Chapter Nine
Nine
Navigating rural forest lanes in the dark, with nothing but a phone torch each, is not something I’d recommend.
There are thousands of unidentified sounds.
Scuffling. Twig-snapping. The random screams of what can only be described as some kind of demented demon (Sam promises me it’s just fox cubs).
I never knew the forest was so loud. It’s eerie, unsettling.
I keep jumping when branches move above me.
It’s bad enough we were just chased by a wild boar then had to climb over a slippery fallen tree but now we have a mile to walk to the lodge.
Priya is up front with Sam, holding onto his coat sleeves.
Freddie strides ahead, enough to lead the way and confront any issues before the rest of us, but not so far that we are left behind.
This means, whether by accident or not, Sara has found herself stepping along with me.
I seize the opportunity to work her out.
“So, how’s wedding planning going?” I ask.
She does this strange, breathy thing that isn’t quite a sigh. “Fine.”
“Did you sort the flowers?”
“Actually no. I have quite a lot to do still.” She blows on her hands, rubbing them together. She’s wearing a flimsy, teddy bear coat, not designed for the countryside at all. But I’m not dressed much better either. These wedgie jeans are not made for walking.
I wait for her to carry on, but she stalls. So, I try again to stoke the conversation, “But you have a few months, don’t you? That’s not so bad.”
“Five months.”
I know her wedding is mid-May. I have an invite with a plus one for shits and giggles.
I don’t think she thought about it when she sent them but who the hell am I supposed to bring?
I was kind of hoping I’d have been picked as maid of honour or at least a bridesmaid so I could act busy, pretending to be running after the bride all day.
But, so far, she has chosen not to have bridesmaids.
I suspect, sensitive soul at heart, she doesn’t want to be the one causing drama in her family.
She has too many cousins and high-maintenance little sisters who will all be expecting a slot.
If she has one, she has to invite them all and I know this is true because I’ve seen the photos from her cousin’s wedding last summer – there must’ve been twenty bridesmaids.
At least 80 per cent of them had the same silky, blonde hair as Sara.
“How’s Mike feeling about it all?”
“Fine, I guess. Why?”
“I don’t know. I’m just surprised you didn’t invite him.”
“Do we have to do everything together now?” She pauses as if she realises her tone is too sharp. “Sometimes, it feels like you lot prefer him to me. Is it so bad to just want a few days to myself?”
“Ok. You have to know you’re being weird though, right?”
“I’m not being weird. I’m being… I don’t know.”
I stop walking, hoping she’ll stop too but instead, she glances at me before speeding up, seizing her opportunity to escape the discussion. I jog to catch her.
“Sara!” I hiss. “What the hell?”
“Just leave it, Hattie. Please.”
“Are you guys ok?”
She shrugs but I can see the apprehension in her eyes. “We’re fine.”
“Then, what’s going on? I feel like you’re being…”
“I’m fine,” she insists, waving her hands at me, playing with a smile I can just about make out in the dark. It looks strained. “This is fine. Me and you are fine.”
“It doesn’t feel like…”
She sighs, her breathing faster now she’s upped the pace. “You need to stop worrying.”
“Right,” I say. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that.
Stop worrying, Hattie. Why do you care what other people think so much? Stop saying I look grumpy. Stop trying to read me. Stop trying to make this into something.
Adam hated that about me. But in my defence, he’d switch moods so fast, it would leave me wondering where I stood with him. How was I meant to react, when he’d be happy and smiling one moment, then moody and frowny the next?
And so, forgive me if I’m a little bit worried about Sara’s change in mood.
She’s always been so strong-willed and brutally honest, but I lived with her long enough to know she feels deeply yet privately, her outward sharpness is her big sister protective layering It’s why, to most people, she comes across as a sharp, confident businesswoman.
Afraid of nobody. So in control of herself.
Now I have no idea what this is. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to not care.
“Does Mike speak to Adam still?” I find myself asking. I’ve wondered a few times. They were good friends, after all.
“They’ve been for drinks a few times. I didn’t go.”
