The Mini-Break

by Maddie Please

  I went back into the house and stood peeling off my muddy socks.

  ‘God, shut the bloody door!’ Jassy shouted.

  I did so with feeling and went to get a towel to dry my hair.

  ‘Who was that?’ she said. ‘And why are you so wet? You’ve got black splodges all over your face.’

  ‘I don’t know and because it’s pissing down,’ I replied, glancing in a mirror and realising I looked like a sad clown. I scrubbed at the black streaks with a tissue. ‘He was passing because someone had noticed there were lights on and he was checking we weren’t squatters.’

  ‘Who in their right mind would squat here?’ Jassy grumbled.

  ‘He’s offered to do the spare tyre.’

  Jassy brightened up. ‘Oh my godfathers! When?’

  ‘Don’t know, he says he’s going to pop back.’

  ‘Pop? Pop back? Oh FFS! It took ages for him to notice we were here in the first place so I won’t hold my breath!’ Jassy said. ‘Why didn’t you grab him, Lulu? Make him do it now?’

  ‘Because it’s getting dark and it’s bloody raining!’ I said, furious with myself for not doing exactly that.

  ‘Jeez,’ Jassy said, sending me a dirty look, ‘we could have been out of here in the morning. We could have made it to Kirsten’s book launch. Now I expect we’ll be stuck here for another fortnight. We’re going to die here, starve to death. Sally will eventually realise I still haven’t delivered Evil Has a Price and then she’ll come looking for me with a bread knife. By then it will be too late and all because you didn’t ask some filthy old farmer to change a tyre.’

  ‘Actually he wasn’t filthy or old. He was rather attractive,’ I said, but Jassy wasn’t listening, she was too busy refilling her wine glass.

  Chapter Two

  We waited with scarcely concealed impatience for another two days. Okay, the first day we concealed our impatience; the second day we weren’t concealing it at all. Jassy and I were at each other’s throats; snapping and snarling like a couple of barely house-trained puppies.

  ‘I mean what did he mean by pop back?’ Jassy moaned for the billionth time.

  ‘I have no idea, Jassy. Stop asking me. I would mean I’d be back in five minutes but this is the country, isn’t it? He might mean next week or next year – who knows?’ I said unhelpfully. ‘He might never come back.’

  Jassy threw back her blanket and stomped unevenly to the window to look out at the rain. It was still raining.

  ‘Come back, you sod,’ she shouted and then turned back to me. ‘Are you sure you don’t know how to change a tyre?’

  ‘No, I don’t know how to change a tyre,’ I snapped back. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’

  Jassy slumped back down onto the sofa, her mouth drooping with misery. ‘Nor would I. Surely there’s an instruction book? We’re never going to see London again. We’re going to die in this bloody place, just die.’

  She sounded so mournful I went to give her a hug.

  ‘No we’re not,’ I said. ‘Don’t be silly. People don’t die just because it’s raining and they have a puncture. There’s plenty of food in the freezer and we have four bottles of wine left. And the green stuff if we get desperate.’

  She shrugged me off.

  ‘Stop being so bloody cheerful,’ Jassy said, huddling down into the cushions.

  ‘Well you’re being miserable enough for both of us.’

  ‘Oh, just shut up!’

  ‘You shut up, Jassy! We could have gone to Vanessa’s flat-warming party. This was your idea remember – your big drama about Ralphie and that woman, the draft that needed finishing. I could have done my editing anywhere—’

  ‘Don’t give me that! You wanted some time away from Benedict in the hope that he would stop taking you for granted!’

  ‘—I was expecting to have a lovely time with roaring fires and a restful few days before we went back to London.’

  ‘Well so was I! You agreed! I didn’t force you to drive here!’ Jassy shouted.

  I could feel my temperature rising.

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t expect to be still stuck here, listening to you moaning twenty-four seven!’ I yelled back.

  ‘I’m an invalid!’

  ‘You’re not a bloody invalid.’

  ‘I am!’

  ‘You’ve got a bandage on one knee. This apparently means you can’t cook a meal, wash up, tidy your stuff away, or do anything except sit on the sofa drinking wine and complaining.’

