Euro Tripped

by Sally Bryan

  When I returned, Dan was occupying himself in a manner more enthusiastic than at any other time I’d witnessed - Erecting the tent. It was one of those two-man things that required only a minimum of sense to put up, with no features, bells or whistles. The inflatable mattress and foot pump lay in a heap nearby.

  “You’re good at that,” I observed, handing him a peg, “is Gabe in the camper?”

  He nodded, “and all along you thought it was a faulty septic tank.”

  I hit him with the peg but couldn’t help laughing.

  The side hatch was open and when I stepped inside, Gabe was busy opening a bottle of red.

  “A perfect idea.” I stood behind and wrapped my arms around his belly, giving it a little jiggle and upsetting his steady arm that was attempting to pour the wine.

  He waited for me to cease. “This whole thing was, sorry if I didn’t seem so enthusiastic before but yes, we should be doing more things like this. It is what I’d wanted for this trip.” When he’d poured four glasses, he handed me one.

  I took a sip and enjoyed the delicious nectar as it made my mouth dance. “Maybe I should have discussed the idea, rather than…” I let it slide as he waved it away.

  He clinked his glass against mine and his pupils shrank as he stared through the opened hatch into the distance. I turned around to see that Arwen was pottering through the field several minutes away, making her way back.

  “But we do need to discuss the sleeping arrangement.” He said with a flat tone.

  “Ah.” My glass paused halfway to my mouth. The subject of who was sleeping where had probably been lurking in my head somewhere, though I’d given it little conscious consideration and I remained silent for Gabe's suggestion.

  He too was pausing in anticipation that perhaps I’d put forth the obvious and when I didn’t he finally said the words himself. “I’m sure you’re aware that Dan fancies the arse off of Arwen, yeah?”

  I straightened, sipped wine, tasted nothing. “Well sure, but that doesn’t mean that…”

  “Look, we can’t all sleep in the camper. We have a pullout double bed, which will be comfortable but any more than two and somebody’ll have a severely cricked neck come the morning.” He spoke fast and looked at me with an impatient expression because Arwen was even now sauntering her sweet little way into our proximity.

  “I see. The camper will take four. You slept for hours in the passenger seat the other day and there’s a bench just here.” I pointed futilely to the narrow bench that was barely wide enough to fit an average sized bum.

  “No, no, the bench gets covered when you pull out the bed and you can’t expect anyone to spend a full night on the front seats.” He was tapping his foot and making a circular motion with his hand like he was telling me to be quick and see sense. “Of course, it could feasibly sleep four but it won’t be comfortable and besides, that’s not the point and you know it.” He shook his head. “Please, don’t play dumb because I know you’re not. You know what I’m getting at.”

  I took a sharp inhalation that he didn’t hear. “Gabe, they’re not dating. They’re not a couple…”

  He made a clicking sound with his mouth. “Well, it’s gonna happen eventually … maybe this’ll help things along.”

  I laughed at that because it was just so ridiculous. “You can’t force these things. If it happens, it happens but you can’t expect that poor girl to share a tent with a guy she may have no romantic interest in.” I was momentarily distracted by a loud rhythmical squeaking from not far away and I glanced over my shoulder to find Dan stomping up and down on the foot pump, mattress pulsing from his efforts as long clumps of hair dislodged from his man bun.

  Gabe shook his head and spoke with a straight face. “Like I said, this might help them along. You want them to be happy don’t you?” He grabbed the other two glasses from the countertop. “Besides, we need our privacy because we’re having sex tonight.” And at that he strode past, leaving me speechless. “Arwen, have some wine.”

  “Ugh!” I tugged at the frilly material at my collar then, taking my wine, decided to occupy myself with the food, frying some Spanish sausage goodness in the pan.

  Within minutes the smoke was attracting the attention of the others and when they were ready, I brought the sausages out on a plate with some cheese and rustic bread.

  “That’s one devil of a combo,” Dan remarked and I had to agree. Spicy Spanish sausage and red wine.

