The Harder They Fall (41 page)

“Excuse me.”

The voice was small and apologetic and directed at Eleanor. She looked up at the not so small or apologetic-looking owner.

“Err, sorry to ask this,” he continued, “but could you do that somewhere else?”

“Like where?”

“Somewhere a little more private. There is a changing facility in the disabled toilets.”

“And do you eat your dinner in the toilet?”

“Obviously not,” the man said with a false laugh. Josh leaned in and read his badge.

“John Docherty, Assistant Manager.” He looked him straight in the eyes and smiled sweetly. “You realise that you are discriminating against my friend, Mr. Docherty?”

“Not at all,” he laughed again. Nonchalance with a touch of nervousness. He evidently hadn’t expected a fight. “It’s just that it distresses some of our customers.”

“Then surely you should be tackling their bad attitude, instead of proliferating it?”

“In an ideal world, sir. Unfortunately, we have to cater for a diverse range of customers, and…”

“Including breastfeeding mothers,” Eleanor interrupted. “Can you actually see anything?”

“No, but…”

“And has anyone actually complained? On this occasion, I mean.”

“Well, no, but as I said…”

“Then go away and harass someone else.”

He backed off, but had to get the last word in.

“I’ll have to pass this on to my manager.”

“You do that,” Eleanor shouted after him. He’d wound her up and she was just in the mood for taking on his manager, as well. Their attention had now switched from Andy and Jess, to John Docherty, in muted discussion with a woman they presumed to be the aforementioned manager. He kept pointing over to their group, then turning his head away to talk.

“If he points at me once more, I’m going to go right over there and break his sodding finger,” Eleanor growled.

The manager was shaking her head now, and her assistant walked off, collected a couple of trays of dirty crockery from the trolley and stomped into the kitchen. She watched Eleanor for a moment, then she also walked away.

“Unbelievable!” Josh said. “No apology, or anything! Bloody unbelievable!”

“Ah. I’m used to it.” Eleanor freed herself from Toby’s grip and straightened her top. “Some places are great, but some, like this one, have yet to catch up. Still,” she looked down at Toby’s satisfied, sleepy face, “he’s happy, and that’s all that matters. I’m ready whenever you are, James.”

It was another two hours before they stopped again, but this time it was in the nearest large town to where they would be staying, to stock up on provisions, with Shaunna and Kris taking turns to hold Casper, while the others traipsed the aisles of the tiny supermarket. And once again, they were privy to Jess and Andy’s argument, although were far enough away to avoid hearing most of it. It didn’t look like they were making much progress.

Back to the cars, then, for the final ascent into the mountains, a picturesque ride, as described by Dan and Andy, who weren’t even remotely perturbed by the narrowness of the road, nor the steep drop to their right. Adele clung to the dashboard with her eyes shut.

“Take it easy, Andy,” she squealed for the third time.

“Oh please shut up,” Dan snapped from the back. “You’re in safe hands.”

“I’d much rather you were driving.”

“Andy knows what he’s doing.”

“Ooh-ooh,” Adele wailed. Andy chuckled.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon,” he tried to console her. He wasn’t even concentrating, as his mind kept returning to Jess’s attempts to explain herself. He didn’t want to know and told her as much, but she wouldn’t let it rest and it was starting to make him angry again. He flexed his fingers and balled them into a fist, to remind himself that at least he’d already dealt with half of the problem.

In the Browns’ car, it was James who was feeling the tension the most. Eleanor trusted his driving completely, and the boys were too young to appreciate the potential danger. He switched off the music to help his concentration, and kept a good distance behind Josh.

“We’re not coming here again until you pass your test,” he was saying to George.

“Then we’re not coming here again,” George said ruefully. He’d failed his driving test a couple of months back and had been having enough problems finding the motivation to book another one, without the prospect of this kind of driving to look forward to.

A few cabins, tucked away between the trees, were now coming into view.

“They’re more hills than mountains,” Dan remarked, as they took a hairpin bend upwards; Adele let out a little squeak.

