but she hated herself for her weakness and hated him for making her feel vulnerable.

Rowena opened the passenger door and popped her head in. ‘Was that Matt I saw talking to you? What did he want?'

‘I left my handbag behind,' said Carrie, hoping Rowena wouldn't hear the catch in her voice.

Rowena rolled her eyes. ‘Oh bugger. Is that all? He's absolutely gorgeous, isn't he? Both of them are. Sort of dangerous and smoldering.'

‘What? Like a bonfire?'

‘Oh. You are touchy. I just thought that maybe…'

‘No. Last man on earth and all that,' said Carrie, turning the key in the ignition with unnecessary force. ‘Rowena?'

‘Yes, hon?'

‘How early can you be ready to set off for the ferry next Saturday? I can't get out of Packley soon enough.'

Later that evening, Matt wound down the window of his ancient Mini to let in the cool night air. After leaving the pub, the four of them had enjoyed a very good, if extortionately priced meal at Grantley Manor. Robert had paid, which had made the food taste even better, but Matt had still felt uncomfortable. Spending so much on feeding just four people felt wrong, but it wasn't only his social conscience that was bothering him. Natasha had been regaling him with gossip about the Carrie-Huw-Fenella thing for most of the evening.

‘Of course, this was where Huw had booked the reception for his wedding to that girl,' she'd said as soon as they'd set foot in the oak-paneled foyer of Grantley Manor.

‘Really?' Matt gritted his teeth but it had taken him some time to steer the girls off the subject.

He'd wondered, too many times, whether he should have interfered that day at the church. After all, Carrie was entitled to do what she wanted; he wasn't her keeper. He admired her feistiness, her spark, and her guts and he didn't blame her for being mad with Huw either.

She hated him now, and he could understand that. He'd hate someone who had seen him in that state: raw and upset. Slightly deranged too, he thought with a smile. No wonder she was angry and awkward with him. That was why he hadn't stood up for her in the beer garden, why he'd kept his mouth shut this time and let her fight her own battles.

By the time the waiters had brought the first course, Matt had been determined to force any thoughts of Carrie from his mind, despite the fact that Natasha gossiped about her for most of the evening, and by the end of the night, he'd actually found he was rather enjoying himself. He'd dropped Robert and Bryony off at his brother's house in Summertown and then surprised Natasha by sailing past the flat and heading towards the city.

He had the perfect antidote to his guilty conscience about Carrie.

‘Oh, are we going clubbing? Or for a cocktail at Quod?' asked Natasha.

‘That isn't quite what I had in mind. Close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you.'

‘Can I look yet?' she begged from the passenger seat. ‘I can't wait much longer.'

‘Absolutely not,' said Matt, flicking the indicator to turn left off the main road.

‘Oh please.'

‘Not long now.'

The Mini trundled happily between the parked cars and bicycles that lined either side of the quiet north Oxford street. It was midnight but it was also midsummer and not properly dark. The orange glow of streetlights combined with the moon shining down from an almost cloudless sky lent the houses and trees a strange gilded quality. Matt was glad of the twilight because he couldn't have done what he was planning if it had been pitch dark.

‘Matt,' pleaded Natasha, almost bouncing up and down in her seat.

He grinned. ‘Patience.'

Seeing the gates of the boathouse ahead, he managed to squeeze the Mini into a space between a scooter and some yellow lines, then got out and opened the door for Natasha. ‘Okay. You can look now.'

She took her hands from her face and seemed puzzled. ‘Oh.'

‘I thought we'd take a stroll in the moonlight,' said Matt.

‘A stroll?'

‘Yes. What did you think we were going to do?'

He almost laughed at her disappointment but took her hand and led her between the stone pillars and into the grounds. The river glittered in the distance. It had been years since he'd been there, but like so many things in Oxford, virtually nothing had changed. The boathouse was shuttered and dark. The water was dappled silver in the moonlight, fringed with tiny eddies where black willow trees dipped their branches into the water. Dozens of shallow wooden punts were moored side by side against the duckboard jetty. A few were half drawn up a stone slipway next to a wall.