  The sun was beginning to sink over the western horizon and although it wouldn’t be cold tonight, the boys had collected sticks for a fire.

  I went to the nearby stream for a moment of serenity and to enjoy the gentle trickling, a sound older than Spain, the butterflies of white and black, red and purple and a magnificent green and red combination. I swatted at a mosquito then another and cursed the blighters, for it was yet another thing I’d not considered but screw them. Beyond, on the horizon, the Pyrenees with its natural border made me feel small and insignificant, reminding me that my time was finite and when it was gone it was gone, I’d never have it back. “I’m not a mountain.” I sniggered, knowing I probably sounded profound in the moment but would be embarrassed if only I could hear myself later as clearly, the first sign of the red taking effect was manifesting, which meant I was liable to say even more foolish things as the evening progressed.

  “I’d say you’re more a medium sized hill.”

  I whipped around, tasting wine in my sinus, to find Arwen treading over in that slow, carefree way of hers. “You shouldn’t do that. What is that?”

  She was grinning and approached with what I now saw to be one of those leather mosquito bands. She had one on her wrist and another on her ankle and I’d always liked the way they looked on her, totally complementing her almost hippie look.

  “I saw you swatting like a madwoman and I have like a whole bagful of these, so…” without even asking permission, she took my hand and I felt her fingers grazing my flesh as she wound the strap gently around my wrist, the sweet scent of Aloe Vera from the band, hers and mine, filling the small space between us as the gentle rhythm of her breathing seemed to match the flow of the stream. My limp fingers were pressed against her abdomen, lithe and taut beneath her dress as her biceps held the weight of my arm. Her eyes were fixed on my wrist as she gave her full attention to the small task, tying the ends together and then, after what seemed like only a few seconds but was probably a lot longer, she gently returned my arm to its side.

  She looked up and caught my eye as she brushed away the red braid that had fallen over her face.

  “Thank you,” I said, holding her eye contact before finally, looking down and stepping away. “Damned mosquitoes are everywhere. You enjoying the wine?”

  It was a worthless, damned obvious and nothing of a question but she didn’t treat it that way. “It’s delicious and I’ll be having lots more of it.”

  “We should get some now.” I raised my almost empty glass and looked beyond her to where the boys were sitting on two deck chairs, leaning back, hands clasped behind their heads. “I also have another idea.”

  We returned to the camper and as Arwen refilled our glasses, I delved into the glove box before finding Dan’s guitar partly hidden beneath a pile of dirty t-shirts.

  Dan’s eyes narrowed as we approached. “You can see it has no G-string?”

  I handed him the instrument then pulled out from my pocket the nylon coil in transparent plastic bag. “You’re a jerk but I still love you.”

  His eyes widened and then he leaned forward to pluck the bag from my hands. “Freya, I’m gonna snog you later. Where did you get this?”

  I held up my hands. “Just a little shop in Carcassonne.” I wouldn’t say that I hoped he’d be able to start busking again so that he could earn and feed himself. “All I ask is that you’ll play us a few songs?”

  “Of course.” He beamed and began securing the string in earnest.

  Gabe slapped his knees. “I suppose I’ll
get this fire started then.”

  It took around twenty minutes, which included finding anything flammable from the camper we could use to ignite the twigs and sticks. Gabe had even arranged a small circle of stones around the periphery as a precaution against it getting out of control and once the fire was going, the whole setting was beginning to resemble something from my ideal, imaginary camping adventure. Even the sky was darkening now whilst Dan tuned the guitar and Arwen brought out the frying pan filled with the next dose of pork.

  Within minutes we all had wine, the meat was sizzling on the flame, the smoke doing what it should as twilight enveloped Catalonia and finally, Dan began to play.

  I hadn’t been sure what to expect but my first thought was that yes, he was a competent musician as he played what I recognised to be an Ed Sheeran song, in his own style, with his own twists.

  I unscrewed another bottle of red and filled everyone’s glasses, handing Arwen hers.

  “You seem surprised.” She said with a smirk, though her words carried a slight rebuking tone. “He’s managed to travel the world off the back of his musical ability.”

