The True Love Travels Series Box Set

by Poppy Pennington-Smith

  Under Harry – Reasons to Stick Together she scrawled:

  Stable

  Kind

  Reliable

  Attentive

  Loyal

  Supported me through dad’s illness

  Good career prospects

  Under Harry – Doubts she wrote just one sentence:

  Do we want the same things?

  Just a sentence. A much shorter column than the reasons to stick together column, but as she looked at those words – stable, reliable, attentive – she felt a tugging, twisting sensation in her stomach. Was that what she wanted? Blake had asked her outright. Straight to the point. What do you want? And now, sitting hundreds of miles away from Harry and staring at her list, she honestly felt as if she had no idea.

  Did she want to settle down? Give up travelling? Go back to Cooper’s? Get married and train as an accountant?

  Or did she want to be free? Travel the world. Chase her dreams.

  When she’d been using her mum as an excuse not to travel, the fact that Harry didn’t want to hadn’t seemed important. But now Mum had persuaded her it was okay, and she was starting to enjoy the competition, she didn’t see how she could resolve things.

  Suddenly, a rush of anger swept through her and she tore the page out of her notebook, crushed it into a ball and threw it towards the waste paper bin. She missed. Groaned. And flung herself back on the bed, staring at the unmoving ceiling fan.

  What she wanted was the kind of relationship her parents had had. They’d been together since school and, even though her mum didn’t particularly like travelling, somehow they had made something beautiful. They just got each other. When her father went away to write and research his books, he’d send her mother a postcard from every place he visited, and when he came home, they’d act like teenagers falling in love for the first time. Every time.

  Beth glanced at the time. It was six a.m. in Oxford. She picked up her phone and dialled Harry’s number.

  The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

  Eventually, a gruff voice on the other end muttered, “Beth?”

  “Harry!” She sat up, relieved to hear his voice. “I’m so sorry I didn’t call sooner...”

  “I’ve been worried. Have you been avoiding me?”

  “No. Of course not. How are things at home?”

  She heard shuffling in the background. He was probably pushing himself up on his pillows, swiping his floppy red hair from his face and wiping sleep from his eyes. “Work has been difficult.” His tone was clipped. He was annoyed with her.

  “Oh. Because of me?”

  “It’s really impacted Helen’s faith in me, Beth.”

  “I’m sorry, Harry.”

  “And, as for me getting you your job back, I don’t think it’s going to be possible. I’ll make some calls, see if I can put a word in with some other travel firms. Did you look at the emails I sent you?”

  Beth inhaled slowly and tried not to let herself feel annoyed. “Harry, I told you I don’t know what I want to do yet. And, besides, I might win the competition...”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. And then Harry replied, “You said it was just a holiday. You said there was no way you’d win. You said you didn’t want to win.”

  “I know.” She was trying to pick the most diplomatic words. “But now I’m here and I’m actually doing it – writing, travelling, seeing these amazing things – I can’t imagine coming back home and just going back to normal. And Blake. Well, he’s so arrogant it’s kind of made me determined to beat him.”

  “What are you saying, Beth? You’re saying you don’t want to come home?” There wasn’t even an ounce of affection in Harry’s voice, and Beth could picture his face turning pink around the edges as he tried not to sound angry.

  “No, of course not.” She sighed. Why couldn’t she find the words to explain? “I just... I want to do my best, Harry. I want to try and win.”

  “And if you do, you’re expecting me to come with you? Leave everything and travel around the world?”

  “Would you?”

  Without even a pause for thought, Harry guffawed into the phone. “Of course not! How could I? The new branch is opening in a few months, Beth. And despite the show you made, they’re talking about making me Branch Manager.”

  “Right. Well, that’s okay, I’ll just send you plenty of postcards.” She was joking, trying to be light-hearted, thinking of her parents and how they managed to still love each other and be happy even when her father travelled a lot.