Stepping into one, Matt rearranged the seat cushions into a makeshift bed.

‘Oh my word. Now I see what you have in mind,' said Natasha.

Matt took off his jacket and laid it on the cushions. ‘I'm afraid it's a bit damp in here, but there's not a lot I can do about that.'

‘I think I can cope,' said Natasha. She was purring again, which he took to be a promising sign.

The punt wobbled a little as he helped her climb inside, barefoot. Natasha let out a giggle.

‘What's up?'

‘Have you seen the number of this punt?'

‘What?' Matt glanced at the figures painted on the back of the seat. ‘Sixty-nine. How appropriate. I hope we can live up to it.'

He kissed her, softly and deeply, and started to unbutton the front of her dress, knowing she had no bra on underneath and that her golden breasts would spill out. But Natasha clamped her fingers firmly over his hand. ‘Now, Minty, slow down. I want to make the most of this.'

He propped himself up on one elbow, watching her open her tiny evening bag. He guessed what was coming next, and sure enough, she drew out a wrap of white powder and held it out to him, licking her lips seductively. Matt had been offered almost everything in his time, including some substances he didn't think Natasha could possibly imagine existed, but he managed to look surprised nonetheless.

‘Tasha. You disappoint me. There's no need for that,' he said sternly.

‘Now don't be a bore, Minty. I didn't have you down as one of the thought police. You know how amazing this could be.'

He kissed her lips softly. ‘It will be amazing. But there's no need for you to waste that when I've got a much more exciting alternative.'

Her green eyes shone like a cat's in the moonlight as he slid his fingers into the inside pocket of his jacket. He could hear her breathing quicken as he pulled out a twist of brown paper. Inside were two pieces of twig.

She seemed confused.

‘I promised you amazing. You're going to get amazing,' said Matt.

‘Is this from… from the jungle?'

He winked. ‘Well, it's not from the local pharmacy, I can tell you that.'

‘What's in it? Nothing made from the blood of cockroaches or anything like that, I hope!'

Matt smiled and ran his finger along her leg, and she shivered. He slid his hand under the hem of her dress until he reached the top of her thigh, which confirmed his diagnosis that she wasn't wearing any knickers.

‘Tasha, if you want an extraordinary experience, you have to be prepared to go to extraordinary lengths. Now, just close your eyes and open your mouth.'

As he broke off a tiny piece of bark and placed it on her tongue, the warmth of her mouth around his finger made him realize he had no need of stimulants. He couldn't wait much longer.

‘Do I shwallow or sthuck?' mumbled Natasha.

‘Chew. I'll take some too. Now lie back and try and relax.'

‘What will it do?'

He smiled. ‘Wait and see.'

Some time later, Matt lay gazing up at the stars as Natasha regained her breath. He knew they'd have to leave soon; it was a miracle no one had heard them before, the noise she'd made as he'd made love to her the second time. The first time she'd expressed her pleasure by digging her nails into his backside until he'd almost squealed himself.

‘What the fack was that stuff?' she demanded as they got dressed. ‘And please, please, can I have some more? That was the most amazing shag I've ever had, and you, Minty, were enormous, if you don't mind me saying. I want every time to be like that.'

Matt patted her bottom. ‘I can't tell you. In fact, no one really knows. I was given them by some tribal elder and he said he'd have to shoot me with a poisoned arrow if I found out the ingredients.'

‘Facking hell!'

‘Quite. I didn't dare bring any more through customs. Now, you're getting cold. Shall we go and have a coffee?'

‘Just a coffee?' said Natasha, her face crestfallen.

He kissed her as he ushered her into the car, trying not to laugh. He'd known the so-called herbal aphrodisiac he'd given her couldn't possibly work, but Natasha had believed it would give her the shag of a lifetime and that was all that mattered. ‘You've had more than the recommended dose already, I'm afraid. If we do it again, I'll have to give it to you straight. You'll have to make do with the ordinary variety.'