80. Ollie
Chapter 80
Ollie
Megan, Hattie, and Kara share a group hug at the side of the road, and I can’t tell who’s crying the loudest. If I didn’t know how much these three matter to each other, I’d be wondering if she really wanted to come with me at all.
After we got home on Wednesday, and after we made up for lost time in bed, Megan told me how her friends came over that night and convinced her to come on the road with me. I’d been quick to write them off, but after they told me they were giving her space for us to figure things out in our own time, I’m feeling pretty grateful for these women.
I’m not much of a believer in fate, but if Hattie hadn’t moved out at the start of the year, I might never have met the woman I’m about to spend an entire summer having adventures with.
Though, let’s be real. If Megan hadn’t changed her mind, I’m pretty sure I’d have turned the van around less than an hour after leaving. There might be a life out there on the road, but I don’t want it if she’s not in the passenger seat.
“You did all this yourself, mate?” Rob asks, stepping out of the van with Luke behind him. They were keen to have a poke around, and their questions have been a good reminder of just how far I’ve come this year. Six months ago I was sleeping on the bare metal floor with a jacket for a blanket, now I own a home on wheels.
“Most of it. Megan helped with a few things.”
“And I helped cut that hole in the roof,” Mr Porter interrupts. “Very important first step, that was.”
Luke pats me on the back, then lets his arm settle around my shoulders. “Seriously, Ollie. It’s really impressive. I’m tempted to get one of these myself when the baby is a bit older. Be great for some trips to the coast. And Kara could use it to pick up furniture for her interiors clients.”
Behind us, the girls pull apart, and Kara waddles over with Megan by her side. Hattie ducks under Rob’s arm and wraps her arms around his waist. He kisses the top of her head, then tilts her chin up towards him.
“Do you reckon you’d fancy one of these?”
“Yeah, why not,” she shrugs. “We’ve fucked in places more cramped than that.”
“Hattie!” Kara hisses, and Hattie clamps her hand over her mouth.
“Sorry Mr P, sorry Mrs P.”
“My ears are closed when you girls get together,” he says. “Whatever was said, I don’t want to know.”
Megan wipes her eyes with the back of one hand while slipping the other into mine.
“You OK?”
“More than OK,” she smiles, leaning in close. “I love you.”
The whole gang has come to wave us off, and though I felt a small pang of sadness that my family would never do anything like this, I’d much rather be here. It would have been so much worse if I was leaving on my own, but it would also have proved this is the right step for me.
Friendship and community have always been missing from my life. Despite my parents’ vast social network, I never felt like I fit in with anyone, never felt like I mattered. Megan’s talked often about their girls’ nights and their group brunches, and last night she made it clear I’ll be joining them when we’re back from our trip.
I assumed I’d need to travel the length and breadth of the country to find my people, but Megan’s friends are decent folks I reckon I could get on well with. If they’re important to her, they’re important to me, too. I can picture it now, us turning up at Luke and Kara’s place with dessert and gifts for their baby. With parents like them, I bet the kid will be awesome.
“You sure you’ve got all the tools you need?” Mr Porter asks me for the third time.
“I do.”
“Well, you just ring if there’s anything you’re not sure of.”
Mrs Porter pushes him aside and shoves a wicker basket into my hands. “I’ve made up a hamper for you. Some stuff you can eat today, some that will keep. I wasn’t sure what you can re-heat so everything can be eaten cold. And you won’t want to be cooking in this weather, anyway, will you?”
She’s right on that count. It’s the hottest day of the year so far, and I’m glad I spent so much time thinking about temperature control, or we’d be sweltering. Hopefully, we’ll be able to cool off with a swim in the sea at the end of our first day of driving.
“None of your amazing lasagna, then?”
Her hand cups my cheek, a motherly gesture I’ve never had at home. “If you want lasagna, you’ll have to visit.”
“As soon as we get back.”
