Page 12 of Summer at Harbour View House
‘I’m not sure they’re designed for that.’
Before she could stop Hannah, however, the younger girl had sat down on top of her nearest case, holding out her hands as though to drive an imaginary car.
‘Something like this,’ she said, laughing. ‘A new form of trans—’
With a hard crack, the front wheels on the suitcase snapped off, pitching Hannah forwards. She managed to gain her footing just in time to avoid a nasty face-plant on the road, but instead did a comical stagger-run that sent her barrelling into the nearest hedgerow. As she stopped herself against a wall of vegetation, she jumped backwards, crying out in pain.
‘Something bit me!’
‘It’s a stinging nettle,’ Natasha said, pointing at the offending plant, which was gently caressing Hannah’s leg where the fall had pushed her trousers up. Already a string of bumps had appeared on Hannah’s pearl-white skin.
‘Am I going to die?’
More than once today, Natasha had regretted inviting Hannah along on this trip, but there were times when she had to admit, the girl was good for a bit of light relief. She opened her mouth to reply in the negative, but instead found herself saying, ‘You might. In fact, the only way to prevent certain death is to stand on one leg with your arms outstretched, and moo like a cow.’
Hannah lifted one leg off the ground and started to lift her arms. Then with a sudden frown and a pout, she said, ‘Not funny.’
‘Sorry, but it really was. Look, just rub a doc leaf on it. That’ll take the sting away.’ She picked one out of the hedge and held it up.
‘And get green gunk all over my legs?’ Hannah said. ‘No chance.’
‘Just trust me.’
Hannah glared at her. ‘Screw this,’ she said, stamping a foot in the grass. ‘I’m going back to St. Austell. When’s the next bus?’
Natasha peered at a bus timetable sticking out of the hedge, almost completely covered by brambles.
‘Uh … Tuesday.’
‘Tuesday?’
‘We’re in the countryside now. I suppose you could walk, but its fifteen miles. It might be better just to take the two down to our house. Is the sting still hurting?’
Hannah looked down. ‘I’ll live,’ she said, glaring at Natasha.
‘You might,’ Natasha said, and caught a brief smile from Hannah before she turned away to aim a frustrated kick at the hedge.
In the end, they had to no choice but to try piling the cases up on top of each other, with the sturdiest at the bottom. Hannah looked mortified when Natasha suggested they hide a couple in the hedge to come back for later, so with great awkwardness, they began shifting their six cases down the bumpy, winding road, Natasha in front to stop them falling off, with Hannah behind, holding the handle of the largest to try to keep their speed steady.
‘I really hope there’s a pub down there somewhere,’ Natasha said, as the roof of a tractor appeared above the hedgerow a little way ahead, coming towards them. ‘Or at the very least, a bottle of wine in the fridge.’
‘I think I’d even settle for a wine without the spritzer,’ Hannah said, then suddenly let out a cry of pain and let go of the suitcase handle. ‘Oh, that hurts so much!’
Natasha braced herself against the bags, steering them to a stop against the hedge, which was steeper and thicker here, perhaps a stone wall buried by vegetation.
‘What happened?’
‘It’s these shoes. They’re cutting me up. I didn’t have time to break them in.’
She pulled one off and lifted it up, a glamorous heeled thing that looked appropriate for a ballroom but not much else. Then, in an act of such unexpected defiance that Natasha was let speechless, she tossed the offending shoe into the neighbouring field.
‘You can’t do that!’
‘Don’t worry, I have three more pairs. I need that orange case there. That’s the one the shoes are in.’
‘I meant you can’t go throwing shoes into fields. What if a cow eats it or something?’
‘Do cows eat shoes?’