  “Postcards? I’m supposed to let my girlfriend go away for an entire year and rely on postcards?”

  “Let me? I’m not really asking for your permission, Harry! I’m just trying to talk to you about it. Clearly you’re not in the mood to listen to what I need to say.”

  “Beth, I always listen to what you say. Always. But you don’t listen to me. I don’t want to go travelling. And I don’t want to be with someone who’s never in the country. I know your parents did it, but quite frankly it’s not normal. A husband and wife are supposed to be together. They’re supposed to work together for their family. Not abandon one another and jet off around the world.”

  “Husband and wife? Harry we’re not married.” The mention of her parents, and his criticism of them, had made her blood boil and she was close to hanging up.

  “Then maybe that’s what you need to think about.”

  “What? Marriage?”

  “Do you want to get married and settle down or are you going to keep chasing this dream?”

  “You’re asking me to choose between travelling and getting married?”

  Harry paused. Then, quietly, he said, “Yes. I think I am, Beth.”

  “I don’t want to get married.” The words came out before she had the chance to stop them.

  “You don’t?”

  There was no going back now. She had to finish what she’d started. “One day, Harry. But not now. And not–”

  “Not to me.” Harry finished her sentence. But it wasn’t a question.

  Beth scraped her hair back and blinked up at the ceiling. Tears had started to roll down her cheeks but she made no attempt to stop them.

  “Harry, I...”

  “Goodbye Beth. Have a good trip.”

  Day Four, Kamloops to Banff

  The next morning, Beth woke up with her phone cradled against her stomach. She’d tried calling Harry back, but he’d refused to answer. And, eventually, he’d sent her a text message saying, Let’s talk when you get home. We both need some space to think about things. I still care for you Beth.

  She’d stopped crying after that and had eventually managed to fall asleep.

  Opening the curtains to the sun rising over Kamloops and the sight of the train station in the distance, Beth sighed and deftly tied her hair back into a French braid.

  She hated feeling as if she’d let Harry down, or hurt his feelings, or thrown back all the kindness he’d shown her in the time they’d been together. But, at the same time, she felt a sense of relief. She’d finally admitted it out loud, to herself and Harry – he wasn’t the person she could imagine spending her life with. Maybe she was crazy, trying to find the kind of relationship her parents had. Maybe that kind of true love only existed in fairy tales. But she knew what her father would say. He’d tell her never to let go of her dreams. And, so far, his advice had never been wrong.

  So, she packed up her bag and readied herself for the second leg of the Rocky Mountaineer train journey feeling weary but considerably more at peace than she had felt for a long time.

  In the lobby, she found Blake and Emily standing together near the entrance. They both looked up and waved as she approached.

  “Morning, Beth.” Emily hugged her briefly. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Fine, thanks.” Beth was avoiding looking at Blake and she wasn’t sure why, but as Emily motioned towards the rail station transport outside and went on ahead, he whispered, “So, do I need t
o go find Doris? Or will I have the pleasure of your company?”

  Beth looked at him out of the corner of her eye and tried not to smile. “You’re being very polite.”

  “Well, I woke up this morning and decided I’d try at least one day of not being a total jerk in your presence.”

  “It’s a little disconcerting. Makes me feel as if you’re up to something.”

  “Geez. I can’t win, can I?” He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

  “I guess you can ride with me today.”

  Blake nodded. “Much appreciated.”

  “Seriously. Stop being weird.”

  “Alright. But did I tell you I like your hair today?”

  Beth raised her right eyebrow – a trick she’d mastered when she was at school – and put her hand on her hip.

  “Oh, okay. That’s a look I don’t want to see too often.” Blake laughed and put his hands up as if he was expecting a poke in the ribs.

  “Are you done?”

  “I’m done.”

  Aboard the train and moving slowly out of the station, Beth and Blake sat opposite one another in the Gold Leaf dining car, waiting for their breakfast order of pancakes with maple syrup.

