by S J Crabb
Once again, I feel smug as I pull my case effortlessly behind me as I follow them, trying to ignore the rather annoying sound of the wheels on the stone path.
As days go in January, this one seems quite a good one. I’m grateful for my shades as the sun beats down from a cloudless sky, reminding us that spring is hopefully not too far away. The ground is hard beneath my feet and I’m glad I wore the snow boots because they are comfortable and are keeping my feet warm on the rather hard ground that has been the recipient of frost during the night.
Taking a deep breath of the crystal pure air, I thank God I decided to do this. Yes, this is what I need, a detox after the shock of the last few days. To re-energise my mind and take stock of my new life. To remind myself of what’s important in life and to embrace the unknown before I become a woman of status and importance in the modern corporate world.
Smiling to myself, I see a couple of squirrels playing among the trees and hear the sound of a bird above my head. The wind whips carefully around me with a cool breeze that soothes my increasingly heated body. In fact, the more we walk, the hotter I get and soon the ear muffs are deposited in my pocket as I crave the soothing cool breeze to calm my increasing temperature.
The others appear to be lost in their own thoughts as they use all their energy to keep up with our surly guide. He only looks around once in the first hour and for all he knew, we could have been abducted by wolves or fallen down a ravine. Probably ten minutes after meeting him, I decide he is definitely not my type. Sexy, yes. Good looking, incredibly. Strong, obviously. Swoon worthy, absolutely. However, all those good points are magically erased by the fact he is obviously a complete asshole. He is rude, abrupt and surly. He has no conversation and appears to lack any shred of social interaction that I would have thought was imperative for a job such as this. Surely, they could have picked a better guide than him. I thought tour guides were supposed to be fun and entertaining. I thought we’d be singing some hearty songs as we trudge through the forest, or play games designed to keep our spirits up. He obviously tore up the memo because he is decidedly rude and if I could be bothered to think anything of him at all, it would be to hate him with a passion.
We stop for a breather at the top of a hill and the view from it is breath-taking. I watch as my companions produce some kind of water bottles from their backpacks and sink down onto a grassy bank and take the weight off their feet. Once again, feeling rather smug, I lay my case down and note that it’s now completely plastered in mud. Reaching into my cosmetics holdall, I take out a wet wipe and wipe my case clean before sitting on it and producing a can of red bull from my rations and sip it delicately as I take in the view.
I don’t miss the envious looks Felicity throws me as James pulls her down beside him and throws her his hip flask. “Remember, Felicity, small sips only, we need to conserve our rations.”
He then proceeds to consult his ordnance survey map again and points out various items on it to a bored looking other half.
The Germans are whispering to themselves, and if I knew any German at all, I’m not sure it would help me. It all sounds rather difficult to understand, so I resign myself to a lot of alone time during the next couple of days. Finn appears to be brooding about something, so I whip out my phone and take some selfies, making sure I get the stunning view in the background. Applying a filter to the best one, I load it to Instagram with the hashtag #livingmybestlife.
I catch Finn watching me with an expression of utter amazement as I tuck my phone inside my pocket and say loudly, “Well, I must say this is a real treat. I never get out to the country and now I can see what I’ve been missing.”
Felicity looks interested. “Where are you from?”
“London.”
Finn smirks and the Germans appear disinterested. James continues to pore over his map and Felicity says quickly, “Goodness, what made you decide to do this? If you don’t normally leave the city, it’s quite an undertaking.”
Shrugging, I say sadly, “Because I’ve lost someone who meant everything to me and I’m doing it for her.”
Felicity edges closer and I shift along and pat the space next to me on the case, which she takes gladly. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She lowers her voice and I see Finn turn away, seemingly uninterested, so I say in a low voice, “My Aunt Daisy. You know, Felicity, she was an amazing woman and if I turn out to be half the person she was, I would be forever grateful.”
“I’m sorry, Lily, was it a short illness?”
“You could say that.” I sigh. “She died of a heart attack in the night and for all we knew she was as healthy as you or I. I suppose that’s what makes it so hard to deal with.”
Felicity rubs my arm and says softly, “I’m so sorry, Lily.”
Shrugging, I whisper, “You know she had this amazing list that she wrote when she was a young woman starting out.”
“What did it say?” Felicity’s eyes are wide as I say sadly, “I suppose some may call it a bucket list, but it was a list of things she wanted to do in life. I suppose it was her idea of what a perfect life would look like. The thing is, Felicity, she decided the most important thing was being successful, which she did big time. But it was the other stuff…”
“Rest over, grab your things, we need to push on to reach base camp.”
Jumping up, Felicity says wearily, “Sorry, Lily. Maybe we can finish this conversation at base camp. I’d love to know what was on that list.”
“Felicity, hurry up, Finn’s already a few yards ahead.”
Rolling her eyes, Felicity heaves her impossibly large rucksack onto her back and scurries after him with the Germans following closely behind. Sighing, I pick up my case and resign myself to dragging it for at least another hour, but still feel glad I brought it. It’s been a little difficult, I’ll admit that. Several times I’ve had to haul it over a tree root, or lift it over a muddy puddle while the others don’t even miss a step. However, knowing all my possessions are carefully protected inside and my back won’t need a chiropractor at the end of this, is reward enough for bringing it, despite the few minor inconveniences it involves.
