Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
IAIN
“Is that a blanket?”
“Ten points to Moss.” Iain dropped the folded wool into his rucksack, trying not to get any dirt upon the bed. Singular. Because they’d been tricked once again.
He wasn’t sure if he would thank Vera or not when he saw her after this for being the likely orchestrator of this scheme. Having Maisie in his bed was something he wanted more and more, but not if it wasn’t her choice.
Her unamused stare burned into the back of his head. “Ha. Ha. Where did you get it?”
“Always keep one in my car.” He tugged up the zip to close the backpack, stuffing everything necessary into his so Maisie didn’t need to carry anything.
“You’re a very well-prepared man,” she said.
Could she tell that to the rest of his life? Maybe that way he could sort his shit out.
“Here—” Out of nowhere Maisie thrust a thermos into his periphery. “Hot chocolate.”
Iain took the lidded travel mug and stared at it. He’d wondered what the tinkling of metal-on-metal had been whilst he’d been changing into his outdoor garb in the bathroom – which had been difficult in itself. The tiled space was clearly not designed for a man of his dimensions.
The pleasant smile on Maisie’s lips when he edged his gaze to her gradually faded. “Don’t tell me you don’t drink hot chocolate?”
Withholding his guilty grimace was a struggle. “Not usually.”
Her jaw hung. “That’s it.” Maisie threw up her hands. “This friendship is over. I don’t claim you anymore.”
Iain watched her storm to the sofa chair with her coat draped across it, a smirk forming on his lips. “I didn’t realise you’d claimed me before.”
“Ted!” Maisie barked, her cheeks looking rather coloured. “Let’s go.”
Following to pull on his boots, Iain laughed at how she tried to change the subject. He wouldn’t mind being claimed by Maisie Moss at all. In fact, he wondered how she’d do it. He wouldn’t object to a few nail scratches down his back in the throes of passion – throes of passion that he had no right imagining.
Ted trotted out from his bed that’d taken up almost as much space in the car as Maisie and Iain’s things combined.
“We’re leaving Ted,” he said.
Maisie paused the motion of putting on her coat, her arms extended at awkward angles. “No Ted?”
“Unless you’re volunteering to clean him off in the dark?”
She stuffed her arms in her sleeves and bent to pat Ted’s head. “Sorry, baby.”
Iain rolled his eyes at her new name for his pet. Some days he could swear that his dog preferred her over him, especially when Ted looked up at her with such massive eyes, sitting perfectly. It was bewitchment, definitely. Something that Iain felt under the spell of, too, when Maisie straightened and flipped her curls back into place. The urge to wrap them around his fist was uncalled for and startled him into finding his shoes.
His hamstrings stretched when he bent to tie up his boots and the burn wasn’t exactly pleasant. Ever since meeting Maisie, he seemed to be missing his rugby team’s training sessions left, right, and centre. He should’ve been there tonight, but fate and thirteen meddling pensioners had a different plan.
Maisie was organised in her routine of pulling on her boots, then her gloves, and lastly her fuzzy ear warmers. Iain looked at the leggings, then the single layer of a t-shirt under where she zipped up her coat.
His eye narrowed. “Are you sure you’ll be warm enough?”
She shrugged him off. “I’ll be fine.”
If you say so. Iain grabbed a thicker fleece from his bag of clothes to wear under his coat before layering up.
Leaving Ted locked in the cabin, they met with the star-gazing group at the information centre in the middle of camp. Almost every couple and family with older kids must’ve joined, and even with Maisie’s prompt pushing of him out of the cabin, it appeared as though they were the last to arrive.
The receptionist who’d knocked on their door earlier raised her voice to gather the group then handed over to another woman who quickly ran through their night walk’s itinerary.
Iain sniffed at the thermos Maisie prepared for him and sipped on the hot chocolate as he listened. It still wasn’t his taste buds’ favourite, but Maisie had made it, so he would drink it whether he liked it or not.
“Before we go, can everyone make sure that you have one of these.” The group leader held a thin, see-through rectangle of plastic high in the air. “These are really fun. They’re maps of the constellations, and the best thing is that they glow in the dark, so you can hold them up to the sky and try to overlap the tablet with what you see.”
Iain’s brow jumped. He’d expected to only be sitting and zoning-out whilst he tried not to fall asleep on top of whatever hill they walked to, not an interactive element.
