Chapter Thirty
Thirty
Dylan ruins my moment though by coughing loudly from the kitchen.
I glare at him before striding back to my room to pack the final bits of my bag.
But he’s right, isn’t he? I can’t be trusted to make sensible decisions right now.
I’ve made a pact with myself and that shitty paper napkin from the pub.
No relationships. Not for a whole year.
I take the opportunity to check my phone whilst nobody is around.
It riles up the horrible kind of adrenaline in me.
I can’t ignore the creeping feeling that if I don’t call Adam back, I’m going to be dealing with a cold shoulder for days.
It’s there whether I like it or not. I spoke to a therapist about it for a few weeks in the autumn.
And she explained it could take time to unlearn this reaction.
It could be years and still I will experience that tummy-wrenching moment whenever I perceive danger.
He’s sent another text message, but I decide not to read it this time. I delete it before I change my mind.
He doesn’t get to occupy any space in my head if I can help it.
I spend the next fifteen minutes working on calm breathing to rid myself of the anxiety, cramming my clothes into my suitcase only to realise I should’ve put my shoes in first. Thankfully, I just need to bung it all in the boot of Freddie’s car, so I grab a plastic bag and toss them in there.
Why is it always harder to pack everything on the way home?
“Are you ready?” Freddie appears at my bedroom door with his hand out, offering to take my bag for me.
“I’ve got it,” I say but he stays where he is. He squeezes the back of his neck, his gaze running over me like he’s trying to memorise what I look like. It’s the kind of intense thing he does that turns my core muscles to jelly.
I laugh, suddenly nervous again. But the good kind of nervous: the warm, fizzing kind. “What?”
“I just… I’m worried when we go, you’ll see this differently.”
“Differently?”
“Yeah. Like I’m just playing you.” He grimaces. “I heard Dylan.”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry. He can be quite loud.”
Freddie nods. “What does all this mean for us? I don’t want to be the guy who ruins your plans.”
I wilt. “You’re not that guy.”
“Then tell me how this works without breaking your own rules.”
I shrug helplessly. “I don’t know right now. I still have a lot of figuring out to do. I feel like I was honest about that…” I think about how Adam’s text made me feel and it hits home just how badly I need this time. Even if it means losing out on this, with Freddie.
“You were honest. I don’t want you to run into something new with me if you still have things to figure out. So…” He sighs heavily, leaning on the door like it’s a kind of life support.
I pout. Am I experiencing the fourth rejection of the week from this man? Or is this me rejecting him? “So…”
“I guess I’ll wait.”
“You’ll wait?”
He nods. “I’ve waited a long time for you. Although I never actually thought it would happen. So, yeah. I’ll wait for you. Just let me know if you need a travel partner, yeah?”
I can’t even fight the grin. “You’d travel with me?”
“Of course I would. I’ll go anywhere with you,” he says as he reaches out to tuck the loose strands of hair behind my ears.
He holds me in place, tracing the line of my chin until he pinches the end softly and brings me closer; his other hand fists in my sweatshirt and pulls me into him. I gasp as his lips press against mine.
I reach up, tangling my arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of him. It’s a gentle, familiar kiss that’s more intimate than before, as if we’re relaxed enough to take our time and revel in each other.
But we’re distracted by a sharp laugh.
I pull apart. Sam is in the upstairs hallway. His eyes are wide, flitting between Freddie and myself. My heart races in my chest. I grab Freddie and try to push him behind me, but he doesn’t budge, staring back at his brother.
“Sam…” Freddie starts, but Sam holds his hand up.
“No.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“NO.”
“Sam, I swear we were going to tell you when…” I start.
He scoffs, his eyes falling back to me. “I’m not mad at you, Hattie.” Then he turns and strides away.
“Come on, Sam, wait up,” Freddie calls, striding behind him. I jog down the stairs and across the living space to keep up with them.
Sam just keeps walking, shaking his head and muttering expletives. He storms straight out of the lodge, past the car and down the snowy drive until he’s disappeared amongst the trees.
Freddie doesn’t follow him far as he hasn’t got his boots on.
I pause at the door, hugging myself against the chill and chewing on my bottom lip.
Shit.
“Did Sam finally figure it out?” Sara asks.
I turn to see all three of them waiting by the kitchen, their bags already loaded into the car. I give Priya an admonishing glance. “Did you all know?”
Priya snorts. “Hattie, you snuck out the room and back in and thought I wouldn’t notice?”
“You were snoring.”
“I still noticed you weren’t in your bed. And besides, you were sharing a very cosy discussion in the dark last night. I’m not stupid.”
Dylan nods. “I caught them frolicking in the snow.”
“Dyl!”
“I noticed them eyeing each other on the drive here,” Sara says. “They thought I was listening to music, so they didn’t know I could hear them flirting. Seriously, it was so obvious. I feel a bit sorry for Sam, actually. He’s oblivious, isn’t he?”
Freddie comes back in flustered, stripping his thick socks off which are now damp from melting snow. “I need to go after him.”
