‘Really? Who would recognise us?’
‘Any of the workers who come to our Perimeter. Some of the guards’ families live here too. Anybody really. That’s why I didn’t want to come here in the first place, but I do understand why you wanted to. I just think we’re lucky no one’s spotted us yet. I don’t want to push it.’
‘Okay.’
‘And I don’t want to waste too much time. It doesn’t get dark till about half seven, eight. I think we should just go now. Once we get on the road we’ll be able to pick up some proper speed.
We eat a quick lunchtime snack in the AV and then head out of the compound and onwards to find the road.
Luc was right about picking up speed once we hit the Wessex Way. It feels like we’re flying. The speedo now reads an impressive thirty five miles per hour, a vast improvement on the measly five to ten we had gotten used to on the rough ground.
The Wessex Way is a dual carriageway that at one time was divided along its length by metal crash barriers. These have long since been removed and now the central reservation is choked with weeds, bushes and trees, so you can’t see the other side of the road. This suits us fine as we’re not keen to meet any other vehicles anyway. We pass nobody and, about three quarters of an hour later, we come to a huge roundabout.
Luc brakes as we get closer and it’s a good thing he does, as three large army trucks rumble straight across our path and away, to our right. They don’t stop to give way to us or to check us out, thank goodness.
‘They’re heading towards Ringwood,’ Luc says. ‘We’re going to be driving in that direction for a while, until we turn off north to Salisbury.’
‘Shall we wait a bit, so they get a good head start?’ I ask. ‘I don’t like the idea of driving right behind them.’
‘Definitely. It’s only four and it shouldn’t take us more than an hour to get clear of Ringwood.’
‘Good,’ I reply.
‘I’m going to close my eyes for ten minutes.’ He yawns and stretches. ‘Keep a look out, Riley and wake me if you see anything.’
He parks up on the grass verge and switches off the engine. My mind wanders over all we’ve seen this morning and I ponder the sheltered existence I’ve led.
I try to imagine what Skye would have made of it all, sure she would have felt a lot braver than me in the same situation. She was always up for anything. I’m overcome with the familiar wash of sadness that she’ll never have the opportunity to experience anything like this. I want to tell her all about it and see the look on her face as I describe the Charminster Compound, the horseman, everything.
I look at Luc’s sleeping face and revel in the fact that here I am, alone with him. His face is so familiar. I’ve known him all my life, but he’s different to me now. It’s a luxury – being able to really stare at him without having to pretend not to.
I suddenly worry in case I’ve missed something on the road, or that he might wake to find me drooling over him. That would be too mortifying to contemplate, so I quickly look away and stare out of the windscreen. Nothing stirs in the hot afternoon and the AV is already starting to feel warm without the air con. I reach into my bag and take out some bottled water. I sip it slowly.
Luc starts the engine, interrupting my thoughts.
‘Good sleep?’ I ask.
‘Mmm, a power nap,’ he says, stretching his hand out in front of him like Superman.
‘I can’t sleep in the daytime, it makes me moody.’
‘Really? I feel great now. I so needed that snooze.’
We cruise around the roundabout and take the last exit, the same one the soldiers’ trucks took. We’re heading towards Ringwood now and I’m keeping my fingers tightly crossed that we don’t encounter any trouble from the riots. The reality of our vulnerability is starting to sink in.
Chapter Thirteen
The next two weeks were life-altering for me. Connor and I stole every spare moment we could. My family wouldn’t have shown him such generous hospitality if they had known exactly how we were spending our time together. We couldn’t get enough of each other. While my parents and brothers were out working, we went off in Connor’s camper van and, as soon as we found a quiet place to park, we would close the curtains. There, in the illicit gloom, our minds and bodies became the source of endless fascination.
‘Ellie, you’re amazing.’ He kissed my arm, soft butterfly kisses that sent me half-mad and he wasn’t afraid to look right into my eyes, unnerving me with his candour. I savoured every single word and every single kiss, memorising it all and storing it away to dissect and revel in later.
He pushed me gently down onto the converted bed. ‘I feel like this is my real home – here with you,’ he said with a half-smile. ‘I know it sounds cheesy, but… it’s how I feel.’
‘I know,’ I whispered, looking up at him. ‘I just wish we could stay here and forget everyone else. I never want to have to go home.’
‘So let’s pretend there’s no outside. This is all there is.’ He leant over me so his dark fringe fell into his eyes. He lowered himself down and kissed me until I didn’t even know who I was anymore.
The time we spent in each other’s company flew past in a momentary flash of brilliant light, but the hours we were apart plodded by like so many centuries of darkness. I lost my appetite for food, but felt like I could live on the love-infused air I gulped down.
Abi couldn’t understand any of it, and I felt bad for neglecting her so much. I didn’t want to be one of those people who dropped their friends as soon as they got a boyfriend, but I couldn’t help it. These feelings were outside my control – a need that made everything and everyone else unimportant.
Even after all this time, I still felt unimaginably nervous in his company. I was always trying to impress him with witty sarcasm, trying to be cooler than I was. I couldn’t understand his interest in me. I imagined his type of girlfriend to be an edgy blonde with tattoos and piercings or a svelte raven-haired indie chick. I was a boring middle class brunette to whom nothing exciting ever happened. But he seemed to want to be with me and I couldn’t believe it.
One warm evening, we sat together on the top of Smallpox Hill amongst the heather and rabbit holes, gazing out across the sun-faded countryside.
‘I like it here,’ Connor said. ‘It’s peaceful. But I miss Ripon.’
‘Is that where you’re from?’
‘Yeah.’
I wanted to ask him how long he would be staying down here, but I didn’t want him to think I was being clingy or needy.
‘When was the last time you went home?’ I asked instead. ‘And where is Ripon, anyway? I know it’s up north somewhere…’
‘Ripon’s in North Yorkshire, but I don’t go home. Not anymore.’ His mouth hardened into a thin line and he started tearing small clumps of grass out of the ground.
‘Don’t you get on with your parents then?’
‘My mum’s great. It’s my dad…’
‘Oh. Sorry.’
‘Yeah, well. I like my life now. I just work wherever. And I’m lucky I’ve got my bus. My grandad left it to me in his Will.’
‘What happened with your dad? Tell me to shut up and mind my own business if you like.’
‘Nah, you’re alright. We never got on. I was never good enough for him. All I ever felt when I was at home, was pressure. Like I was gonna suffocate.’ He sent a clod of earth spinning down the hillside and put his hands up in front of his face. I heard him grit his teeth in anger. ‘I knew nothing I did would ever make him happy, apart from maybe being a brain surgeon or winning the Nobel Peace Prize or something. So I just thought it would be easier if I did a runner.’