As I follow them, I laugh to myself as I sense the annoyance of our reluctant guide. I’m guessing he thought my wheels would have fallen off by now, and I’d be forced to retreat to one of those snug little cabins. Once again, I congratulating myself on my forward planning because if it gets too much, all I need to do is phone for a cab to come and get me from base camp and take me back to woodland paradise.
Yes, this is all turning out rather well and my smug sense of personal achievement is the only companion I need as I head towards base camp.
♥12
As we trudge on through the forest, I am questioning every part of me that thought this was a good idea. Why on earth did I make this so hard for myself? I could have just hired one of those wooden cabins and spent the evening on the veranda, star gazing or something, while the wood burner bathed me in its warming heat, making everything good with my life.
Not this. I’m hungry, thirsty and hot. My snow boots started to rub an hour ago, and I’m sure there’s some kind of massacre playing out inside them. My leather-look trousers are seriously causing me to sweat and the padded jacket that looked so white and ski-like, is now marbled with mud and leaves from the trees we pass under. Any make up I had on has now streaked down my face and the only thing keeping me going is the thought that base camp can’t be far and I’ll soon be tucked up in my Cath Kidston home from home after a hearty meal and a rendition of ging gang goolie around the campfire.
Two hours later, we reach a clearing and I swear my hands are now blistered from pulling the case what feels like a hundred miles uphill. I almost can’t speak because all the breath in my body is now reserved for keeping me alive.
I will definitely not be taking any selfies in the next hour or so because there is absolutely nothing glamorous about this whole expedition and yet infuriatingly, our guide and the
two Germans looks as if they’ve just taken a gentle stroll through the forest and haven’t even broken a sweat.
As soon as we reach the clearing, Felicity collapses on the ground and shrugs off her backpack. “Thank goodness for that. I don’t think I could have walked another step.”
She consults her Fitbit and punches the air triumphantly. “10001, job done.”
James looks at his wrist and appears annoyed. “Are you sure, darling? Mine is saying I’ve only done 9891. Yours must be malfunctioning.”
Felicity just glares at him. “Maybe yours is malfunctioning. Then again, maybe you didn’t take as many steps as I did. You have longer legs and cover more ground than I can. I also kept running back to chat to Lily while you stayed where you were, so theoretically, I covered more distance than you. So, James, maybe you should go for a gentle jog to catch up because it appears that I’m the winner on this occasion.”
She turns away and winks at me, and I laugh to myself as I see his furious expression. One, nil to Felicity and I’m backing her all the way.
Finn says loudly, “Ok, this is it. Time to erect your tents for the night. I would suggest we make them into a circle. We don’t have long before the light goes and I’m keen to establish a fire in the centre where we can cook our meals and keep warm.”
He starts pointing at each of us and directing us to certain positions, and soon the area is awash in a frenzy of tent building.
I watch with interest as James takes charge and starts issuing orders to Felicity like a drill sergeant. She runs around doing as she’s told and I sigh inside. I don’t want that. When I find love, I want the hearts and flowers. I want the romance and wining and dining. When I commit to someone, I want us to be an equal team and to keep the flame burning high after several years together. As I see the silent fury in Felicity’s eyes as James yells at her for not pulling tightly enough, I turn away.
Meanwhile, the Germans have their equipment laid out in an orderly fashion and are systematically erecting their home from home with a military precision. Taking a short time to appreciate their skill, I am rudely brought back to the moment as Finn barks, “Adams, stop gawping and start building. We don’t have long and no one here has time to help you.”
Feeling myself fuming, I look across and see that his own tent is almost up and just grit my teeth as I move to my case and flick the lock. I’ll show him who needs help, certainly not me!
Quickly, I remove the bag containing my tent and with a quick flick of the wrist, it’s up in less than two seconds. As the others look on in amazement, I secure the guy ropes with the shiny new tent pegs and thank god I bought the pop-up variety and look around with satisfaction. “Done.”
I suppress my laughter as Finn just stares in complete amazement and says, “What on earth is that?”
“My tent.”
“You call that a tent?”
“Actually, I do. It looks like a tent, was marketed as a tent and is a tent. Why, what’s wrong with it?”
He stares at my rather impressive piece of kit and shakes his head and Felicity exclaims loudly, “Wow, they’ll see you from space.”
Feeling rather happy at my choice, I look with pleasure at the flower designed red and white creation that sparkles like the finest jewel among the roughness of nature. It’s a designer’s dream and I congratulate myself on a bargain from the local Millets that was closing down. It surprised me to find they were selling it at 70% off because the salesman told me people weren’t interested in it. I was shocked because who wouldn’t be interested in owning this little piece of pleasure? I am quite looking forward to spending a cosy night inside with my polka dot sleeping bag and matching onesie. Yes, this camping trip is full of surprise because I never expected I’d get so much pleasure out of shopping for the basic necessities I needed.