“Were you invited?”
She’s quiet for a moment. “I’m nodding, by the way.”
I snort. “I’m rolling my eyes.”
“I didn’t go. I don’t want to be around someone who’d treat my friend like he treated you. And I didn’t want to hear about it from Mike either.”
“Ok, well, I wouldn’t care if you did.”
“Liar,” she accuses gently.
I shake my head. “I’m shaking my head, by the way.”
For the first time in weeks, I hear her laugh. I feel it in my chest like some kind of triumph. My friend is back. I got her back. But then we’ve caught the rest of the group and her guard flies up again, back to barely speaking.
We walk quietly for most of the way after that. It’s hilly and a few of us are feeling out of breath, not to mention freezing. An owl hoots from barely metres above us; shivers and tingles run up and down my spine. The fact that we can’t see it makes it worse.
As if he can sense my fear, Freddie drops back to stand beside me as Sara takes Sam’s other arm. He hauls them up the incline, fallen twigs and mulchy leaves crunching under their shoes.
I’m not sure why being in Freddie’s presence makes me so nervous but I have a hunch.
It’s the forbidden-fruit thing: I’m not allowed to fancy him, and he’s also three years older than me.
There’s something about the age gap that meant Freddie never gave me so much as a glance when I was taking whole eyefuls.
And then there’s the Adam thing. I’m twenty-nine in a few days and I’ve only ever been with one man. We met at university on a night out. We started flirty texting which developed into more and more and steadily, we became an item.
The same question rattles around my head that has done since Adam and I split: What if I’m no good between the sheets?
I haven’t vocalised this to anyone because it feels somewhat embarrassing and desperate to even think. Besides, what would they even say to that?
Adam rarely had complaints about our… situation, but he did have a few and they lingered, crushed my confidence and eventually, made me want to push him away rather than pull him towards me.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think that was one of the reasons he left me.
He was tired of being… Not rejected per se, but not pursued either.
I have no strategy for escaping that lingering worry.
I think back to that time I challenged Freddie over a bottle of wine, and it feels almost surreal that I could’ve been so confident with so little experience. And now, experience in hand, I have nothing. Pathetic.
I trip on something, thankfully finding my feet before I face plant. Freddie’s big hand holds my elbow, propping me up.
“You ok?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I reply, breathless. “Thanks.”
He releases me and we walk on. The lane has started to crumble away; it’s wide enough to get a car down but is more like a path than a road.
I hope this means we’re getting close. I need lights.
And electricity. Just a hint we are in the twenty-first century would do.
Besides, my phone battery is on 15 per cent, and I do not want to try and find my way in the pitch black without the torch.
We all jump out of our skin when a security light flashes on, blindingly bright. It’s up a short bank, surrounded by trees and attached to a big, oak-timbered lodge. It’s creepier than the pictures advertised, but I suppose there’s no surprise there. We are arriving in the dark, after all.
Sam fishes the paperwork out of his pocket, so he can enter the key code, whilst we wait patiently.
Once inside, we’re all pleasantly surprised.
The lodge is clean and modern. The downstairs has a big, open-plan living space, with a kitchen along one wall, and a massive island with tall stalls tucked underneath it.
We find a games room in the basement and four bedrooms, two downstairs attached to the living space and two upstairs, one a twin which is ideal considering our new, higher numbers.
We’d crammed as much of the food from the car into our bags as we could but didn’t bother with our suitcases just yet. Sam tries to call the owners to sort the tree and get the car up to the lodge for ease but can’t get through.
Priya is already out on the balcony, having opened the sliding doors, which take up nearly one whole wall. “The hot tub is hot guys!” she calls back in. “I’m going to get straight in.”
“Read the pamphlet first,” Sara says. “I think you’re meant to shower.”
But Priya is already climbing the steps and dipping her toes in.
“I’ll make a quick pasta for everyone or something,” I say as Sara stalks off to check out the bedrooms upstairs, no doubt aiming to score the best one.