Maisie nominated herself to approach the crowd forming around the box of plastic constellations. He watched her hang back from getting too close, her pursed smiles as she let everyone else through first. When was the last time she’d ever done that for herself, he wondered.
She handed him one of the tablets on her return, whispering, “This is so exciting.”
The sky might be pitch black, but there was light in her eyes.
“I used to sneak out at night on the farm,” Iain said, throwing another nugget of his life out there into the Maisie pool of knowledge. He couldn’t stop wanting to spew out facts about himself to her. Someone might as well know them, and at least with her he knew he’d be heard.
“Really? I can’t imagine you breaking any rules.”
“You have no idea, Daffy.”
The guide led everyone off through the woodland. Most guests used the torches on their phones to light their way, but Iain took the battery torch from his backpack’s pocket, holding it to brighten the trail between them. He was used to this, but Maisie caught her boots on unsuspecting twigs and dips in the ground, grabbing him like it was first instinct, until she gave up snapping her hand away at all and left it there in the crook of his arm.
He didn’t want a girlfriend.
He didn’t need a girlfriend.
But this feeling of rightness that rippled through his puffed-up chest was … too nice. He may have subconsciously walked taller all the way out of the dark woodland to where a grassy field inclined to a small hill.
“Feel free to spread out,” the guide announced.
Between patches of tiny daisies beginning to grow, Maisie navigated the darkness and found a spot in the grass for them both, so Iain dropped his rucksack then himself to a knee to take out the blanket.
“That was creepy as hell,” Maisie muttered.
“Huh?”
“The forest. There could’ve been strange creatures or ghosts.”
All Iain had to do was raise one eyebrow as he lifted his chin to see her. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and found her shrugging.
“What? There could’ve been.”
He guffawed, his knee turning damp in the grass. “Don’t think the Adar Llwch Gwin is going to get you here, Daffy.”
“You should tell me about whatever that is,” Maisie said, “just not when it’s nearly midnight and we still have to sleep.”
Iain unbuckled the folded blanket with leather backing so their bums would stay dry – a very essential item where he came from – and laid it out over the dewy grass. He ran his hands over the scratchy chequered wool, and the stance he’d taken became painfully obvious when he caught Maisie watching him, sending a rush of blood through his body.
Only once had he been on one knee in front of a woman, and look how that turned out.
“You know, this would be a perfect date if we were doing this for real,” Maisie said.
His hands paused, and Iain risked glancing at her before returning to smoothing out the coarse fabric.
After that kiss, the definition between what was real and what was not had no meaning anymore. Iain still remembered the pinch in Maisie’s brow like she’d realised something when he’d pulled back, and his stupid heart hoped it was that the kiss hadn’t been nothing.
He wouldn’t give any thought to her idea because she was right. Doing anything with Maisie would be perfect for a date, but there was something about the nighttime and the dewy scent of forest that reminded him of climbing onto barn roofs as a teenager; the danger and excitement that came with it and the reward of sitting under the stars as they moved across the mountains.
If it were a date, Iain hoped for there to be a few less people there as well, and he’d have planned to bring more appropriate snacks beyond shop bought oat bars.
“Have you heard from Vera yet?” he asked to take his mind to someplace less incriminating, getting off of his knee, finally, to sit down.
“No. I hope she’s feeling guilty, but she’ll probably just be smug and pleased with herself for orchestrating this.”
“We got played at our own game.”
Maisie scoffed. “Yeah.”
“Here—” Iain patted the blanket, offering up his hand to guide her down.
“Thank you.”
Maisie lowered beside him and tested her position until she settled on crossing her legs. Iain tried to not focus on each time her knee nudged his outstretched thigh, remembering the agreements they’d made. The one about how he could only kiss her when it was necessary to their plan, and the other one about how this between them could only be friendship .
Iain knew where he’d like to take that word and stuff it.
Maisie looked up and around at the stars, whispering, “Do you hear that?”
For a moment, he stayed still, straining his ears to hear what she did. But there was nothing. “I don’t hear anything.” Other than quiet mutters now that every couple and family had settled in their own patches of grass, nothing.
