Michael and Emma had sat down next to each other at a large wooden picnic table. Carl sat opposite them.
‘You okay?’ asked Michael.
‘Does anyone want a can of coke?’ Carl said, deliberately ignoring his question. ‘There are some other cans inside if you’d prefer. I think I saw some bottled water…’
‘Are you okay?’ Michael asked again.
This time Carl didn’t answer. He just nodded, bit his lip and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He began to busy himself by opening the food he’d brought outside.
‘You look tired,’ Emma said gently, reaching out and giving Carl’s hand a quick and reassuring squeeze. ‘Maybe we should stay here tonight. I know it’s not ideal but…’
Her unexpected touch triggered a change in Carl. Suddenly, and without any warning, his defences seemed to crumble.
‘Either of you two got kids?’ he asked, his voice wavering and unsteady. Both Emma and Michael looked at each other momentarily and then shook their heads. ‘I did. I had a daughter. The most beautiful little girl you’ve ever seen. She’s got… I mean she had…’
‘Hurts, doesn’t it?’ Emma said, sensing Carl’s pain and sympathising (but not fully understanding) his obvious agony. ‘My sister had two boys. Great lads, I saw them a couple of weeks ago and now…’
‘Christ,’ he continued, not listening to a word she’d said, ‘they do something to you, kids. When we found out we we’re expecting Gemma we were gutted – I mean absolutely fucking devastated. Sarah didn’t talk to me for days and… and…’
‘And what?’ Michael pressed gently.
‘And then she was born and everything changed. I tell you, mate, you can’t understand what it’s like until you’ve been there yourself. I watched that little girl being born and that was it. You never really know what life’s all about until you’ve been there. And now she’s gone… I can’t fucking believe it. I feel so fucking empty and I just want to go back home and see her. I know she’s gone but I want to see her again and just…’
‘Shh…’ Emma whispered. She tried desperately to think of something to say but instead settled on silence. She didn’t fully appreciate the extent of Carl’s pain, but she knew that nothing she could do or say would make him feel better.
‘I’m fucking starving I am,’ he sobbed, forcing the conversation to change direction. He grabbed a packet of biscuits and tore them open. A gust of wind picked up the empty cellophane wrapper and whisked it away.
As they ate Michael watched Carl sadly. He had always done his best to keep himself to himself and had often taken criticism from others for being so antisocial and insular in the past. Today though, watching his friend being torn apart with grief, he was strangely thankful that he had spent so much time alone and that he was not having to mourn a similar loss. True, he sometimes craved companionship (increasingly frequently as he’d got older), but Carl was obviously suffering with such excruciating pain that he found himself questioning the benefits of ever having been a family man. A like-minded friend had once said to him that they would never marry for that same reason. His friend had argued that after spending and sharing their adult life with one partner, the pain of any loss would have been too much to take and would have destroyed the memory of the years spent together. Watching Carl today, however, Michael thought how wrong his friend had been. Having a partner and a child seemed to have made Carl complete. True the pain was destroying him now, but would it have been any easier to have never experienced the love, memories and fond attachment that his family had obviously brought to him? Which was better, to be unfulfilled and never feel such attachments or to be complete for a while and then be torn apart with the agony of loss?
The further away from home and familiarity that Michael got, the more emotional and less self-assured he became.
The survivors sat and ate in virtual silence for half an hour. From where they were sitting they could see down along the side of the cafe. They could also see their well loaded van, and the thought of getting back behind the wheel and driving aimlessly again depressed each one of them. They knew that they had little option but to continue on their way but for a while the fresh air and open space was a refreshing change from the uncomfortable and musty confinement they had endured throughout the last week.
As was often the case, Emma was the first to disturb the silence.
‘How are you two feeling?’ she asked.
Neither man responded. Michael was deep in thought, playing with a broken can ring, and Carl was neatly folding an empty crisp packet. Both men waited for the other to answer.
‘Do you still think we’ve done the right thing?’
Michael looked up at her with a puzzled expression on his face.
‘Of course we have. Why, are you having doubts?’
‘Not at all,’ she answered quickly. ‘It’s just that we’re sat out here and we don’t seem to be making much progress. It’ll be getting dark soon and…’
‘Look, if push comes to shove we can sleep in the van,’ Michael sighed. ‘It won’t be a problem. I know it won’t be comfortable but…’
‘I’m not worried,’ she snapped, interrupting to justify her comments. ‘I just think we should be on our way soon. The sooner we find somewhere to stop, the sooner we can get ourselves settled and sorted out.’
‘I know, I know,’ Michael mumbled, getting up from his seat and stretching. ‘We’ll get moving in a little while.’
With that he began to wander back down the side of the cafe towards the van. Emma stared after him. She found him a very strange man – equally inspiring and irritating. Most of the time he seemed cool, collected and level-headed, but there were occasions (like now) when he didn’t seem to give a damn and his apathy was infuriating. Not for the first time in the last week their safety was on the line but Michael didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered. She assumed it was because they hadn’t yet found anywhere obvious to stop. If things weren’t going Michael’s way, she had noticed, he didn’t want to know.
‘You okay?’ she asked Carl. He nodded and smiled. ‘Arrogant sod, isn’t he?’
Michael stopped walking when he reached the edge of the road in front of the cafe. He looked out across a lush green valley landscape and drew in several long, slow breaths of cool, refreshing air. He slowly scanned the horizon from left to right and then stopped and turned around with a broad grin plastered across his tired face. He beckoned the others to come over to where he stood. Intrigued and concerned in equal measures, Carl and Emma quickly jumped up.
‘What’s the matter?’ Carl asked, his heart beating anxiously in his chest.
‘Over there,’ he replied, pointing out into the distance. ‘Just look at that. It’s bloody perfect!’
‘What is?’ mumbled Emma as she struggled to see what it was that he had found.
‘Can’t you see it?’ he babbled excitedly.
‘See what?’ Carl snapped.
Michael moved around so that he was standing between the other two. He lifted his arm and pointed right across the valley.
‘See that clearing over there?’
After a couple of seconds Emma spotted it.
‘I see it,’ she said.
‘Now look slightly to the right.’
She did as instructed.
‘All I can see is a house,’ she said, dejectedly.
‘Exactly. It’s perfect.’
‘So you found a house in the woods,’ sighed Carl. ‘Is that all? Bloody hell, we’ve passed a thousand houses already today. What’s so special about this one?’
‘Well you two had trouble seeing it, didn’t you?’
‘So?’
‘So what does that tell you? What does the location of a house like that tell you?’
Emma and Carl looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders, sure that they were missing the point (if there was a point to be missed).