“The cabins look lovely,” Shaunna said. Adele couldn’t see them, because she still had her eyes shut, but Shaunna was right: they really were very impressive. Some were two storeys high, with balconies running around the top floor. Others were on one level, and in all cases they were sturdy, well-kept and very much like what they’d all expected George’s house on the ranch to be, prior to their visit.

“You’re going to have to look soon, Adele,” Dan told her. “You’ve got the directions for where we need to turn off.” She felt around for the sheets of paper and passed them over her shoulder. Dan snatched them from her.

“You’re looking for a right turn, signposted ‘Treetop View’.”

“That’s imaginative,” Andy said dryly.

“How can we turn right?” Adele asked. “We’d fall off the mountain.”

“I really can’t be bothered to explain,” Dan said, rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger.

The same conversation was taking place in the car behind, although George was patiently telling Josh the answer.

“I see,” Josh said when George was done. He felt a bit silly for not thinking it through and could feel himself becoming all hot and bothered. George patted his thigh.

“Never mind. It wouldn’t do to know everything about everything.” Josh gave him a sideways glance and he grinned.

“I’ve never claimed to know everything,” he retorted.

“I’m sorry to have to ask this,” Kris said, leaning forward, “but are we nearly there yet? I’ve got a dreadfully numb bum.”

“Yep,” George said, pointing to the sign up ahead.

They followed Dan’s 4x4 round to the right, then into a steep decline, which levelled out, before turning uphill again, through a copse of trees and to the three cabins. There were others not too far away, but theirs were close enough to be ‘next door’ to each other. Josh waited for Dan to park up outside the furthest of the two larger cabins, then pulled into the space at the side of the other. James rolled past a moment later and reversed into the driveway of the smaller cabin, set on a slightly higher level and at a forty-five degree angle to its neighbour.

“Here we are, then,” James said, unbuckling his seatbelt. Eleanor left the car to talk to the owner of the cabins, the cheque for the key deposit in her hand. The others waited in their respective vehicles, until she had the keys in her possession.

“Shall I go?” George asked, although he was out of the car before anyone had a chance to answer. Adele, representing the ‘Jeffries Contingent’, had already beaten him to it.

“Right,” Eleanor said authoritatively. She passed them each a set of keys. “The little brown one is for the windows. The other two are for the external doors—you’ll have to work out which is which. And this,” she took the keys back from Adele and lifted the one in question free from the rest of the bunch, “is for the lid of the hot tub.”

“Yay!” Adele squealed and jumped up and down.

“And don’t think you’re keeping it all to yourself,” Eleanor added, before she got any ideas.

The rest of the friends were now out of the cars, with Casper liberated and tearing around after Oliver, who was all of a sudden wide awake again and ready to go off exploring. James called him back and told him to stand still.

“We will go and find the playground tomorrow,” he said. Oliver was crestfallen, as he’d already spotted the primary colours of the swings peeking enticingly through the trees.

They all made their way to their homes for the next week, opening cupboards, checking out the bathrooms and trying the beds. Each cabin was the same on the outside, with slight variations in the way the interior was arranged. The two-bedroomed cabin consisted of a lounge at one end, and the largest of the two bedrooms at the other, with the kitchen area separated from the living area by a breakfast bar, the smaller bedroom and bathroom at the juxtaposition of the two larger rooms. The cabin with the hot tub had the same set-up of lounge and kitchen area, with French doors opening out onto the veranda, opposite which was one of what turned out to be two doubles and one twin. The furthest bedroom was the one set out with two single beds, and was where the two Shaunnas were sleeping. Adult Shaunna helped Dan to set up the cotside on the bed nearest the window, before changing out of the clothes she had been travelling in and rejoining the others in the lounge.

The other three-bedroomed cabin was proving to be something more of a challenge. Again, the lounge and kitchen area took up the whole of one end, but this time the single room and bathroom ran along one side, with one of the double/twins opposite and the other across the end of the cabin. However, the problem was that both large bedrooms contained double beds. Even if it hadn’t been necessary to separate Jess and Andy, they would still have been stuck, and the only solution they’d come up with so far was for Josh and George to share a bed. Kris didn’t care where they put him, and offered to share with George, or take the single room—whichever suited them best. Jess, on the other hand, had already taken herself off to the double room at the far end and shut the door, leaving the three men standing in the lounge and scratching their heads.