  ‘You’d be the same in my place. And the one time we have a chance of someone getting us out of this place, you let him run off with the vague promise he might “pop back”. Why didn’t you offer to pay him? He’d have popped back a damn sight quicker if you’d waved a tenner at him.’

  This thought had crossed my mind on several occasions but I didn’t need my sister reminding me.

  I made a mature and considered response.

  ‘Oh shut up!’

  ‘You shut up!’

  Jassy gave a furious scream and bit the edge of her blanket.

  ‘Hello? Anyone at home?’

  Jassy yelped and we swung round to see the dark silhouette of a man standing in the doorway leading out to the hall.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but you didn’t seem to hear me when I knocked.’

  It was him.

  The man with the bright blue eyes and the tractor.

  There is a God after all. I was beginning to wonder.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you,’ I said, trying to sound calm and measured and not as though I had been in the middle of a heated screaming match with my sister.

  He pulled off gloves, which looked as though they had been constructed from old wet suits and held out a hand towards me. I shook it. His fingers were cold but his palm was warm and I felt an odd shiver of something. He reached over to say hello to Jassy who was busy being tiny and fragile and thoroughly irritating under her blanket.

  ‘Joe Field. I’m guessing you haven’t managed to fix the puncture?’ he said.

  Trust me, if I had I wouldn’t be here talking to you, I thought, but that would have been rude and Joe Field might have been offended and left us to it. I wasn’t going to risk losing him again. I moved round a bit so I actually blocked his exit route.

  ‘I’m Louisa Darling, and this is my sister Jassy Sutton.’

  I waited a beat to see if he realised who we were. He didn’t so much as flicker. Oh well. Perhaps he didn’t look at the gossip columns or read much chick lit or psychological drama?

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m afraid we haven’t managed to fix it. Jassy has a very fragile knee and of course I have to look after her full time.’

  I made it sound as though she couldn’t be left for even a second, which was far from the case. In fact I’d gone to bed leaving her asleep on the sofa twice and yesterday I’d refused to bring her lunch on a tray and made her come to the table. I don’t think Jassy had been out of her pyjamas for three days and she was beginning to fall into the helpless, dependent patient state of mind.

  ‘I see,’ he said, rubbing the warmth back into his fingers.

  ‘So can you fix it?’ Jassy said.

  ‘I expect so, if you have a spare tyre. Or some tyre sealant.’

  Tyre sealant? What the hell was that? Something like massive Sellotape?

  ‘I’m sure we do,’ I said. ‘Would you like some coffee?’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ he said. ‘Just give me the car keys and I’ll go and have a look and see what I can find. I’ve brought my compressor in case you don’t have one.’

  What’s a compressor?

  We watched him go outside. I had a sudden leap of optimism.

  ‘You don’t think he’s going to steal your car do you?’ Jassy said.

  For a moment I gnawed at a thumbnail and thought about the possibility and then gave an exasperated sigh.

  ‘It’s got a flat tyre, Jassy, remember? This isn’t London.’

  ‘Well wa
tch him – that’s all I’m saying.’

  I went out into the kitchen and switched the coffee machine on and got some mugs out of the dishwasher. Then I tweaked the kitchen curtains back a bit more and watched him. He was rather watchable too, if I was honest.

  He was very tall and broad in a muscly way and he had an ideal profile of strong straight nose, lovely cheekbones and a full lower lip that is supposed to mean a passionate nature. Well, it does in my books anyway.

  The rain had stopped at last and the morning was the best since we had arrived. There was a bright blue sky and even some sunshine, which was burning off the early morning mist that had been hovering over the river down in the valley.

  It was cold though, and a brisk wind was ruffling his dark hair. He made me think of Cormack McDonald, hero of my third book The Life I Always Wanted. Tall and big and rather – oh, for heaven’s sake.

  Joe opened the boot and rummaged around for something and then pulled out a weedy-looking tyre like a toy with a red middle. He looked up, saw me watching him and gave a big grin and a thumbs-up. I shrank back and began making coffee.