“Exactly,” Maisie said lowly like she didn’t want to disturb the nothingness. “There’s silence. There’re birds and something creeping around in the woods, but there’s silence.” Her round eyes and parted lips were in an awe of things that Iain had long forgotten to appreciate. He supposed that he was used to everything that was around them. And like any feeling you grew used to, he was numb to appreciating it.
He kept his voice to a whisper: “Why do you live in London if you like being out here so much?”
The corner of Maisie’s eye dipped to him, the hint of a smile on her lips. “I never said that I like it here.”
“Your face says it.” His gaze swept lower. “Your body says it.”
The way she relaxed, how she was as free as the ocean when they walked out in the open air … That kind of reaction to these surroundings was something she’d needed whether Maisie knew it or not, because it was the same reaction that’d happened to him when he’d left the farm and finally been able to breathe.
Maisie looked at him fully, those lips battling a smile. “You’ve been looking at my body?”
Ah, bloody hell. What was it about the darkness that turned Iain into a teenager again? Trying to get the attention of a woman who was out of his league.
He couldn’t lie. “You’re somewhat hard to ignore.”
Maisie’s mouth lost the fight with a smile. “I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.”
Iain stayed exactly where he was. Didn’t move a muscle from looking at the joy in her sparkling eyes. He didn’t need to look up to see the stars when there was one right in front of him.
She shifted under his silent gaze. “What? No witty retort?”
He shook his head. “Don’t need one. It was the truth.”
Maisie’s eyes flittered, bouncing across his face as she inhaled, her tongue swiping between her lips. Iain knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted to lean over and kiss those lips. One hand lowered out of her lap to the space on the blanket between them as she looked away from his transfixion. He could take it. He could entwine their fingers together. But for what reason other than that he wanted to? There was no member of the hiking group here to put on a show for. No reason that wouldn’t blur the lines between them.
Before he could cross them, their guide gathered their attention, and Iain’s focus was diverted for twenty minutes. She explained the constellations, recanting stories like they were in the Middle Ages wrapped around a campfire, though the sprinklings of Welsh folklore were what he soaked up most.
They both laid back on the scratchy blanket and held their constellation maps above them. Iain looked up through his clear sheet of resin at the glowing dots, but it was only a few seconds before his eyes wandered to the woman beside him, how her mouth pushed to one side as she tried to figure out aligning the stars.
Was it possible to make one of these to map the freckles on her face? or her arms or her chest? It might take him a year, but he’d certainly try, and it’d be the most beautiful thing he might ever create with his bare hands.
“I can’t find the Plough,” Maisie whispered.
One leg propped up, Iain shuffled his upper body closer until their arms brushed. Head cocked between hers and her shoulder, he reached into the air and gently curled his fingers around her wrist, guiding her glowing, dotted tablet more towards him.
Her body stilled.
Eight months alone, he remembered as her breath stuttered and ever so gently graced his cheek.
“There,” he said, his fingers staying curled around her wrist for another second, feeling the softness of her skin under his rugged hand and imagining how soft every other inch of her must be.
“Oh … thank you.” Maisie cleared her throat, and Iain, regretfully, let his hand fall away.
He was falling. He didn’t know if it was his head or his heart that went first, but both had landed at Maisie’s feet.
The guide finished up her talk and Maisie asked, “How has work been recently? I don’t think I’ve asked you.” Iain didn’t understand why she was quite so concerned with his job, but he appreciated it nonetheless.
He didn’t have much of a good answer to give. “Slow. Two weeks until I’ll be fired.”
Maisie lowered her arms, bringing the tablet to her belly. Wool fibres made a scratchy sound as her head turned. “You don’t know that for certain.”
“It’ll happen.”
“Have you thought of any ideas of what to do next if it does?”
“Not really,” is what Iain said, when he meant to say was ‘none at all’.
He looked on the popular job listing websites multiple times a day, but when every job available out there wanted three qualifications and a lifetime of experience just to pay pittance, his options were limited. Nothing local interested him and he couldn’t afford to move to somewhere new, so he was still stuck, feeling like water slowly filled up the well he stood at the bottom of. When it inevitably reached his head, he didn’t know what he would do.
He didn’t have options.
He didn’t have a plan.
He didn’t have any ideas for how to build a ladder for himself, and there was no one there to throw him a rope, either. Except …
“Though there was something …”
“Ooo,” Maisie whispered excitedly, “a something .” She shifted so she leaned up on her elbow, looking down at him. His side-eye said to not get too carried away with her enthusiasm.
