Page 77 of Meet me at the Seaside Cottages

‘No,’ she mutters.

‘You never think about anything or anyone, do you? Spent enough time making Mum’s life a misery.’

‘Oi,’ says Dwight, wandering over with his cowboy stroll, gun casually tucked across his shoulders in a way the ghillie had already expressly forbidden at the safety briefing. ‘Leave off her, alright?’

‘I’m talking to my sister.’

Dwight takes his stupid toothpick out of his mouth. ‘Not like that, you ain’t,’ he says.

Essie looks up, astounded. Tris bursts out laughing in a highly stylised sarcastic fashion. Connor blinks. It would never, Essie thinks, occur to him in a million years to stand up for her like that.

Al takes a deep breath and simmers down. It’s not like him to fly off the handle; he just spends so long defending his job.

‘Okay. You’re right. Sorry, sis. I mean, you’re still a moron.’

Dwight nods as if he’s the sheriff keeping the peace.

‘S’okay,’ mutters Essie.‘Don’t tell Mum.’

‘I won’t.’

‘You will.’

‘I will.’

They are all standing around the forest glade.

‘Do you know what: I think I’ll just head down,’ says Essie.

The ghillie ignores her, indicating another group of deer cropping young tree shoots by the side of a clearing.The boys stealthily move off.

Essie retraces her steps, down across the lichen-covered logs, the uprooted trees, the tangles of daisies and budding nettles, as furious as she has ever been. Doesn’t fit in in the city, doesn’t fit in here. She is angry about everything. She comes face to face with a fawn at the bottom of the tree line, who stares her in the eyes, then immediately bucks off at an incredible rate. ‘You’re welcome!’ she shouts after it.

Halfway down the green hill, heading back to the car – Al can drop off his new best friends, she is thinking crossly – shehears footsteps and turns round, half-expecting another bollocking from Al. To her genuine surprise, it’s Connor. He smiles awkwardly.

‘Hey,’ he says.

‘Yes?’ she says.

He looks at her. ‘I’m using you as my excuse,’ he says, reaching out and taking her hand. His gun is gone, she notices; he must have handed it back to the ghillie. ‘I don’t have the stomach for it either. They’re so beautiful.’

‘So you had to say you were going to look after your girlfriend?’

‘Is that okay?’

She beams.‘It is. Did they not rag you something awful?’

‘They can do it later.’

And she joins her hand to hers, even as they hear gunshots. Connor winces.

‘I am a terrible coward,’ he says.

‘Good,’ she says.

30

They creep in later, after a perfectly pleasant, if rather vanilla, afternoon in the lovely country house with its freestanding bath in the black and white tiled bathroom, warming up after the chill of the forest. Essie had nearly fallen asleep, before being reminded that the lads would be back by now and they should all head out to meet them in town for a meal.She does, though, go through every nook and cranny of the nice hotel, looking for ideas: striped wallpaper she likes, but isn’t sure whether it will make the tiny cottages even smaller; the automatic bathroom light in the en-suite she wants right away; and she wonders if she could get tiny coil versions made of the pretty chandeliers. It is amazing how much time she spends thinking about the project. She wants to text Dwight with the photos but contents herself with taking pictures, as she doesn’t want it to get weird. They can discuss it when she’s back tomorrow.

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