  ‘Can I have some?’ Jassy yelled from the next room. ‘And I think there are some KitKats in the cupboard over the sink. If they aren’t there they’ll be in the stone jar in the larder.’

  ‘How do you know? I thought you couldn’t move off the sofa?’ I yelled back.

  Bloody hell.

  Meanwhile Joe was messing about with the flat tyre and constructing something that looked like a giant tin opener whilst jacking the car up off the ground. In a matter of minutes he had replaced the real tyre with the toy one and put the damaged one in the boot. Then he attached some engine sort of thing and pumped the spare tyre up a bit. It was very impressive.

  He came back in the back door, bringing a cold swirl of air with him and the faint scent of wood smoke.

  ‘Okay, should be fine,’ he said, ‘but get a proper one fitted as soon as possible and don’t go over thirty miles an hour until you do. Could I just—’

  He went over to the sink to wash his hands and I waited with the kitchen towel like some sort of theatre nurse by his side.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, drying his hands.

  The kitchen towel had little embroidered vegetables along one edge and he had hands like shovels so the two weren’t exactly compatible. It looked like he was using a handkerchief.

  ‘So, I can drive? I mean I do understand I need to get a new tyre. Where can I get one from?’

  ‘Depends where you’re heading,’ Joe said, handing me the towel.

  I gave him a mug of coffee.

  ‘London!’ Jassy shouted from the other room.

  Joe went into the sitting room where she was still bundled up on the sofa in her nest of blankets and cushions.

  ‘Then your best bet is Okehampton,’ he said. ‘You know how to get there?’

  ‘We’ll find it!’ Jassy said with feeling. ‘We’ve been in this ghastly place for long enough. We’ll find it!’

  It struck me that this desperate haste to leave could be seen as rather insulting.

  ‘I mean we’ve had a lovely break,’ I said, ‘but we have appointments in London we really should keep. So thank you so much.’

  ‘Lovely break? Are you insane?’ Jassy grumbled. ‘It’s been the longest ten days of my life.’

  Joe sipped his coffee and looked thoughtful. ‘Well, you haven’t exactly had good weather, I’ll give you that. I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to get out and about either?’

  ‘We were supposed to be working,’ Jassy said, calming down a little. ‘We’re both writers. We have deadlines to keep, with our publishers. We wanted to recover after Christmas and get back in the groove. But it didn’t quite work out like that. Technology failure I’m afraid, amongst other things.’

  ‘Ah, the MacBook Air cable. I see the relevance now.’

  Jassy smiled up at him through her lashes. I could see a familiar pattern here. Now the car was mended and our escape route was established, Jassy could relax and stop being a stroppy cow and start flirting.

  Jassy flirts with everyone; it’s what she does and being married doesn’t stop her. She’s been known to flirt with policemen, car park attendants and even our accountant. Trust me, our accountant is not the sort of man anyone flirts with – he might have the financial skills of a sorcerer on speed, but he also has halitosis, dandruff and a comb-over. She would find a man as good-looking as Joe Field irresistible.

  Suddenly I didn’t want my sister to flirt with Joe Field. I stepped briskly between them and gave him a warm smile of my own.

  ‘We’re very grateful, Mr Field.’ I looked at my watch; it was half past ten. If we set off soon we could get a new tyre, be back in Notting Hill by early evening and even have time for a comfort stop somewhere too.

  ‘Right then, here are the keys. I’ve put everything back as best I can,’ Joe said.

  He dropped my car keys into my palm; they were still warm from his hand and it was rather thrilling. My fingers curled round them.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome. And thanks for the coffee.’

  He tipped his head back to finish his drink and Jassy watched him with narrowed and speculative eyes.

  ‘Would you like a KitKat?’ she said.

  ‘Um, no thanks, I don’t think so,’ he said.

  ‘Tunnock’s Tea Cake? Orange Club? I think we’ve eaten all the mint ones.’

  ‘Jassy!’ I muttered.

  Joe pulled on his gloves and gave a grin.

  ‘I’m fine thanks. I’ll be off and let you get all packed up and back to the bright lights.’