Mr Porter pulls me in for a tight hug. “You take good care of each other, son.”
My breath catches in my throat. I didn’t think this goodbye would be so emotional.
“I will, I promise. She’s safe with me.”
“I know.”
I pull the side door closed, and Megan and I hop in and fasten our seatbelts while they line up at the exit. I take one last look up at our bedroom windows, and remember all the nights I worked late out here but wished I was inside with her. And later, all the nights I spent inside when I should have been working on the van. She could have been ready months ago, but Megan was worth the wait, and so was this trip.
She huffs out a quick exhale and pulls on her sunglasses. “Right, let’s get this show on the road before I start crying again.”
I turn on the engine, and pull down the sun visor, where our photo-booth pictures are on proud display. We’re going to take new ones in every booth we come across, a tradition we didn’t even know we were starting. Megan winds her window down as we drive off, waving frantically at her family and friends.
“I love you all! See you in a couple of months!”
Months on the road with my dream girl by my side. I could not be happier right now.
“Oh my god, Ollie,” she squeals, rapidly drumming her hands on her thighs. “We’re really doing this! I’m so proud of you.”
My heart wants to beat right out of my chest. They’re not words I hear very often. Megan probably says them to her students all the time, but it’s me who needs them most.
“Aren’t we supposed to be headed north?” she says when I pull onto the main road and head in the opposite direction.
“We are. We just need to make a quick stop on the way.”
“Sure, we have all the time in the world, right?” she smiles, leaning over to kiss my shoulder.
I hand her my phone and she scrolls through to choose the first playlist of the trip, then settles back into her seat. Loose strands of hair whip around her face in the breeze.
Keeping my eyes on the road will be a challenge when all I want to do is look at her. She hums softly to the song, some slowed down version of a Prince classic, and I can’t help but join in too. There’s a real chance we’re going to be those awful campers who can’t stop singing, so I’ll definitely be looking for remote spots on this trip. Not just because I want to be the only one who hears the noises she makes for me in bed every night.
I catch the moment Megan spots the road signs, her body stiffening as she sits up straight.
“Ollie, I can’t go see your parents in a t-shirt and shorts.”
Reaching out, I cup her thigh and give it a squeeze. “You shouldn’t give a fuck what they think about you. You’re gorgeous, and they’re probably not home, anyway.”
“Then what are we doing?”
“I’m not exactly sure.”
I drive through the village where I always felt like an outsider, to the house on the outskirts that I used to call home. At the front gates, I lower the window and lean out to press the intercom. A few seconds later, Harold’s voice crackles through.
“Mortimer residence.”
“It’s Ollie,” I tell him, then wait an oddly long time for his reply.
“We have no maintenance appointments scheduled under that name.”
Megan’s jaw drops. I suppose it’s an easy mistake to think I’m a tradesman in the van.
“Master Oliver,” I yell.
The gates creak open slowly, and I wait for them to lock in place before driving through. If I was feeling really petulant, I’d floor it and speed up the driveway, leaving tracks in the gravel. Knowing my luck, a piece would bounce and crack the windscreen, and I’ve wasted enough of my life here.
I loop around the top of the circular driveway with the enormous fountain, and pull-up at the bottom of the stairs. Harold hovers in the doorway, clearly unsure of protocol when a family member arrives under such unexpected circumstances. The front door is for special occasions only, and normally I’d park around the side of the building and use the family entrance.
“His Lordship is not in residence today,” Harold calls down to us. “Do you wish to schedule an appointment for his return?”
I shake my head in disbelief and laugh softly, even though this is so far from funny.
“I shouldn’t need an appointment with my own father,” I shout back, starting the engine. Megan reaches for my hand and links her fingers through mine.
“Are you OK?”
I lift her hand to my mouth and press a kiss to the back of it.
“I’m literally living my best life, Megan. Might need a shit-load of therapy one day, but for now, everything I need is right here in this van.”