Page 33 of Short Stack 3

I stare at him. “Really? This holiday is sounding positively scandalous. But I thought we didn’t do that.”

He rolls his eyes. “Not a casual sexual encounter. No, it’s a lead that we plug into something and—” He gestures like a magician looking for his rabbit. “Poof! We will have electricity and light.”

“Oh well, we’d better definitely have that. I need to charge my phone so I can look at the best places to hitch back to London.”

He snorts. “You are no help at all, Henry.”

“Ivo, the closest I’ve come to this sort of situation was readingFive Go Off to Camp. I don’t think Enid Blyton prepared me properly for camping.”

“Did she mention hook-up lines?”

“No, but they were usually too busy solving some mystery or other caused by strange scientists.”

“I hope we’re not called on for mystery solving this weekend. Those jeans of yours are far too tight for you to carry your notebook and pencil to note down the clues.”

“Did you mean that to sound as lecherous as it did?”

“Yes.”

“I think we’d have got on well with the Famous Five,” I say contemplatively. “Their guardians showed a flagrant disregard for parental norms too. Letting them trot off around the British countryside on their own, prey to all the criminals hiding behind bushes.”

“Ah, but did they have to lie under a bed while my mother and your father shagged?”

“Ivo, you’re far too competitive.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“No,” I say. “I don’t think that cropped up between foiling foreigners’ dastardly plans and eating tomatoes and drinking ginger beer.”

“Excuse me, are you looking for the hook-up?”

Our eyes meet for a delicious second of laughter, and then we turn to find an old man looking kindly at us.

“Yes, we are,” Ivo says quickly. “I’d be eternally grateful if you’d point the way.”

“Ah, first time?”

“And last,” I offer sweetly, but they’ve vanished around the van, talking loudly about points and other things I don’t care to understand.

I open the van door and look inside. Our overnight bags sit neatly on one side. Ivo had made noises about sharing one bag but had subsided at the look on my face. I suppose I could unpack. I open a few little doors and find what I presume is the wardrobe cupboard. It’s the size of a coat rack, so I shut the door and look for something else to do.

When Ivo comes back, I’m sitting in one of the camp chairs I’d retrieved from the van and tilting my face to the sun.

“Working on your tan?” he says.

“Well, my freckles. At this stage of the summer, they’ve all joined up, so I look tanned. Did you get it done?”

He nods. “It’s quite simple, really. What are you drinking?”

I hold up my glass. “Gin and tonic. I made you one.”

“Did you unpack?”

“I thought about it.”

His lip twitches. “And?”

“Then I saw the size of the closet, so I made us drinks instead. If we have enough of them, I can ignore creased clothes.”

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