Page 55 of The Unlikely Pair
As the fire intensifies, Toby shrugs off the top of the survival blanket and sits on a log with it wrapped around his waist, staring into the dancing flames.
He looks like one of the Greek heroes Homer wrote about, his bare chest a sculpture of masculine beauty.
I try to avoid my gaze lingering on his body, but there’s a limit to the other places you can look in a Scandinavian forest clearing. So I find myself irresistibly drawn to observing the perfect lines of his body, the way his broad shoulders taper to his waist, the enticing smattering of hair on his chest.
I take in all of these details from the safety of my own log as the warmth emanating from the fire penetrates deep into my bones.
Toby turns his head and catches me looking.
I don’t know what he sees in my gaze, but it causes his eyes to widen.
Bloody hell.
“We should eat,” I say.
“Yes. Good idea.” Toby’s voice sounds rougher than usual.
He keeps one hand clutching the survival blanket around his waist as he leans down to rummage in the survival kit.
“We don’t have many energy bars left,” he says as he lobs one at me.
“We can worry about that tomorrow,” I say. “We’ll have to make some decisions about whether we stop to gather food or just press on to find habitation.”
“Unless we’re at the point of starving, my vote is definitely for habitation,” he says.
“I’m inclined to agree,” I reply.
“What happens if our vote is one apiece?” he asks.
“I guess we’ll solve that problem when we encounter it,” I say.
Toby turns over the energy bar in his hand, his face contemplative. “You know, I’ve been thinking since we’ve been out here that this is really how leadership came about, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean, this is how leadership came about?”
“Well, back in cavemen times, a group of people needed to survive, so they had to select leaders they trusted to make the right decisions to help find food and shelter and protect them from threats.”
He looks at me, his eyes bright. “And all politics stemmed from that basic concept, didn’t it? It’s easy to become distracted by all the lobbying and infighting and forget what our core mission is. Even though you and I disagree on the best way to do it, we’re both just trying to make the best decisions for the peopleof the United Kingdom. To help everyone find food and shelter and protect them from threats.”
I shift uncomfortably, my survival blanket crinkling underneath me.
I went into politics because it was expected of me, because it was my family legacy. I was determined to succeed where my grandfather and father had failed, to become the first Matheson prime minister.
Do I enjoy it? Yes, most of the time. I have skills that make me a good politician. I’m adept at thinking clearly and rationally on my feet. I can control my emotions.
“There’s this quote from an old antipodean politician,” Toby continues without waiting for me to respond. “It basically goes that all people need is someone to love, somewhere to live, somewhere to work, and something to hope for.”
“I think they forgot the key component of something to eat,” I say.
“Yes, I agree. We are definitely learning how essential having something to eat is,” he says with a smirk.
There’s a funny fluttering in my stomach.
To avoid examining it, I stand and move to the other side of the clearing, busying myself by making a shelter for Toby and me to spend the night. There’s a little hollow at the base of a tree, and I dig it out. I gather moss and dried pine needles to line it to provide insulation.
Toby and I will be in close proximity again. But there is no way to avoid that.
It’s cold away from the fire, even with the survival blanket wrapped around me. I check our clothes and find our trousers are now dry. I quickly pull them on myself with the most enthusiasm I’ve ever put on clothes.