While the others work away, I put the finishing touches to my new home and after placing my case inside and arranging my sleeping bag, I sit proudly in my little piece of heaven. Deciding it would be surly of me not to offer to help out, I take a quick picture of my new home and upload it to Instagram with the caption, #outdoorslifethedesignerway.
As I crawl from my tent, I see that Finn has managed to erect his tent and looks to be creating some sort of fire in the centre of the circle.
Wandering over, I say brightly, “Can I help?”
He doesn’t look up and says wearily, “I think I can manage to light a fire.”
He carries on and I sit beside him and look with interest. “You look as if you’ve done this before.”
“Obviously.”
His tone is cutting but I shrug it off. “So, what made you become a tour guide?”
He looks up in surprise and I notice how startling his eyes are. They are the lightest blue, and yet his hair is as dark as the night sky. He has a rough stubble on his jawline that looks incredibly sexy, and for some reason, I change my mind about him in an instant. He’s something else, and I owe it to my girlish fantasies to find a little more out about the man who appears to have been crafted from every dream I have ever had.
“Tour guide?”
He looks surprised and I shrug. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? I mean, we booked a night camping and you get to show us how it’s done. We need you to show us the way, so you’re our designated tour guide.”
Shaking his head, he says through gritted teeth. “Actually, my job title is expedition leader.”
I raise my eyes and he sits back on his heels and barks, “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why the face?”
“What face?”
“The one that’s making fun of me.”
“You’re a little sensitive, aren’t you?”
“Is that what you think?”
Shrugging, I lean back and say with amusement. “Well, let’s look at the facts. You are quick to judge a person based on what you see, rather than know. You form instant opinions and carry them with you without taking time to know the facts. Your way is apparently the only way, and you are not prepared to listen to any alternative. Then, when somebody tells you something you don’t like, you get all narky and throw it back at them as if they don’t know what they’re talking about. You see, Finn, out of the two of us, I would say you are the most sensitive because you appear to get rattled by everything I do, even though I haven’t actually asked you for anything. In fact, all I’ve done is tried to help and you just don’t want to admit that you’re wrong about me.”
Leaning forward, he whispers in that husky voice that should be illegal on a man, “Time will tell, darlin’. If you think I’m sensitive, then you are way off the mark. The reason I judge you is that city girls like you, think they know everything but actually know nothing. You turn up here with your material ways thinking everything’s a game. Well, survival is no game and if I left you here for just one night on your own, all the designer frills you’ve brought with you wouldn’t count for a thing because there’s a reason we do things this way and you’ll find that out the hard way.”
He pulls back and I say lightly, “See, I told you you’re sensitive. Well, toughen up buddy because I’m about to prove you wrong and I’ll look forward to rubbing your nose and your opinion about me in your face. Now, can I get you a cup of tea? I have mint tea if you prefer, or just bog-standard English breakfast.”
He looks at me in surprise as I nod towards my tent. “A rather nice little camping stove came with the ski boots; it was half price with any purchase over £50 so I kind of had to take up the offer. I think I’ve got enough water in my flask to heat up a few cups for everyone, and I have powdered milk and sachets of sugar if anyone takes them. Wait there, I’ll be right back.”
As I head off in search of the revitalising tea, I look forward to proving Finn wrong about me. I’m not stupid, I knew from the moment he laid eyes on me he dismissed me as some kind of city airhead who didn’t know what she was letting herself in for. The fact he’s right doesn’t count anymore be
cause now it’s my mission to prove him wrong.
♥13
Soon all the tents are standing proudly in the dusky light and we are all sitting on makeshift seats around a roaring campfire, courtesy of our fearless leader Finn. I took great delight in sharing my tea bags and I think everyone appreciated the gesture because I note they are less frosty with me than before. As I sit beside Felicity she says loudly, “Oh, carry on with what you said before, Lily.”
“What was that?”
I can tell everyone is listening and she says with excitement. “The letter your Aunt wrote to herself – you know, the bucket list. What did it say?”
Now all eyes are on me and I squirm a little and laugh nervously. “Oh, just random things, really.”
“Go on, I’d love to know.”
James interrupts and says sharply, “Don’t be so intrusive, Felicity. Lily might not want to relay the contents of this letter.”
I see Felicity’s face fall and rally to her side. “No, it’s fine, really.”
Addressing the group as a whole, I say loudly. “The reason I’m here is that my Aunt died last week.”
They all look uncomfortable and I say lightly, “It’s fine. Well, obviously it’s not fine but… um… well, the short story is, she wrote herself a letter when she was a young woman outlining her hopes and dreams for her life. When she died, she had achieved amazing things and certainly ticked off the things on the top of the list.”
“What were they?” Felicity looks excited and I smile. “Well, numbers 1-3 were success.” They look confused and I say sadly. “Yes, that was obviously the most important thing to her and to be honest, she knocked it out of the park. She was the most successful woman our family had ever known, and she was famous among the interior designer’s community. She had everything she ever dreamed of, such as an amazing house, beautiful clothes, jewellery and exotic holidays. She was living the dream but there were several things on her list that remained unticked.”