  I smiled reluctantly, “I’ve been unfair to him.” I held my eyes closed as I considered the bitch I’d been to these people. It wasn’t me. At least, it wasn’t the me I wanted to be. “And I was unfair to you too and for that I’m sorry.”

  We were slouching on the grass as Gabe perched forward on his deckchair, tending the frying pan out of earshot.

  She waved it away. “I deserved it. The first time we met, I screeched at you.” She turned to face me fully, propping up her head with a hand as I unconsciously did the same. “And for that, I’m sorry.”

  The effects of the wine made my head swirl in a delightful way though despite the alcohol, or perhaps because of it, I momentarily couldn’t think of anything to say and there was a silence, not totally unawkward, as we shared eye contact from across the small space between us. Finally, I demonstrated my social ineptitude.

  “I’ve not been bitten.” I held up my wrist, just in case she wasn’t aware of what I was referring and cringed inwardly.

  She grinned, showed no reaction to my discomfort and held the back of her wrist toward me. “Bump.”

  I smiled and lightly touched my wrist to hers.

  This girl was seriously cool. “Ah.” She held up a finger and jumped up and there was a mis-chord played as three sets of eyes watched her skip through the camper’s open door. Ten seconds later she returned, holding another mosquito band. “For your ankle.”

  I almost knocked my glass over as she skipped back and plonked herself on the grass to my fore, facing away so I couldn’t see as I felt her fingers glance over my ankle and the leather lightly caressed my skin. She leaned against the outside of my thigh and hummed to the new song being played. Her hair was bunched over to one side, coming to fall between my legs and giving me a first glimpse of the back of her neck and the yin and yang symbol tattooed there in black ink, very cool, in case I hadn’t already taken her for the spiritual type. My eyes slowly traced a path down, from where her shoulders projected over her narrow waist, her back tapering into a v until it met her midriff, impossibly tight, from where her hips broadened to mirror the width of her shoulders.

  “Almost didn’t want to disturb you there.” It was Gabe, who loomed above us with a plate. “They’re cooked.”

  Arwen patted my leg as if to say she was done and stood, revealing the blue band on my ankle to match the brown one on my wrist.

  And then we enjoyed an exceptionally relaxing late evening eating, drinking more wine and generally unwinding, talking and even singing along with Dan who eventually began playing songs we knew the words to, the old classics like American Pie, Wonderwall and House of the Rising Sun, proving he also had an awesome singing voice.

  At one point Arwen began to dance and I wondered if it was the wine or simply the fact we had music. We all watched mesmerised as her body moved in perfect symmetry with the song like she’d rehearsed the routine over and over, yet for all I knew she was probably inventing it all on the spot. She moved with her eyes closed, like the only things that existed were the music and her body’s own movements in her own world. Her body flexed and twisted and rolled and turned with a grace and poise I’d never seen so close, a fluidity that merged one move with the next as though they were one, her arms lightly glistening from the exertion, the fire crackling and illuminating her curves and when the song ended she finished as though it was anticipated and we all clapped, the master had shown us her thing.

  She blushed, waved it away and crouched to retrieve her wine. “Whew, that’s my exercise for the night.”

  I was already walking over, my wrist extended for the bump, which she returned because apparently, that was our thing now.

  The temperature had dipped due to the breeze, we were in an open valley, after all, and Gabe went scavenging for more sticks whilst Arwen strolled off into the trees. It provided a natural break in the evening and, surveying the wreckage of the food, four beer and two empty wine bottles, I teetered into the camper to retrieve a third along with whatever food remained.

  Dan clobbered his shoulder into the doorsill as he staggered inside after me and I laughed, almost rubbed him on the offended arm but thought better of it at the last moment.

  “I’m glad you were able to stumble your way in because I just wanted to say that even though you’re the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met, I’m still bloody glad to have met you.”

  He leaned against the threshold, propping his arm on the panel above his head, effectively the thin end of a sheet of metal that was propping him up, for now at least. “I’ll remind you of this moment when you’re sober.”

