Twist Of Fate

Twenty Eight

CHLOE

I wake first the following morning. Condensation has gathered on the ceiling of the tent as it always does, but this time it has formed one large droplet that falls and lands right in the middle of my forehead, jolting me awake with a start. I sit bolt upright, brushing frantically at my face until I realise what it is, and let out a large shaky breath. I rub my eyes and glance over at Harry who hasn't even stirred beside me, and is facing away from me, his hands tucked under his neck, and something blue clutched between his fingers. I peer at it, squinting in the dim light, until I realise it is the blanket underneath which I had hidden on the back seat of Harry's car, an entire lifetime ago. Harry must have been cold in the night; I felt the chill myself, and huddled deeper inside my cocoon in the small hours to keep warm. I might have to sleep in my hoodie tonight.

I lie back down on the air mattress, closing my eyes and trying to doze off again, but the shock of the water on my face has brought me too sharply and suddenly into consciousness, and it is now looking like I've fulfilled my sleep quota for the night. I pull on my jeans as quietly as I can, and throw my hoodie on over my camisole before venturing out of the tent into the early morning sunshine. It has the makings of yet another hot day, although here in the shade of the tall trees, with the sun not very high in the sky, the air is fresh. I could kill for a nice hot cup of tea right now, or a strong coffee to curl my fingers around while I watch the forest waking up around me. I make a mental note to ensure I enjoy and appreciate the next hot drink I have, to make up for all those I am missing. 

I enjoy almost a full hour of peace and quiet, with only my own thoughts for company, before I hear Harry stirring in the tent. A couple of moments later he emerges from the flap, his face screwed up at the bright sunlight. "How long you been up?" he grunts.

"About an hour. I've just been enjoying the stillness and silence. Missing my morning coffee, though."

He grunts again, yawns, and disappears back inside the tent. I can hear the sounds of him getting dressed, and try not to think of him butt naked in there, and then he reappears fully clothed and looking a little more awake. "Nowhere near here to wash, is there?" he mutters.

"No, but help yourself to the packet of wipes in the tent," I offer.

"Yeah, I already did."

Oh. Course he did. I raise my eyebrows huffily but say nothing, and once he is out of the way I retreat into the tent to get myself dressed and pack up my things. It doesn't take us long to pack up all the equipment and eat an extremely unappetising breakfast of dry cereal bars and water (I think longingly of yesterday's full cooked breakfast, but push the thought away just as quickly when my stomach growls, from misery just as much as hunger). 

By nine o'clock we are fighting our way back through the undergrowth in the direction of the road, and emerge through a thicket of bushes a little further along than where we originally came through. We turn right along the road and saunter along in the morning sunshine, heading south to where our little country lane will meet another dirt-track heading east, that will take us through a couple of sleepy villages in the direction of Winchester. Keeping away from the major trunk roads like this enables us to avoid passing police cars, or indeed any cars that might find it unusual to see two people loaded up with camping equipment walking along a busy carriageway. The scenic route might take longer, but in my opinion it is by far the safer option for us at the moment.

My reckoning turns out to be right, and we come out on the edge of a picturesque hamlet and pass only a handful of cars, tractors and farm vehicles on our way through to the next one. We strike it lucky and come at last to a bus stop, where to our delight (or rather, my delight and Harry's feigned indifference) there is a local bus due in ten minutes that will take us right to Winchester. When it arrives there are three people on it, none of whom take the slightest interest in either of us. It is nice to rest our weary feet for half an hour as it lumbers along, covering the distance it woud have taken us at least six hours to walk - probably eight in this heat. Sticking to my plan, once we arrive in Winchester I find another bus that will take us on to Guildford, although this one is a coach and is more designed for long journeys. The downside to these is that they more than likely have CCTV which we want to avoid at all costs, but the temptation to cover a decent amount of ground today, rather than crawling across the country at snail's pace (and hurting our feet into the bargain), is too great. I insist that Harry wears a cap and sunglasses the whole way to Guildford, to minimise the risk of being identified on camera, and I refuse to sit beside him on the coach, choosing instead to sit several rows away. This is pointless really, as if the police manage to track us this far they will surely know by now that we are travelling together, but it is more to avoid any members of the public, if and when questioned, reporting our whereabouts as a duo. The less the police have to go on, the better.