I fly around the kitchen trying to find a big enough saucepan and cutting board and get to work dicing onions.
Freddie and Sam decide to walk down to the car again to grab as many suitcases as they can and haul them back up.
I lock the front door as they leave. Arriving here in the dark has given me the jitters.
Once everyone is back and fed, we all go about getting showered, cleaned and settled, not feeling much like socialising after the long drive here.
I decide to grab my bikini from the twin room where me and Priya have set up camp, our suitcases open and contents spread everywhere.
Sara would hate the mess so maybe it is best she has her own space.
I’m ghostly pale at this time of year and don’t try to hide it.
Mum swears I was born fully ginger but as I grew up, it turned blonde and that’s why I have such a red tint.
I don’t buy it. Although my freckly skin and almost translucent thighs does throw some truth behind the theory.
But, even knowing all this, I still jump at my reflection in the mirror behind the wardrobe door.
The pink bikini only makes it worse. I think about Freddie being downstairs. Why does he make me so nervous?
What kind of chemicals does he emit that I’m so reactive to?
I shake out my limbs. Get a grip, Hattie.
I throw on one of my long jumpers for warmth and wrap a towel around my middle.
Luckily, Freddie is nowhere to be seen as I trot down the stairs and out onto the balcony.
Priya holds up her arms. “WHEY! Finally, a friend comeths to join moi!”
I laugh. “Are you drinking?”
“Yeah. Do you want some?” she passes me a bottle of fizz and a plastic glass. “I read the instructions, see. No glass in the hot tub.”
I take them from her, pouring myself one and sitting back. The water is hot. The bubbles tingling around my neck. Yep. A hot-tub getaway was exactly what I needed. This is lush. I allow myself to close my eyes for one moment before a thought occurs to me.
“Are you allowed to drink when you’re breastfeeding?” I ask, then pause, worried I’ve said something stupid. “Oh shit. Sorry. I hope that’s not rude.”
Priya waves me off. “Not rude. I don’t care. And no, none of the Boobleys will make it to Ollie.”
I snort up prosecco bubbles. “Sorry, what? Boobleys?”
“Yeah, boozy milk. Like Baileys, but Boobleys.”
I can’t help cracking up right in front of her. “I don’t know if that’s really gross or sort of sweet. What happens to the Boobleys once you’ve pumped?”
Priya eyes me. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, Hattie.”
I make a face. “Ok, you’re right, don’t tell me.”
“Hey, do me a favour?”
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to rest my eyes for a bit because they’re sore.
Like sore, sore. It feels like I’ve been on that SAS show and they’ve kept me awake with loud music, uncomfortable chairs and bright lights for a few days.
I need to just close them. But don’t let me drown.
That’s what it’s come to. I’m asking a dear old friend to protect me from falling asleep in a hot tub. ”
“I’d never let you drown. I hope you know that,” I say, meaning to be silly with it but instead sounding deeply sincere.
Priya doesn’t open her eyes. “Hattie, it’s why you’re the chosen one. That, and you’re the only person who joined me.”
“Why don’t you go to bed? Get an early night?”
“I am not leaving this hot tub.”
“You read the rules, Priya. Thirty minutes max and you need to get out.”
“I’m using plastic champagne glasses. Isn’t that enough rule-following for you?”
I sniff a laugh but let her settle. Her ‘resting eyes’ are soon accompanied by gentle snoring. I keep my eyes firmly on her face to make sure she doesn’t drop below the water. I’ve been trusted. I will not fail her.
Sam walks out onto the balcony, hugging his arms to his chest. “Brr. It’s cold out here.”
“You can’t tell once you’re in,” I say. “Keep your voice down, though.”
Sam quirks his head at Priya and raises his eyebrows. “She ok?”
“No. None of us are.”
He nods. “Well, isn’t that the truth. More prosecco?”
I nod and he darts back into the house to grab another bottle. I spot Freddie set up with his laptop, his back to us. They share another brotherly exchange and that won’t be an easy sight to adjust to. It’s so unlike them. I wonder when it was that they started getting along.