Page 33 of Not in a Million Years

‘Ready?’ he asked.

‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

We set off along the path that led to the beach. At first it was smooth and paved, leading through the manicured hotel gardens past lemon trees laden with fruit, golden on the side where the sun rose, still green on the other. There were olive trees too, gnarled and twisted, crowned with silvery-green leaves.

After a few minutes, the path divided. To our right, it continued smoothly towards the beach; to our left a gravel track led upwards into the hills. Almost at once, the manicured gardens gave way to a more rustic environment: chickens scratched and pecked in a wooden enclosure, birds sang in the trees overhead, the ground turned uneven beneath our feet.

Even in the shade of the tall sycamore trees that lined the path, the air was hot. The path led upwards, gently at first and then more steeply. Stones slid beneath the soles of my trainers. Ahead of me, Daniel’s long brown legs powered easily forward. I could feel sweat snaking down my back and into my eyes, which stung as the sunblock melted off my face.

Daniel turned to me, his phone in his hand. ‘Reckon we’ve come about a kilometre so far. Four or so to go.’

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Come on, Kate. Woman up. It’s just a walk.

But the sleepless night, the pain of my sunburn and my ever-present worry about Andy made it seem more arduous than that. I felt almost disembodied, as if my legs were moving against my will, my feet treading where Daniel’s did, my eyes focused on the ground in front of me, only occasionally looking up to see the strong V of his back, the lean lines of his glutes and thighs.

I could feel sweat stinging yesterday’s blisters. Pressure that had been building behind my eyes threatened to turn into a proper headache, becoming more intense with every beat of my heart. As the path grew steeper, I could hear my breath moving harshly in my throat.

‘You all right back there, Kate?’ Daniel asked.

‘Of course I am. It’s just a hill – not exactly Mount Kilimanjaro.’

‘Even so, we should have thought to bring water.’

I could see sweat darkening the back of Daniel’s grey T-shirt and noticed how it clung to his muscular shoulders. After we get to the top, I promised myself, I’ll never have to look at his annoying, smug back ever again.

Daniel came to another branch in the path and paused, taking out his phone again. I panted the last few metres to catch up with him. He was standing by a rustic wooden sign, three narrow boards fixed to its central post.

One pointed back the way we’d come, and onto the wood was burned the word ‘Beach’, followed by what I assumed was its translation in Turkish. To the left, ‘Wild Maple Eco Resort’ and a logo depicting a five-lobed leaf within a circle.

‘That’s where we’re headed, right?’ I panted.

‘Yes, but…’ Daniel pointed to the third sign. ‘How can we not investigate that?’

The sign said: ‘Cat feeding station’.

‘Daniel, for God’s sake! You don’t know what it even is, or how far away it is.’

‘Pretty clear, isn’t it? It’s where people feed cats.’

‘If it’s so clear then why do you need to go and look at it?’

‘Because it’ll be interesting. Come on, Kate.’

I glared at him mutinously for a second. We’d already been walking for almost an hour. If we followed the sign to our destination, we’d be there in the next fifteen minutes or so, and hopefully find Andy or at least news of him. But here was Daniel demanding we head off on some wild goose chase to look at a place where people fed cats, where there probably wouldn’t even be any bloody cats because if they had an ounce of sense in their furry heads, they’d be having a nice sleep in the shade somewhere.

Then I saw the smile on his face. It was a simple, almost boyish look of pleased excitement at discovering something that might prove interesting, at exploring a new place and seeing something he hadn’t expected to find. It was guileless and curious and oddly endearing.

‘I didn’t realise I was here with a bloody Boy Scout,’ I said. ‘All right, if you insist.’

Fired by enthusiasm, Daniel struck out along the path, walking even faster than before. This path was narrower than the previous one – and steeper. There were large rocks underfoot and the ground was covered in slippery pine needles. Gritting my teeth, I plodded on after him, with little hope of keeping pace.

After ten minutes or so, he’d disappeared around a bend in the path. Cursing silently, my eyes still fixed on the treacherous ground, I kept going – then rounded a corner myself and collided with his stationary back, sending him staggering forward and me staggering backward.

‘Shit! I’m sorry about that.’

He turned and steadied me, his hands strong and firm on my shoulders. Up close, I could feel the heat coming off his body and smell lemon shampoo and hot man.

‘Are you okay? Talk about an irresistible force meeting an immobile object.’

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