Chapter Thirteen
By the time we trade again, my whole body is tense from bracing – against both the road and the atmosphere in the car.
I pull in behind Jed, who stops, revives and survives by running round the car twice and then drinking an entire bottle of kombucha.
Declan slides his papers back into his bag while I unclick my seat belt.
The air outside is even crisper than before, and in the loud silence of the empty road I’m hyper aware of the crunch of my footsteps along loose dirt and gravel, of the moment Declan and I pass each other, and of the thud of both our doors as we seal ourselves back in again.
After stepping outside, the air in the car feels thicker, and I pull out my phone to avoid having to think about it. There’s a message from Bri, one from my mother, and about ten from Yumi.
I open the message from Bri first – it’s to both me and Declan.
YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST! it says. E-SEE YOU THIS AFTERNOON! Then there’s a love heart, a party popper and a tree emoji. I send back a thumbs up.
The message from Mum is less effusive. Just a simple: Can you please tell me the address of the bookshop? I don’t have the headspace right now to write back.
The first of Yumi’s messages is a picture of her behind the counter at Brooks’.
Shop hasn’t burnt down yet!
The next nine messages are pictures and links: a series of fake moustaches, glasses and noses. There’s even a site that sells stick-on beauty spots.
In case anything happens and you need to go into hiding after the tour.
I half snort, and I feel rather than see Declan glance at me. I don’t look at him.
You don’t think the police would be suspicious of the fake nose/moustache combo?
She writes back almost immediately.
Did you not read the description on the website? They are Very High Quality.
Ah. I can’t believe I missed that.
That’s why you’ve got me. I’ve got your back, boss. You all ready for the event tonight?
My fingers hover for way too long over my response. I finally settle on As ready as I’ll ever be, which feels both true and untrue.
I clear my throat. ‘Do you know how many people are coming tonight?’ I ask Declan.
His hand tightens on the wheel. ‘A hundred and fifty,’ he says.
Brooks’ isn’t big, but we’ve organised events in nearby parks that have had up to that many people before, and I feel my shoulders relax a little. Maybe this will be okay.
Then Jed turns off the road ahead of us, and Declan follows, slowing a little as the texture of the road changes from gravel to dirt. The car bumps, and my seat belt jerks against my shoulder. I reach out to grip the side of the door.
‘Will everyone be driving in this way?’ I ask as Declan skirts round the edge of what I’m pretty sure is an actual crater.
‘There’s another road that leads to the other side of the clearing, but it’s too far to carry the books and equipment,’ Declan says. ‘Jed will meet attendees there and walk them in.’ He glances at my hand on the door, but doesn’t say anything, and I find his lack of remark somehow more unnerving.
Declan slows down, his hands steady on the wheel despite the rough terrain.
Yumi would love this. And, even three years ago, Gran would’ve been whooping with every bump.
But here I am, gripping on for dear life.
I’m not good at this, and the realisation is somehow disappointing.
Like I’ve already failed at finding myself in the wilderness.
We finally pull into an area marked by timber posts and logs that might once have been a car park, but now is just potholes and dirt.
Declan parks the car towards the end, in one of the few places where the wheels can sit on level ground.
He still doesn’t speak, just unclips his seat belt and gets out of the car.
I step out my side to find my legs are shaky from clenching them against the seat.
Still, it’s a relief to be standing on solid ground.
Jed is already out and stretching. ‘Nothing like a few potholes to wake you up,’ he says cheerfully, and I manage half a smile.
Declan nods absentmindedly, grabs his bag out of the back of the car and then starts down the path into the forest.
‘A man on a mission,’ says Jed approvingly, hefting his own bag onto his shoulder. I hurry to grab mine, then fall into step behind them both.
The path in is slightly soft underfoot, as though it hasn’t quite dried from recent rain.
I’m still feeling wobbly, and my brain is flicking between Declan’s mood and the logistics of carting a hundred books to wherever we’re going to set up, but walking into the trees is .
. . nice. Declan leads us with steps that barely make a sound, and Jed is whistling softly beside me.
We’re not far from the ‘car park’, but the forest feels thick almost immediately, beautiful, tall trees all vying for a place in the canopy overhead and coaxing the air temperature down.