“I’ll go and get my bags out of the car,” Kris suggested, to give the other two a chance to discuss what they wanted to do. Josh tossed the keys to him and leaned against the breakfast bar.

“I suppose I could always sleep in here,” George said, trying out the sofa for comfort.

“For the whole week?”

“That’s not so long. My mum slept on the sofa for eight years.” Josh raised an eyebrow in query. “It’s only a one-bedroomed flat and I got too big to share with.”

“I really don’t want you sleeping on there. It’s not fair. And it’ll drive Kris insane. You know what he’s like about people sleeping on sofas.”

“I think that only applies to his own,” George said. He assumed a horizontal position and rolled onto his side. “It’s perfectly acceptable, unless you have any better suggestions?”

Josh blew his hair out of his eyes and chewed the inside of his cheek. The pressure was of his own making.

“We can share,” he said in a quiet voice, but not so quiet as to go unheard. George sat up again.

“You don’t want to though.”

“To be honest, I’ve not had long enough to think about it to tell you whether I do or I don’t.”

“But your first instinct was to say no.”

“My first instinct is always to say no. And I don’t really care if you share with Kris, either.”

George sighed. He needed to use the loo, and could hear Kris struggling with his bags at the door. He got up and let him in on his way, leaving Josh to inform him of ‘their’ decision.

“I’m in the single room then, yeah?” Kris called from just outside the bathroom. There was a pause, in which presumably Josh replied, but George didn’t hear what he said. A bedroom door opened, then the outside door opened and closed. George flushed the toilet and washed his hands, impressed to find clean towels and toiletries were included. He opened the miniscule bottle of shower gel and sniffed; it didn’t really smell of anything, but he’d brought a bottle with him anyway. The soap was the generic standard found in hotel rooms, and the shampoo had the same vague floral quality as the shower gel. He put the bottles back where he found them and opened the bathroom door at the same time as Josh opened the bedroom door opposite.

“We’re in here,” he said, dropping the two suitcases next to the bed and sitting down, “and I’m having this side.”

George held back the smile that was trying to fight its way out, but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away. “We can make a wall out of a blanket or something, if you like,” he suggested, for the second time in as many weeks, although the last time it was to Shaunna.

Josh shook his head. “I don’t think that will be necessary, do you?”

It was much too early in the morning to be crying with laughter, but Dan’s comeback was so quick and captured the moment so perfectly. Andy had woken to find that Casper had crept onto the empty side of the double bed at some point during the night, and had made himself very comfortable, with his head on the pillow, a paw positioned under his cheek, just like a human. It was quite a surprise and Andy got a very slobbery lick for his troubles. When he told Dan, he patted his brother on the back and said:

“Well, let’s face it, bro, it’s not the first time you’ve woken up next to a dog, and I don’t imagine it’ll be the last.”

Still giggling in the aftermath, Andy didn’t care that what Dan had said was a cruel insult, because he hated Jess with a passion right now. He didn’t want to have to see her, listen to her, indeed have anything whatsoever to do with her, but was determined that if their falling out did anything to ruin this holiday, then it wouldn’t be of his doing. Thus, when he went outside to hang his towel over the balcony rail and she was doing the same thing, he said good morning and even went as far as asking if she’d slept well. She grunted a response, of sorts, and went back inside.

“And fuck you too,” he said through gritted teeth, and returned to the kitchen, where Dan was trying to make a mat out of a plastic bag to go under his daughter’s highchair so that the inevitable spilt breakfast didn’t land on the carpet. Adele was in the shower and Shaunna was eating toast in the lounge. Andy sat at the breakfast bar and watched little Shaunna bang her spoon into the bowl of cornflakes. Dan froze and put his hand to the back of his neck, scooping away a clump of soggy cereal, which made Andy and grown-up Shaunna hide their faces so that he couldn’t see them laughing. Twice already and it wasn’t yet eight o’clock, Andy mused. He was either having a really great time, or investing heavily in the theory that if he didn’t laugh then there was only one other alternative.