Chapter Twelve
Kat’s To-Do List
Tent
Sleeping bag
Sleeping pad
Pillow
Headlamp
Camp chair
Camp table
Lantern
Fairy lights
I did move out of the house. Technically.
The day after Liam’s visit, I walked to the little hardware store on the high street.
The owner, Ravi, was a sweet, shy man dressed in a leather apron with Heath Hardware embossed on the front.
He helped me pick out what I needed – a tent, a sleeping bag, a headlamp, and a lantern.
All things suggested when I’d googled ‘camping essentials’.
For once, I thanked my neurodivergence for allowing me to think outside the box.
This was genius. Not only had I resolved the issue, but I’d already planned exactly where to pitch my tent so Liam and the crew wouldn’t see my set-up from the house when they arrived tomorrow.
Ravi helped me with my haul to my Uber, the grey sky above us. I wasn’t risking walking down the high street and someone recognising me. I’d give it an hour before Liam or Lydia found out. Everyone knew everyone here.
‘I hope that’s everything you need. If you think of anything else, just let us know. If there is anything we don’t stock, I can order it for you,’ Ravi said warmly.
‘Thank you so much, Ravi. I’m sure I’ll be back.’
Almost a week here, I was still shocked to find everyone so welcoming.
Did I love it or hate it?
As I assembled my tent half an hour later, a little guilt crept in about my ‘technical manoeuvring’ around my agreement with Liam. But I knew it was better this way. I would be comfortable with my own company, even if that comfort were the cold, hard ground.
I rubbed my shoulders as the chilly evening set in, glancing up at the sun that was setting behind a thick blanket of dark grey clouds.
I climbed into my tent and shuffled into the sleeping bag, pulling a Kindle out of my bag and did a little wiggle of excitement.
This was cosy, a perfect backdrop for the fantasy series with fairies that Willa had recommended.
I felt truly immersed into the story as the characters camped across ancient woods.
I got to a spicy scene set in a tent, which was very… enlightening when the rain began.
It’s fine, I repeated to myself. I’d expected some rain at about seven p.m.
The pitter-patter of the rain was nice anyway – nature’s ASMR.
Twenty minutes in, the gentle pitter-patter morphed into an onslaught, and I couldn’t concentrate on the words on the screen. The rain pelted the tent, and the sound became deafening. I put my hands over my ears.
The wind picked up.
A gale whipped my tent from side to side.
‘Fuck,’ I shouted when the water began to seep into the tent, which I had to admit was on the cheaper side.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ I muttered as I tried to find where the water was coming in. I blocked it with some of the blankets and towels, which worked well.
I sighed and settled back into my sleeping bag. No excited wiggle this time, but it was fine. Everything had a thin layer of mist, but I wasn’t a quitter.
I frowned when I heard what sounded like a branch breaking.
A wet panel of tent hit my face.
It wasn’t a branch that snapped.
It was one of the tent poles.
‘For fuck’s sake!’ I shouted as more water began to trickle in. I shoved my boots back on and climbed out, tried to wrestle the tent pole back into shape. I cursed my dad for not teaching me how to camp properly on all those trips to Cornwall or the Cotswolds.
Rain pelted against my face, and my hair and clothes were soaked. Deep down, I knew that even if I managed to get the tent back up, I would never be able to get dry and warm again.
It was hopeless.
I gave a useless, frustrated cry.
Then, the garden lit up, light cutting through the heavy sheets of rain briefly before it was extinguished.
Through the rain and darkness, a figure approached the garden through the side gate, and my heart started to pound quickly. Great, now I was going to be murdered in my own garden.
‘Who is that?’ I shouted.
‘It’s me,’ a deep voice shouted back, and my heart sank.
Liam’s face came into view as he approached the tent, his jaw set. His eyes scanned over me, grazing over my T-shirt that was wet and stuck to my body, and flickered away quickly. His face morphed into a grimace when he took in the pitiful sight of my tent.
Liam crossed his arms, ‘So, this was your big plan, huh?’
‘Are you going to stand there, or are you going to help me?’ I shouted back, trying to hold up the broken tent pole. ‘Have you got any duct tape in your van?’
‘You can’t camp out here, Red.’
‘It’s fine,’ I said while rain ran down the sides of my face. ‘It will settle down.’
‘This is Manchester, remember? It’s kind of known for the rain.’
‘That’s a myth. There is more rainfall in Cardiff.’
‘Semantics.’
‘It’s true. It will be fine. It’s supposed to be heavy for another twenty minutes, then it will be fine.’