  “Is Canadian maple syrup really that good?” Beth asked, waving at Mike and Doris but talking to Blake.

  Blake’s eyes widened as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Ah. Yeah. It is.”

  “But with bacon?”

  “Yeah, with bacon. You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten maple syrup with bacon.”

  “Then I guess I’ve lived a very sheltered life so far.”

  “I guess you have. What’s the best place you’ve travelled to?”

  Beth looked down and fiddled with her napkin. “I haven’t been much further than Europe, to be honest.”

  Blake looked up, then quickly focussed on his plate. “Don’t feel bad. I haven’t made it much further than Toronto since my gap year after college.”

  Beth frowned and stopped eating. “But… your blog? You write about India and Vietnam and New York…”

  Blake cleared his throat and gave a small sheepish sigh. “Yeah. See, the thing is. That’s kind of why I never emailed you back before we got here.”

  Beth tilted her head, waiting for him to explain.

  “You seemed genuinely impressed by my writing and it made me feel a bit of a fraud. I’ve never been to most of those places. At least not recently. That’s probably why I’ve been so…” He moved a half-eaten piece of pancake around his plate with his fork.

  “Antagonistic?” Beth gave him the eyebrow again.

  “Have I been antagonistic?”

  “And rude, sarcastic, arrogant, mean…”

  “Okay, okay. I get it…” Blake raised his palms at her as if he was shielding himself from an onslaught of bullets. “What I’m trying to say is that my stuff is just content. I’ve done okay. I’m making a living. But not a huge one.” He shook his head and shrugged. “The irony is, I don’t have the time or the money to properly travel. That’s why I entered the competition. So that I can really make a go of it.”

  “Wow. And here was me thinking that you were so much more experienced than me.” Beth sat back in her chair, looking at him as if all the pieces had suddenly fallen into place.

  “No way. I’ve just got more of a strategy to what I’m doing. But your actual writing… you’re good, Beth. Really good. Like, your piece on dark tourism. That blew my mind. That’s real writing.”

  “You read that?” Beth felt herself start to blush.

  Blake pushed his fingers through his hair and shrugged as if it was no big deal. “I discovered your blog a while back.”

  “I saw that you recommended my piece on hostels in Oxford, but I thought you’d just seen it somewhere online. I didn’t realise you were a fan.” Beth smiled cheekily, enjoying teasing him for once instead of it being the other way around.

  “Oh yeah. The biggest. I have your picture on my wall and everything.”

  “Well that’s just creepy.”

  By the time the train rolled into the small mountain town of Banff, Beth’s opinion of Blake O’Brien was most definitely beginning to soften.

  They still didn’t see eye-to-eye on the ins and outs of succeeding as a professional blogger. But Blake was actually making a living at it, and she wasn’t. So, eventually she conceded that he probably knew a little more than she did and agreed to let him give her some ‘constructive’ feedback on her site.

  “Are you sure you have time? We’ve got to submit our next article by midnight,” she said as they disembarked onto the platform.

  “Of course. I write quick, remember?”

  Beth was about to tell him it could wait until later in the trip, or even after the competition had finished, but then she looked up. And she saw the mountains. And her breath caught in her chest.

  Despite the fact they’d been travelling through Canada’s incredible scenery all afternoon, standing there in the fresh evening air and looking at Banff’s misty mountain backdrop made her feel like crying.

  “Gosh.” She turned to Blake. “Can you imagine living here? Waking up and seeing this view every single morning. On your way to work. On the way to the grocery store. How could you ever be unhappy living in a place like this?”

  Blake’s lips curled into a subtle smile. “You know, I don’t think you could be. I think you’d be eternally, sickeningly, happy.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  11

  Day Five, Banff

  As soon as she saw their Banff accommodation, Beth vowed to wake early enough to watch the sunrise over the mountains. Their rooms were in a log cabin B&B at the north end of the town, elevated above the trees so that it looked down on the Bow River below. It was everything she’d imagined when she’d thought of Banff on the way there: wood panelled walls, cosy bedrooms, and huge windows with views of the river.