  I followed him to the front door. I felt a bit reluctant to let him go. I mean we’re all liberated, independent women aren’t we, but it doesn’t mean we don’t appreciate it when a handsome man wanders through our lives.

  ‘Thanks again, Joe,’ I said.

  He turned in the doorway and shrugged his shoulders under his big, waxed coat.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said. ‘I’m always willing to help a damsel in distress.’

  ‘What do you do?’ I said. ‘I’m guessing you’re a farmer.’

  ‘Right first go. I’d better go and get on with it. My farm manager is away for a couple of days. I have sheep up on the moor.’

  ‘Gosh, sheep!’ I said as though it was something really unusual, although I knew from occasionally watching Countryfile that sheep were about the only thing that suited this part of Devon.

  ‘Anyway, I must get on. Don’t forget about that tyre,’ he said.

  ‘I won’t, absolutely not!’

  I watched him walk back down the track to where he had left his mud-splattered Land Rover and then I went back into the house.

  Jassy was already upstairs in her bedroom, gathering together all the discarded clothes and carnage that routinely surrounds her.

  ‘He was rather nice,’ I said.

  Jassy wasn’t listening. ‘We’re off!’ she carolled happily as I stood watching her. She stuffed a handful of scarves into her case. ‘We’ll be back in London tonight. Proper central heating and takeaways and Wi-Fi and actual phone signal.’

  ‘You’ve perked up then,’ I said.

  ‘I have. Haven’t you? And let’s make a sacred pact never to come back here. Ever.’

  I looked out of the window, watching as the sun rose over the valley. It was a beautiful day, and something inside me appreciated for the first time how lovely it could be.

  ‘I think it might be okay if the weather was halfway decent.’

  ‘You have to be bloody joking!’ Jassy said, widening her eyes at me. ‘I’m never going to set foot out of the Greater London area again unless there’s a frigging good reason and a five-star spa at the end of the journey.’

  From being unable to walk further than from her bed to the sofa, Jassy now seemed to have miraculously recovered her mobility and was packed and fidgeting by the front door in no time.

&nbs
p; ‘Hurry up!’ she said. ‘Otherwise it’s going to rain, or there will be a landslip, or some criminals will escape from the prison or something.’

  ‘All right, calm down!’

  We bundled everything into the back seat and boot of the car, left the front door key under the upturned bucket by the kitchen door where we had found it and were off down the road at a jaunty thirty miles an hour heading for a new tyre in the metropolis of delight that was Okehampton.

  Chapter Three

  Equipped with a splendid new tyre and filled with joie de vivre, we were back in London in time to dump our bags (no sign of Benedict at mine) and meet up with the usual suspects for an early supper. After a few shrieking and excitable phone calls Jassy decided we would try the new tapas bar that had opened in our absence. It’s like that where we live: someone opens a great new fusion restaurant in a fanfare of publicity and fire-eaters on the pavement and five minutes later it closes and reopens as a French patisserie.

  The Gang were all there and they welcomed us back as though we had been off finding the source of the Nile. I scanned the room but Benedict didn’t seem to be around which was disappointing.

  ‘Darlings, so pleased to have you safely home where you belong!’

  It was Jassy’s sister-in-law Maudie who had done something strange to her hair so that the roots were still dark brown, but the ends were now frazzled pink.

  ‘Maudie!’

  Jassy embraced her and we all sat down with the others with a great deal of fuss and noise while a waiter hovered in the background with menus liberally sprinkled with pictures of bulls and matadors. I wasn’t actually sure I approved of that if I’m honest. I mean bull fighting is so horrible.

  ‘Ralphie was on the phone last night, complaining about the heat in Antigua. I said don’t give me that, you bastard; try London in the pissing rain. He’s missing you and can’t understand why he hasn’t been able to get through when he’s called,’ Maudie said. At this point she spotted a latecomer and waved a languid hand. ‘Keira, come and sit here! I want to know how the wedding plans are going.’

  ‘I haven’t decided if I’m going to forgive him yet,’ Jassy said, pouting. ‘Those pictures of him in that nightclub were pretty annoying. And he’d better not give me all that “what goes on tour stays on tour” rubbish.’