Carrie Goes Off the Map (9 page)

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.'

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?'

‘Yes.'

Oh yes, she thought as the waves thundered up the beach. A few people were surfing and a couple had let their dog off the lead. It was barking as it chased the waves.

‘This is where Huw proposed.'

‘And you think it was a good idea to come here?' said Matt.

‘I don't know if it was a good idea, but I do know there's something I have to do.'

‘Do you want me to come with you or wait here?'

‘I don't mind,' she said, but she had already started walking onto the sand. The truth was, she really didn't mind whether Matt was there or not. He'd already melted away, and all she could see now was Huw.

Huw racing her along the beach, slowing down until she'd nearly caught him, then setting off again. Teasing her. They'd come to Devon on a rare weekend away from the farm. She'd booked them into a gorgeous country manor hotel and they'd walked to the beach before they'd even unpacked.

She smelled the air again, sharp with the tang of seaweed. She tasted the salt on her tongue. She saw Huw lose his footing as he glanced back at her. He'd tripped on a piece of rock and hit the sand like a falling tree. When he hadn't moved, she'd rushed to his side, gasping for breath. He'd lain so still, she'd thought he'd really hurt himself but as she'd leaned over him, he'd opened his eyes, grinned, and pulled her down on top of him.

‘I thought you'd knocked yourself out!' she'd told him.

‘After tripping over on a beach? What d'you take me for. A bloody wuss? Carrie, I've played front-row forward for Packley.'

‘Then I should be angry with you for making me think you really were hurt.'

‘But you aren't angry with me. You love me.'

She'd thrown back her head and laughed. ‘You hope I do.'

She could feel his arms around her now, pulling her face to his, kissing her deeply, with little finesse but loads of enthusiasm. When he'd finally stopped starving her of oxygen, he'd kept his arms round her and said: ‘You'd better love me, because I want us to get married.'

And she'd said yes.

She'd hesitated over bringing Matt here because she'd thought she might make a fool of herself. Yet strangely enough, now that she was here, she felt calm. Slipping her hand inside the pocket of her jeans, her fingers found the smooth circle of her engagement ring and drew it out. She'd collected it from the farm along with all her other worldly goods and kept it ever since, not knowing what to do with it. She'd taken it on the trip hoping to find some place to get rid of it. She'd thought of chucking it off the Eiffel Tower or into some Italian lake. Anywhere that took her fancy at the time. Yet now she was here, back in this place, there was only one option.

She heard footsteps on the shingle and felt Matt beside her.

Twisting round, she stared at him. He held her gaze steadily but she tore her eyes away. She walked towards the waves, lifted her arm, and threw the ring high into the air. The instant it left her hand, it disappeared against the sea and sky and didn't even make a splash.

‘Was that supposed to be symbolic?' he asked as she picked her way over the shingle towards him.

‘I've no idea,' she said, watching the surfers laughing as they came out of the water, dragging their boards behind them. ‘I know you think I'm certifiable, but I had to do that. I can't expect you to understand.'

‘Then I won't try to, but I do know this. I'm bloody starving, and if I spend much more time in that van, I'm the one who's going to need certifying.'

She scanned his face. Even though he'd been asleep, he looked tired. There was stubble on his chin, and though it was no business of hers, she hoped he wasn't thinking of regrowing the beard. Without it he was… she could admit it to herself because she had no connection to him… he was actually very handsome. Like a dirty Mr. Darcy, she thought.

‘What's so funny?' he said as she caught her lip in her teeth, trying not to laugh.

‘You are. Where's your stamina? We've only been together half a day and you can't cope,' she teased.

‘What I need is some food and a place to stretch out. I'm six foot four, if you hadn't noticed.'

‘Then we'd better find a campsite and you'd better hope you can get the cooker working,' she said, laughing inwardly at the expression on his face.

***

After rejecting one or two places, they finally pulled into a small site next to a hideaway beach.

‘It seems a bit basic. What do you think?' Carrie asked at Matt surveyed the field.

‘Have you ever lived in the jungle?' he said.

‘Right. I see what you mean. It'll do fine then.'

They managed to fix the awning to Dolly and Matt started getting out the camping gear. Carrie was struggling to light the gas on the stove when she heard his mobile go off. She tried not to listen to the conversation, realizing there were going to be a lot of moments like this over the next few weeks. Moments of intimacy.

After a few minutes he popped his head inside the van. ‘You managed to get it going?' he asked, seeing the old-fashioned kettle hissing merrily.

‘Easy peasy,' she said, covering the pile of spent matches by the stove. She wondered if it was Natasha he'd been speaking to on the phone.

‘Matt? What does Natasha think about you coming away with another woman?'

When he answered, he sounded faintly annoyed, and she almost wished she hadn't asked.

‘Natasha doesn't think anything. In fact, she doesn't know yet. I didn't know myself until this morning, remember.'

‘And will you tell her?' she said carefully, pouring water into two mugs. She turned to find him standing in the entrance to the van, hands resting on either side of the frame.

‘Next time I speak to her. But she's far too busy with her job to worry about stuff like that.'

He took the mug with a gruff thanks and they stood drinking their coffee, talking about the site. After a while, Matt drained his mug and said, ‘I'd better fetch some food. We passed a shop up the road on the way here. I'll only be ten minutes. What kind of beer do you drink?'

‘Anything will do,' she said, surprised and amused at his domesticity.

An hour later, when he still hadn't returned, she was just pissed off. Slamming the door of the van, she headed off towards the sea.