  At five a.m., the morning after the Rocky Mountaineer train pulled into Banff station, her alarm woke her. She hopped out of bed, pulled on a fresh pair of jeans, a checked grey shirt and her grandmother’s knitted cardigan, then headed outside with her camera.

  Outside, she tiptoed down the steps at the front of the cabin and into the copse of trees below. It wasn’t dark but it wasn’t light yet either, so everything felt slightly hazy – as if a thin invisible mist was winding its way through the town.

  Finally at the river, she sat down on the rocky bank and waited. Soon, the sky began to lighten. The clouds around the tops of the mountains were clearing. The river became bluer and bluer, as if it was a painting and the artist was brushing in some extra splashes of colour. Then, the moment she’d been waiting for - the sun danced across the peaks of the mountains, giving each one a tiny orange crown before gliding into view.

  Beth drank it in. Every second of it. The air, and the landscape, and the fact that she was hundreds of miles away from home, doing what she’d always promised her father she would do.

  “I love you, Dad,” she whispered, closing her eyes and clasping her necklace. “I wish we could have seen this together.”

  Entering the lobby, still dazzled by the beauty of the sunrise, Beth bumped almost straight into a coffee-wielding Blake.

  “Hey,” he was holding two travel mugs and handed her one. “I saw you head down to the river. Early start.”

  Beth sipped the coffee – Canadian coffee was good – and tugged at her oversized cardigan. “It was beautiful down there.”

  “Maybe I’ll join you tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” They wandered towards the breakfast room and picked a table by the window. “So,” she said, sitting down and wrapping both hands around the mug Blake had given her. “I looked at today’s itinerary.”

  Blake’s features crumpled into an amused frown. “You did?”

  “I did. A car is picking us up...” she glanced at her phone for the time, “in exactly one hour’s time for a trip to the infamous Alabama Gl
acier icefields.”

  Opposite her, Blake nearly spat out his coffee. “It’s A-th-a-basca,” he said, almost coughing with laughter. “Not Al-a-bama, you donut.”

  “Donut?” Beth’s cheeks were flushed, but she couldn’t help laughing at herself. She raised her palms at him and shook her hair over her shoulder. “I’m not going to argue. I read the itinerary and still got it wrong. Clearly, I’m not cut out for this.”

  Blake, still chuckling, motioned for the waiter. Once again, he ordered pancakes with bacon and syrup and, ignoring the voice in her head that told her to ask for granola, she followed suit.

  As they ate together, and chatted about the day ahead, she caught Blake smiling at her.

  “You’re not still laughing at me are you?”

  “I was just admiring your outfit...”

  Beth sat up and tugged at the sleeves of her cardigan. “Not very fashionable, I know. My grandmother knitted it...”

  “I was talking about what’s underneath the cardigan.” Blake was looking straight at her and Beth felt herself visibly flinch.

  “Underneath?”

  As if he’d only just realised what he’d said, Blake clattered his fork loudly onto his plate and waved his hands at her. “I meant the shirt. Your shirt. Your checked shirt.” He was speaking quickly and his neck was turning red around his collar line.

  Beth looked down. Then remembered what she’d put on. A grey checked shirt. Almost identical to the ones she’d been making fun of Blake for wearing since they’d met in Vancouver.

  As their eyes met, both of them started to laugh. And then, just as they’d managed to take a breath and were about to try and finish their breakfast, Emily appeared to tell them their cab was on the way.

  “By the way,” she said as she turned to go find her own table. “Love the coordinated looks today, guys.” Then, with a playful nod, “Blake, did you lend Beth one of your shirts?”

  As Emily walked away, Beth buried her head in her hands. She was laughing so hard that tears were springing to her eyes. And when she looked up, Blake’s cheeks were wet too.