It feels quiet, but not silent, as though all the sounds of daily life have been filtered out, magnifying everything else: the thud of my shoe against a tree root, the whispers of the forest surrounding us, the birds that Jed every few steps cocks an ear to listen to – although some of those I would swear are actually silence.
Or only audible to dogs and superhumans.
After less than a minute, the path opens up into a small clearing.
The early afternoon light twists through the trees, speckling it with a warmth that is more visual than physical.
Beyond the clearing is a small, raised wooden cabin with a wrap-around balcony, which according to Bri’s notes is where we’ll be sleeping for the next few nights.
Declan makes his way towards it, and Jed and I trot obediently along behind him.
Or, at least, I trot. I don’t think there’s anywhere that Jed doesn’t march.
The wood of the cabin is dark and damp, and its scent hits me as soon as we get close – a deep, earthy smell that reminds me of the cubby house Gran and Grandpa had in their backyard when I was a kid.
It feels both unfamiliar and yet like home – one of those smells that you know in your bones, but that is slightly off in a different context.
It makes me want to set up a shop to sell pretend ice cream and tea, like I used to in the cubby house.
Until I remember that I will be setting up a literal shop – their bookshop – and their absence manages to hit me in the gut in a new way.
I rest a hand on the thick plank that serves as a stair rail, imagining what it would be like if they were here.
Gran would be bustling around, finding a way to make tea for everyone, and Grandpa would be quietly taking everything in. Eventually, though, his eyes would find a way back to her, the way they always did.
‘Do you think she knows?’ he whispered to me once.
‘Knows what?’ I’d asked.
‘That she’s the story.’
Declan walks up the three steps to the deck and I blink back the tears that have gathered at the edge of my eyes.
He doesn’t pay any attention to me anyway, just stops at the top to look out over the clearing.
Jed marches up and across the deck, straight through the front door, although it’s not so much a door as a gap where a door would go if the builder of the cabin had been inclined to put one in.
‘Excellent accommodation,’ calls Jed from inside. ‘I’m just going to do a quick snake check.’
He says it very casually. As though snakes are not only a possibility, but a likelihood. I’m not terrified of snakes, but a snake check is not something that I want to actively participate in.
‘I’m just going to check something out here,’ I sort of mumble, mostly to myself. I’m half expecting Declan to laugh, or to smirk, or at least to say something – but he just keeps staring out into the clearing.
There’s a tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there earlier; his white T-shirt pulls against his back while his hands rest on the railing in front of him.
‘What’s wrong?’ I blurt out, because of course I do .
‘What?’ says Declan, looking towards me. Like he didn’t even realise I was standing beside him. He frowns, rolls his shoulders and looks out at the clearing again.
‘Bri’s plan was that I speak from up here,’ he says, before I can repeat my question.
He points to a space on the other side of the clearing.
‘Can we set the sales table up over there?’ I straighten my shoulders.
Despite the fact that I’m still not sure I want to be here, I do want to do a good job.
‘Sure,’ I say, keeping my voice even. ‘I might ask Jed to help.’
‘Sure,’ echoes Declan.
Then he goes back to staring into the clearing.
Afternoon arrives faster than the snake Jed found in the rafters of the cabin.
My hands are itching to text Bri, to ask what kind of insurance cover they’ve got for the tour, but Jed assures me that the snake is a non-venomous type whose bite is a bit of a sting and a good story. And while I love a good story . . . I still don’t want to get bitten by a snake.
At 3.40 p.m., he and Declan get ready to start down the path towards the alternative entrance, taking spare gumboots and insect repellent in case anyone needs it.
They’re both going to collect attendees, leaving me alone in the wilderness.
Before they leave, Declan asks me if I can set up the call with Bri on his computer.
He’s hesitant unlocking his laptop, but he doesn’t make any sarcastic remarks about snooping through his private documents, not even when I half raise my eyebrows.
He’s been different since he pulled the papers from his bag in the car. Quieter and more distracted. And I’m trying to tell myself that I’m imagining it. Or, if I’m not imagining it, that I don’t care, that it doesn’t matter that the man is a freaking chameleon.
So I don’t ask him if he’s okay, and obviously I don’t actually snoop through his computer, because that would be an insane breach of privacy and my eyebrows are all bark and no bite . . .