Page 60 of Wild About You

‘It’s alright.’ I felt his hand on my wrist, holding it. ‘Climb out this way, if you’re uncomfortable.’

I decided to throw dignity to the wind and scrambled over the seats and gear stick. He stood waiting for me. As I stood, dithering about jumping out, he put his hands to my waist and lifted me down so quickly and easily I didn’t have time to think about it, other than how absurdly comforted I felt by his closeness. ‘Okay?’ he said, as I stood staring at him in the howling wind and rain.

‘Fine,’ I managed.

‘Don’t worry. There’s a bothy a little way from here.’

‘A bothy?’ I echoed him stupidly.

He was opening the back of the Land Rover and pulling out its emergency kit bag. ‘Here, you can carry the axe.’

‘That sentence has never been said to me in my life,’ I said, but received it and followed as he strode into the woods.

The forest didn’t seem a great place to be in the middle of a storm so I hurried to keep up with him. The rain dashed into my face and branches swung violently. Everything felt muffled, and the air smelt clear and pure, but electric. Jamie loped ahead with his bloody tallness and long legs. I concentrated on not tripping over. Being clumsy whilst carrying an axe wasn’t a great idea.

We emerged from the strip of woodland and came to a small patch of land surrounded by grey stone walls on three sides. The bothy was built of stone, and had a corrugated iron roof. Its green front door shone out, calling us in from the storm.

‘Drovers would have stopped here way back when,’ called Jamie to me. I followed him through the unlocked green door.

Never have I been more glad to be inside. As soon as he shut the door, I felt relief burst over me, and a telltale throb of a headache. The rain drummed madly on the tin roof. Jamie tried the walkie talkie but it released nothing but a burst of static.

‘I thought it was meant to be long range,’ I said. He shrugged and shook his head.

It was just one room: bare stone walls, the woodburner inthe fireplace on one side, a small stack of wood on the other. He was already on his knees, unpacking the kit bag. ‘Anyone who stops here has to restock the wood before leaving,’ he explained. ‘I’m going to build a fire. We need to dry off.’

‘Is there anything I can do?’ I said.

‘Check the bars on your phone near the window,’ he said, taking his phone out and looking at it. ‘Mine hasn’t got any reception.’

I checked mine too – nothing.

‘I’ll send a text. Then if I do get any reception, it’ll go,’ I said.

He nodded, removing some chipped logs from the small store near the far window. ‘Yes please. Send it to Callum and to Fi, tell them we had an issue and that we’re at the Dalawick bothy. If conditions improve and it’s still daylight, we’ll hike down.’

Hike?I thought but didn’t say. ‘And what if they don’t?’ I asked.

He paused in the midst of fire preparation. ‘If they don’t, we’ll stay the night.’ He looked at me. ‘And if you could take the look of horror off your face, that would be helpful.’

I opened my mouth to say it wasn’t quite horror that I was feeling, then closed it again. In fact, I was horrified, but only because the idea of spending the whole night with Jamie, on my own, had unlocked a cacophony of feelings in me which I didn’t want to look at too closely.

Jamie continued his prep. ‘There’s no sign of it stopping out there,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to put us at risk – or anyoneelse, trying to get us. We’ll be fine. You might remember, every kit has chocolate,’ he waved a family-sized bar at me, ‘and…’ He went over to the far corner and wobbled a section of floorboard with his foot, before lifting it with his hands. It was a big bottle – he cradled it tenderly. ‘We have whisky. Single malt. The Macallan. Good stuff.’ He gave me the slightest of smiles, almost as though he was smiling against his will. ‘Truce, Anna?’ he said. ‘I’ll try not to get on your nerves this evening.’

‘You don’t get on my nerves,’ I said, in a hollow voice. But he did. I was swiftly coming to the realisation that he got on every nerve, but not in the way he thought.

He returned to the fire box, lit a bit of paper with a match from a box in his bag, and the fire gradually began to take. Then he took out a fluffy tartan blanket. ‘Take your wet gear off,’ he said, then at the look on my face, ‘yourouterclothes. I’m assuming your coat protected you from the worst. Wrap up in this, get near the fire. I’m going to get some water from the brook.’

I did as I was told. As I sat watching the flames, I hugged myself and tried to still the thoughts that were racing across my mind.

I do not want him, I told myself.I do not want Jamie. The storm had shaken me up and I’d temporarily taken leave of my senses, that was all.

He came back with a jerry can of water. ‘My grandfather used to bring me up here,’ he said, offering me water with a dash of the whisky and a few squares of chocolate. ‘He’sthe one who started the tradition of leaving a good whisky here. You never know, you might enjoy this – it’s just like camping.’

‘Nooo.’ I was sucking the chocolate as unobtrusively as I could. ‘I hate camping.’

He laughed and I blinked at the unexpectedness richness of the sound. ‘I forgot, you’re a city girl. Warmer?’

I nodded. I wished Hugo was here – he would have given us something to focus on. After five minutes of sitting watching the flames, I couldn’t ignore something. ‘Jamie,’ I said. ‘Is there a loo?’

---