  “Just you do, Dan Belcher, and I’ll say the same thing, that it’s a tragedy you’re not staying with us … and Arwen, Arwen too.”

  He beamed and shook his head. “Believe me, I really would but I think Gabe has, um, plans, he…” and at that, he abruptly stopped, like he was having to force himself.

  “Well, I want those plans to include the both of you.” I sulked, knowing how silly I sounded for changing my mind.

  “Be careful what you wish for.” He squinted and readjusted his arm as I wondered what he meant by that. “There’s no guarantee the girl’ll stick around forever and then it’ll be just me … a Frey sandwich and I’ve no real desire to get that close to Gay Boy.”

  I assumed I understood the innuendo he was getting at but my mind jumped back to his other words. “What do you mean, there’s no guarantee she’ll stick around forever?” As I awaited his answer, I was mostly unaware of just how hard I was twisting the bottle in my grasp.

  He belched and thumped his chest. “She’s a bit of a free spirit, in case you hadn’t noticed and precisely the kind of bird who’d get along in any group.” And any group would be happy to take her. He sighed and for the first time I saw in his face what appeared to be a vulnerability, of doubt and I knew at once what it was. Everything he’d been through with her up to this point, the way he always looked at her, how he reacted back in Andorra la Vella - Dan was besotted with Arwen.

  And now that I realised it, I could see it so clearly. How the mere mention of her name had made the skin bunch around his eyes, giving him a pained stare as we faced each other in the dim light of the camper and even now, the hand hovering over his head was clenching and unclenching in a subconscious display of anguish. It was a side to Dan he’d managed to keep concealed beneath his often disagreeable front but now that alcohol had been added to the mix, and was doing what it does, his true feelings, or some other part of himself, were being revealed.

  His mouth moved to speak but there was only a croak and he inhaled a deep breath before trying again. “I’m just terr…” he hesitated and changed tack, puffing out his chest just enough for me to notice, “I recognise the possibility that she might find another group in Barcelona, or some man, or something, and that’ll be fucking it.”

  �
��Dan?” I stepped forward but felt useless.

  He flapped a pathetic hand and I felt for him. “Nothing seems to be fucking working. It’s like she has literally no interest in me.” If it had been any other moment, I’d have probably laughed at that, but now? “What is it about me, Frey?”

  I blew out air and tasted the faintest sour whiff of what had to have come from his armpit, a smell, I remembered from the time Gabe had helped me with a bunch of boxes from Ikea. “I…”

  “I mean, I’m fun to be around. I know I’m not completely ugly, I’ve had girlfriends before but…” he shook his head in exasperation, “…useless. I’ve lost my powers, Frey, what is it?”

  How could I tell a guy I’d grown to like and could easily grow to like a lot more the kind of truth that would devastate him, that from how I saw it at least, there was an awful lot wrong with him. I could only say it from my own point of view, that he’d probably need to spend years working on himself. Put simply, some guys you could never be attracted to and I hated that I felt so bad about that. But it was Arwen’s opinion that mattered and I knew she felt more or less the same as I did, she’d already told me so, that Dan was a friend and would never be anything more.

  My hand was touching my chest, “I wish I could help you, Dan, I really do.”

  “You can,” he said deliberately.

  I wasn’t sure where this could possibly lead but I had to hear him out. “Yes?”

  He looked me straight on. “I’m hoping to be alone with her tonight, either in the tent or camper, I’m not too bothered which, so it would be pretty cool if you could assist in any way you’re able.” Oh, not this again.

  “Assist? How am I supposed to assist in making Arwen have feelings for you?”

  He continued with conviction, despite the words tumbling out with barely any coherence. “I don’t know, I don’t know. Perhaps you could make it known, in case she asks, or kicks up a fuss … maybe you can tell her up front, I don’t know … that it’s been ages since you and Gay Boy have given each other a good panelling, which is probably the truth anyway, and you were both hoping to be alone tonight in the camper, or tent, to thump each others’ brains out. You got anything better? You’re a girl. And we have more wine, so…”