Ryan stopped kissing me. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m just a little tense. It’s really hard for me to relax knowing that she’s so close.’
‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ he said. ‘She’s probably tucked up fast asleep in her bed. You want a back rub?’
I rolled away from him and he ran his fingers down the length of my back, making all the nerve endings tingle. He began kneading the muscles either side of my spine, starting in the small of my back and slowly working up towards my shoulders. My eyelids fluttered closed. Within minutes, I was lulled into sleepy forgetfulness. Just as I was tumbling over the dark abyss, about to leave the world behind, I felt Ryan roll away from me. The covers slipped over my body as he reached towards the door. I rolled over to face him just as he lay back down again.
In his right hand, he was gripping the poker.
Chapter 4
As soon as I set foot back on the mainland, I began to breathe more easily. Lauren’s presence – however random – had transformed the islands from a subtropical paradise into a trap. The feeling of relief was short-lived.
‘She knows where I live,’ I said, as Ryan unlocked the car.
‘You’re not going home.’
The Scillonion hadn’t sailed until late in the afternoon; it was now early evening. We would need to eat soon and find somewhere to sleep.
‘So . . . are we going to the farmhouse?’ I asked.
‘Just to pick up some cash. We have to stay away from anywhere she could trace us to. We’re not taking any chances.’ He reversed out of the parking space and pulled on to the main road.
‘Where will we stay?’
‘Another B&B. Just till we’re sure she’s gone.’
The further we were from the dock, the better I felt. I leant back against the headrest and shut my eyes. I was tired. Maybe tonight I would sleep better.
‘You OK?’ Ryan asked.
I looked at him. His T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the sun lighting the top of his head with golden streaks, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in the beginning of a smile. How had I got so lucky?
‘You know, when you were back in the future,’ I began, not sure how to phrase this question without sounding insecure or jealous, ‘I mean, you were there a long time.’
‘Nine months.’
‘Did you ever feel like giving up on coming back to 2012?’
‘Never.’
‘Did you ever wonder, though, if it might not be possible? If you might just have to let it go?’
He glanced at me. ‘The thought never crossed my mind. I knew I’d find a way. Nine months felt like for ever, but I’d have kept on trying if it had been nine years or fifty-nine years. I wasn’t going to let you die like that.’
‘But when you were there, you must have had a life as well. You must have gone to school and had a social life and things like that.’
‘School wasn’t so great. I got kicked out.’
‘How come?’
‘Long story. I was on this elite program for pilots. It was intense. I was too distracted.’
‘So what did you do?’
Ryan shrugged. ‘I got a job in the shipyards with my friend, Pegasus.’
‘What about your spare time? You must have gone out with friends.’
‘I went out to a bar sometimes, but I spent most of my spare time trying to find a way back here. To you.’
He pulled off the main road and into the supermarket car park.
‘So you didn’t have a girlfriend then?’
He yanked the handbrake up and looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I was just wondering,’ I said, unlocking my seatbelt.
He pulled the key out of the ignition and twirled the key ring round his finger. ‘There hasn’t been anyone else since I met you.’
‘And before you met me?’
He shrugged. ‘Well, yeah. There was this one girl before I met you.’
I wanted to ask him for details. Name, age, pictures. But I couldn’t bring myself to. Not here in the bright light of a supermarket car park, while shopping trolleys rattled and clanged outside the car.
‘You’re not jealous, are you?’ The shadow of a smile flitted across his face. ‘You’ve no reason to be. She hasn’t even been born yet.’
‘I’m not jealous,’ I said.
He opened the driver’s side door. ‘Come on.’
We walked across the car park in silence for a moment.
‘So, this girl. Did you . . . you know . . .’ The words stuck in my throat. I coughed.
‘Are you asking me if I . . . ?’ He smirked, but there was a noticeable flush across his cheek.
I nodded.
He stared at the ground as we walked. ‘Yeah,’ he said.
‘And you didn’t hook up with her again when you got back to your own time?’
We were at the trolley park by now, Ryan pulling a trolley out of its stubborn embrace with the one in front of it.
‘Of course not. The only person I had any interest in hooking up with had been dead for over a century.’
He blushed even more deeply when he noticed the middle-aged woman, who’d clearly heard every word, waiting patiently behind us.
‘That must have sounded weird,’ he whispered as we pushed the trolley towards the store.
‘Not to mention creepy.’
He paused just before the entrance. ‘Is there anything else you want to ask me?’
I felt hot. I could feel my face burning. ‘Why are we here?’
‘Is that an existential question?’
‘A practical one.’
‘To buy food. If we’re going to lie low until Lauren leaves, we’re going to need supplies.’
We took a trolley and made our way up and down the aisles, grabbing food off the shelves and dodging the slow, got-all-the-time-in-the-world tourists.
‘If I was going on holiday, I would never go self-catering,’ said Ryan. ‘How is it a holiday if you have to go supermarket shopping and cook your own meals?’
‘Not everyone has a limitless supply of money, Ryan,’ I said, smacking him lightly across the head with a baguette. ‘Something you’d better get used to if you’re going to be living on the wages of a flower picker.’
‘Don’t remind me,’ he said. ‘That’s going to be so dull. I’m going to need to sort out some fake ID and some qualifications as soon as I can.’
‘And how do you think you’re going to find somewhere to buy fake documents? The internet?’
‘’Course not. I’ve already found my source. This guy near Truro. I just need to go and make the arrangements.’
‘Won’t that be expensive?’ I said, hesitating over a packet of chocolate Hobnobs. How much money did not much money mean? Was Ryan down to his last fifty quid, or down to his last fifty thousand? ‘Should we get biscuits?’
‘Sure,’ he said, putting them in the trolley. ‘I have more money back in the farmhouse.’
We pushed the trolley to the checkout. ‘When are you planning to do this?’
‘Soon,’ he whispered. ‘I need ID that can last a lifetime so it has to be good.’
My phone rang. My friend, Amy. I hadn’t spoken to her in days.
‘Hi, Amy,’ I said.
Ryan began stacking the groceries on the conveyor belt.
‘Where have you been hiding yourself?’ she asked me.
‘Just hanging out at home.’
‘Sounds boring. Anyway, everyone’s going to the beach tomorrow. Can you come?’
Obviously I couldn’t. But the thought of doing something normal like hanging out at the beach with all my friends sounded so appealing.