Iain thought back on the notification he’d received at work a couple of weeks ago that he’d all but forgotten about. Looking up to the stars was the only way that he could confidently say into the night, “Ronnie gave my name to a couple wanting a local guide for when they come to do landscape photography.”
“Really? Have they messaged you?”
“Yes.”
“And?” Maisie was still too optimistic.
“… I didn’t respond.”
The back of a hand flew to swat against his body. “What? Why? Iain, the opportunity is right there. You should do it.” Her outburst earned a few looks from the others trying to enjoy their night.
Iain barely passed Maisie a glance before he rolled his head away. To not look at her at all settled less of a guilty feeling in his stomach than if he did. “I don’t know …”
“Just message them,” Maisie lowered her voice that time. “You don’t have to agree to help them, just see what they want or how much they’ll pay. Come on, I’ll help you.”
“Maisie, I— What are you doing?”
“Finding your phone.” Her hands poked and fiddled with the flaps and zips of his coat.
“It’s not in there .”
“Well where is it? Hand it over. I’ll help.”
Iain shifted his hips and dug his phone out of the front pocket of his outdoor trousers. Even in darkness, Maisie’s cheeks warmed in colour as she sat upright.
Fuck it. He couldn’t help himself. “Did you think that bulge was something else, Daffy?”
Her voice did a thing he could only describe as faffing. “No. Of course I knew it was your phone. I’m just not in the habit of rummaging around in a man’s pockets.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Iain said as he typed his passcode and handed his phone over with the post that Ronnie had tagged him in on the screen. It was straightforward to find, since even though it’d been two weeks ago, it was still the most recent notification he had.
He laid back and raised his constellation map to the stars again whilst Maisie sat up and did her thing, the tips of her nails clicking on the glass as she typed.
“I think you’d be good at it.” Her words he’d never heard before he met her looped in his mind every single day. It only dawned on him then how much she always encouraged him, and as he lay there, his heart swelled inside, reminding him that it was still beating.
A minute later Maisie set her hand on his bicep. “Done.” Iain sat up again. “You can delete it, or you can send it. But you’ll never know what might happen if you don’t try.”
He read the unsent message. It was simple, to the point, and sounded far friendlier than he did in real life, but she’d made it clear that he wasn’t an officially qualified tour guide, had a dog that would be coming with him on all trips, and would be interested in helping the couple out for the week if they wanted him.
He’d be jobless by then, so he would have the time, and at least he wouldn’t be bored out of his brains sitting at home all day. Plus, whatever money they paid him would give him another week to try and sort his shit out.
So he did it.
Iain pushed his thumb down on the blue arrow, watching the text bubble appear in the new message chain as Maisie made an excited little sound.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” he uttered as he pocketed the phone.
Maisie rolled her eyes away, and yet she smiled. At least, right before a breeze picked up and she shivered. Smugly, Iain wanted to say ‘I told you so’, but she caught on to the shitty smirk of his.
“I’m not cold,” Maisie argued as she wrapped her arms around her middle, bringing her legs up towards her chest.
Luckily, Iain had come prepared.
“Whatever you say, Daff,” he replied, already tugging the sleeves on his outer coat.
“I don’t need your—Did you wear two coats?”
Iain chuckled to himself at her mid-sentence shift. “I knew you’d get cold.” Though he was surprised that she’d lasted this long without needing an extra layer.
“It won’t— fit ... ” Maisie’s voice trailed off when the padded fabric draped off her shoulders exactly where it was supposed to be. Her eyes glazed over as though she wanted to cry but was … happy about it? Iain didn’t understand the big deal, but he let her have her moment.
Her arms crossed over her chest, fingers curling in the jacket and drawing it tighter around herself. She sniffed. “You’re not allowed to get sick because of chivalry.”
His mouth turned into an upside-down smile as his head shook away her worry. “Immunity of a brick, remember?”
Her little smile awoke a soft flutter in Iain’s chest that he hadn’t felt in years. Something that made him feel alive yet anxious at the same time.
He didn’t want a girlfriend.
He didn’t need a girlfriend.
But every second when he was with her, he felt like he could, maybe, perhaps be enough this time.