Chapter 12
To: Eve
From: Aaron
Subject: Mountains, emails, and questionable haircuts
Hi Eve,
First things first, it’s completely fine if you take time to reply.
Honestly. I know work can swallow you whole and sometimes you just need to stare at a wall in silence for three days.
That said, I’ll admit I may have checked my inbox with a bit more optimism than usual this past week.
Not quite on tenterhooks, but somewhere in the general vicinity.
Please don’t take that as pressure. Write when you want.
Or don’t. I’ll just be here, loitering near the send and receive button like someone with far too much free time and a deeply questionable relationship with his inbox.
Now. Since you mentioned watching Himalayan videos, I thought I’d tell you a little more.
Starting with Kathmandu, which is pure chaos in architectural form.
Think motorbikes weaving between cows, people shouting from three different directions at once, and about seventeen temples all competing for your attention.
It’s fascinating, and alive, and slightly overwhelming, like walking through a city that’s halfway through being rewritten in real time.
I don’t say that to put you off, by the way.
Just to prepare you. It’s a lot, but it’s worth it.
Because once you get into the mountains, properly into them, everything changes.
The noise falls away. There’s a stillness that feels too big for words.
It’s cold, obviously, and the air’s thin enough to make you question your life choices, but there’s something about standing that high up that rearranges your thoughts.
Like someone’s tidied your brain while you weren’t looking. I’d love for you to see it one day.
Speaking of peaceful. I’m heading to St Claire in two weeks to look after Jon and Abby’s B&B while they take Layla to Disneyland.
Just for the week. There’s only one guest booked in, self-sufficient and unlikely to cause trouble.
Otherwise, it’ll just be me rattling around, pretending to be useful and possibly talking to houseplants.
And I was wondering. Would you want to come hang out?
No pressure, obviously. I know it’s a trek, and you’ve got work, but technically, you can do that from there just as well.
You’d have your space. I’ll be on official guest-wrangling duty.
You can be the mysterious behind-the-scenes figure who occasionally appears in the kitchen doorway looking judgmental and elegant.
I just thought it’d be nice to see you. In person.
Maybe even talk without the send button getting in the way.
I promise to bring photos from my Himalaya trips, though, be warned, my haircut was criminal and I was essentially a lanky, overconfident twenty-two-year-old with more ambition than moisturiser. But there’s the occasional nice view in the background if you can get past my stupid grin.
Let me know either way. And really, take your time. Just thought I’d ask.
Aaron
To: Aaron
From: Eve
Date: 03 March
Subject: Re: Mountains, emails, and questionable haircuts
Hi Aaron,
Just a quick one.
Going back to St Claire sounds like an amazing idea. So good, in fact, that I may have mentally started packing a suitcase before I finished reading your email. Though only in a light, perfectly reasonable way. I haven’t actually taken anything out of the wardrobe. Yet.
But only if you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to be in your way or disrupt your very serious guest-wrangling responsibilities.
I’m happy to stay quietly out of the way, or help with whatever needs doing, including but not limited to excessive tea-making and criticising your organisational system. Gently, of course.
I’ll write properly soon. I just wanted you to know I’m up for it.
Eve
To: Aaron
From: Eve
Date: 05 March
Subject: Still up for it (unless you’re not)
Hi again,
I realised my last email was a bit abrupt. Sorry about that. I hit send and immediately remembered that most normal people use more than four sentences when accepting an invitation. So here’s the longer version, in case you thought I was secretly being held hostage by enthusiasm.
That said, I do mean it. If you’ve changed your mind or the week’s become more complicated, it’s absolutely fine. No awkwardness at all. Just say the word and I’ll stay put and grumble about the Norfolk wind like usual.
I may have done some further reading. Your Kathmandu description intrigued me, so I went down a bit of a rabbit hole and ended up watching a video diary by a woman from Austria who filmed her whole trip.
All of it. Every temple, every chai break, every questionable toilet situation.
She was very thorough. And a little intense.
But I can see what you meant about the chaos.
There’s a sort of layered, humming energy to it.
Like a city balancing seventeen things at once without ever dropping any of them.
That said, I also discovered you can apparently head straight for the hills fairly quickly. So maybe Kathmandu wouldn’t have to be endured for too long.
Anyway. I should probably stop fantasising about an entirely hypothetical Himalayan trip and focus on the one that’s actually real. St Claire feels like a good place to start. Smaller mountains. Fewer yaks.
Let me know if the invitation still stands.
Eve
To: Eve
From: Aaron
Date: 05 March
Subject: Still very much stands
Hi Eve,
Apologies for the delayed reply. We’ve had a bit of a situation with a client and it’s been all hands on deck.
One of our clients was travelling through Myanmar and got into a serious car accident outside Mandalay.
The local hospital stabilised him, but it was clear pretty quickly that he needed more specialist care.
Cue several hours of wrangling logistics, medical staff, emergency clearances, and one very stubborn international insurance rep.
In the end, we managed to get him airlifted out to Singapore for surgery and recovery.
He’s doing well now, but it’s been one of those weeks where time seems to collapse into coffee and chaos.
So, yes. That’s why this reply is coming a little later than planned.
And also yes. The offer absolutely still stands. I meant it. If you’re coming by train, let me know your arrival time and where you’ll be getting in. I’ll come and collect you. No chance of you dragging a suitcase through the mud if I can help it.
You can have as much tea as you like. Possibly even a sandwich or two, depending on how well I’ve stocked the fridge by then.
I’ll be heading up to St Claire on Thursday 14 March.
Jon wants to walk me through things before they head off to Paris on Friday.
I suspect this means him showing me an unnecessarily complicated heating system and Abby talking me through the contents of her freezer.
Really glad you’re coming.
More soon,
Aaron
To: Aaron
From: Eve
Date: 06 March
Subject: Travel plans and overpacking admissions
Hi Aaron,
Thank you for your message, and I’m glad to hear your client is recovering. That sounded incredibly stressful, though also very much like something you’re annoyingly good at handling.
I wanted to let you know that I’ve booked my train ticket. I’ll be arriving on Friday. The train gets into Skipton at ten past one. Please don’t worry about collecting me from there. I can get the bus to St Claire easily enough.
If you wouldn’t mind picking me up from St Claire itself, that would be amazing.
I remember the B&B is a little out of the way, and I should probably warn you that I’m a notorious overpacker.
Entirely capable of convincing myself that I might need three pairs of boots and an emergency novel collection.
But if it’s inconvenient, I can always get a local taxi instead. No problem at all.
Really looking forward to the change of scenery. And you.
Eve
To: Eve
From: Aaron
Date: 07 March
Subject: Change of plans (and new company)
Hi Eve,
Absolutely not. I’m picking you up from Skipton. No arguments. I’ll be there at ten past one. It’s no trouble at all, and I’d rather you didn’t have to juggle luggage and local buses.
Also, some new developments. Mrs Higgins is going on a short Nordic cruise next week and needed someone to look after Bernard.
Nancy was meant to do it, but she’ll be in Paris, so Mrs Higgins asked if I could take him instead.
Apparently, she remembered how much Bernard ‘took a shine’ to me, which I think translates to “stole my lunch and refused to move off my foot.”
So it looks like you’ll be seeing him again. Try to act surprised.
Looking forward to seeing you, Eve. Maybe more than I should. I’ve missed our conversations. And your smile.
Aaron