“He won’t get far,” Sara says, waving a hand dismissively. “Let’s pack up and go. We’ll catch him up.”
I run upstairs to grab the last of my things, throwing my coat and shoes on. Freddie hovers by the stairs outside, ready to catch me, I assume, which is pointless because I’ve damn well learnt my lesson now.
We all clamber into the car then realise it’s full even without Sam. “Oh bugger. I didn’t think about that,” Freddie remarks. “Someone will have to sit on someone’s lap until we find Dylan’s car.”
“I volunteer Hattie on your lap,” Priya says.
“Hilarious,” I say.
Sara snorts. “Sam would seethe.”
“Can we stop with this line of joking, please?”
The car has been running for twenty minutes already to warm up and defrost so at least it’s cosy. Freddie puts it into first gear. I instinctively grab the door handle, but it drives onto the track Freddie spent all morning digging out smoothly.
We relax.
“Gosh, it is pretty, isn’t it?” Priya remarks. “Like a winter wonderland.” Which is funny since she had zero interest in actually exploring said wonderland while she was here. “Thanks for inviting me, guys. I’ve felt a bit left out since having Ollie.”
“But we always invite you,” Sara says, a bit stoney for someone who’s barely even seen me in the last six months thanks to her insane work schedule.
“I know. But it’s different now, isn’t it. I don’t expect you guys to be super interested in Ollie, but I can’t just go out in the evenings like I used to. And neither of you want to go to a soft play.”
“Ew, no,” Sara agrees. “But we still love you.”
“I’d go to a soft play. Sounds fun,” I add.
“But neither of you are even free during the day. I’ve had to make loads of new mum friends.
Which is lovely. It is. But the only thing we have in common is we all own small humans who don’t sleep, poop a lot and sometimes publicly ruin all your clothes with sick when you don’t have spares.
I’ve never been around a group of women who can all pull out a pack of wet wipes at a second’s notice like they can. It’s both fascinating and jarring.”
Sara’s face in the rear-view mirror is a picture.
“Doesn’t sound like your cup of tea?” I ask her.
She doesn’t even try to hide it. “Absolutely not.”
“Well, I’ve hated being so far away from Ollie,” Priya adds. “But it’s nice to feel like I have my friends back.”
I twist in my seat to squeeze her hand. “You’ll always have me. I guess we’re all just experiencing life at different paces. And I’m sure one day, I’ll be coming to you will all the baby questions.”
Which, oof. I can’t help but check what Freddie’s reaction is to that statement. Sara’s eyes go wide, and I inwardly kick myself.
But Freddie is unfazed. He’s too busy concentrating on the drive to pay me any attention. I swallow, pleased to have survived that awkward moment when he says, “I’ll add that to the list.”
“Right. Good.” Mortifying.
Napkin rules, Hattie. Napkin rules.
The car drifts a little on one of the bends. I spin back into my seat, pressing my feet against the floor like I have invisible brakes. But Freddie handles it expertly.
We drive for about fifteen minutes at barely five miles an hour when I spot Sam stomping off up ahead.
Freddie exhales audibly at the sight of his brother.
I fight the urge to reach across and squeeze his leg.
I’ve never seen him so worried before. He’s almost protective and I wonder if he was ever secretly like that growing up. A part of him I didn’t get to see.
But I keep my hands to myself as we have an enamoured audience across the back seats so it’s not the time.
The lane is less snowy the further we drive down the hill. But the surface is still frozen over, the ice compacted by tracks, wide enough to be tractor tyres. It makes for a smooth drive, despite the wheels making a crunching sound.
That is until we close in on Sam, the lane getting steeper and steeper… He’s barely twenty metres ahead, his red coat very easy to spot, when Freddie tries to slow down, but all the car does is make an awful, grinding sound as if it’s fighting for friction.
“Shit,” Freddie hisses. The car begins to swerve. He hits the brakes but all it does is speed us up.
At the bottom of the slope, there’s very clearly a vertical drop between the trees. And if Freddie can’t stop us, we’re going over.
Should I open the door and roll?
I tense all over, squealing.
“Oh hell, we’re going to die!” Sara screeches from the middle seat.
I grab hold of the handle as Freddie clambers with the steering wheel, yanking on the handbrake. He tries his best to right the car. He turns it into the snowy drifts either side of the lane to gain purchase.
The wheels crunch and groan.
But Sam doesn’t look back. He’s right in the way.
Freddie hits the horn to warn him.
Sam spins around, his eyes wide. He slips a bit when he sees how close we are and dives to the side, disappearing into the snow. Freddie finally manages to ram the car into a bank to stop it.
We both fly out to look for Sam, trying and failing to walk up the ice-covered surface where he bailed.
“Sam?” Freddie calls out when he doesn’t automatically spot him. There’s a steep bank where he fell.
“Down here!” Sam grunts.
We bend over the muddied drift. Freddie holds onto a tree trunk at the top of the bank to help grab his brother and haul him back onto the path. Sam brushes himself down of mud and snow and grit then stands tall, staring Freddie down.
Freddie nods. “Go on then. Give it to me.”