‘Kat –’
‘There isn’t even that many centimetres of rainfall due –’
‘Get in the van, Kat,’ Liam growled. ‘We can debate rainfall statistics when we’re not getting soaked.’
The rain got heavier and joined forces with a gale-force wind. Liam turned on the heel of his boots, heading back for the van.
Was he going to leave me out here?
I made a frustrated noise. I was out of options and shaking from the cold.
So I gave in and ran after Liam, climbing into the safe harbour of his warm van.
The smell of wood and pine filled my senses.
It was tidy and I wasn’t surprised. He had the air of someone who had an anal process for everything and would level anyone with a look if they went against his system.
He was the opposite of me. I never did the same task the same way.
It was partly why I didn’t trust myself to go freelance, even if I could make more money.
I know I wouldn’t file my taxes on time, and the HMRC would arrest me.
I’d be pulled out of my home, handcuffed. And I’d deserve it.
I glanced at Liam through the wet hair stuck to my forehead. We were both panting and pushing the water off our faces. Frustration rolled off us both in waves.
‘How did you know I was here?’ I demanded.
‘Why are you so stubborn?’ Liam’s voice was like thunder. ‘Next time, slip Ravi a tenner to keep quiet. I overheard him talking in the club about a “pretty but clueless” redhead buying a load of camping equipment, and I put two and two together.’
‘Ravi said that?’ My mouth fell open.
Liam shook his head, ‘Ravi looks innocent, but he’s the biggest gossip in Everly Heath. He gives Pat a run for her money. I was happy to leave you to your stupid plan.’
‘Then why did you come? Why not leave me? I would have been fine.’
Anger flashed in his eyes. ‘Because you could have hurt yourself. I sat at home, watching the rain come down heavier and heavier, and I –’ He stopped.
‘I didn’t fancy calling the police about a dead body when I came into work tomorrow.
I was going to text Lydia or Brian but you were insistant you didn’t want to ask them –’ He petered off, running his hand through his wet hair, now jet black.
The anger dissipated from his features, replaced with a bone-deep kind of tiredness I was familiar with. Burnout. Liam was burnt out.
Had he even realised yet?
I reached out. I couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. I touched his arm.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked as Liam’s eyes tracked my movement. His eyes came up to mine, frustration burning there now.
‘I’m fine,’ he said through gritted teeth.
‘You seem – like burnt out.’
He laughed humourlessly. ‘Of course you’d be the only one to notice.’
‘What do you mean?’ I frowned, pulling my arm away.
Liam sighed. ‘I’m fine. I’m tired.’
Guilt thrummed through me, ‘I know I said I’d sort it’ – I rubbed my face, searching for the words to explain – ‘but I just… I just can’t ask them. And I can’t afford an Airbnb, even with you not charging me for labour. It’s so expensive as it is. I can’t believe how naive I was about the costs.’
When Liam sent over a quote for materials for the project, I had to sit down.
I hadn’t realised how the prices had increased massively since the pandemic, and it sent me into another spiral of self-hatred.
I was so incredibly unprepared and naive about this project.
Luckily, the money from my dad’s estate barely covered it.
I was betting I would make some profit on this house.
It both thrilled and scared the shit out of me.
I lowered my hands. Peeking at Liam, I prayed I saw some semblance of understanding on his face. I literally couldn’t afford to scare him off.
‘Okay.’ Liam let out a harsh breath. ‘I’ve got somewhere you can stay. You can’t camp outside for weeks. We’re due rain for the rest of February. And March.’
I swear, the rain bombarding the van was a paid actor.
‘You can stay at mine. Don’t argue with me until I’m finished.
I have an annexe in my garden. I built it for my dad during the pandemic.
He had a health scare, and I wanted somewhere for him to stay.
But he is as stubborn as you, so he has never used it.
It has a little kitchen to make food, and you can have the privacy you want. ’
My mouth hung open. This was incredibly generous and would resolve my problem, but the thought of seeing Liam every day made me feel a bit…
funny. I had pins and needles running down my back and guilt thrumming under my ribcage.
I would be a burden. I would be messy. I would probably accidentally break the shower or smash his collection of vintage Charles and Diana mugs from 1996.
‘People will talk,’ I said.
‘Talk about what?’
‘Me and you.’
Liam’s eyes were laser-focused on me. ‘And what would they say?’
‘You know – that you and I…’ I gestured between us.
‘That you and I what?’ he asked, his brows furrowed.
‘That you and I are, like, together.’
‘Together like sat in this van?’ he asked.