It Started With A Tweet(96)

Satisfied that she is, I pick up my suitcase and prepare for the long walk to the station. I’m halfway across the courtyard when I hear Alexis call out after me.

‘Wait, are you leaving now too?’

I snap my head round. The alcohol has worn off and, where last night it almost seemed comical what he’d done, now in the sober light of day I feel violated.

‘I am, but you’re not walking with me.’

‘Please, let me explain,’ he says, jogging to catch up with me.

I try to hurry away, only he’s nimble on his feet, thanks to his giant backpack, whereas I might as well be dragging an elephant behind me with the speed I’m going, and he soon catches up with me.

By the time I’ve made it to the dirt track, my case is flip-flopping all over the place and it’s nearly impossible to keep it vertical. Alexis goes to grab it out of my hand.

‘Please, let me.’

‘No,’ I snap. ‘You’ve done quite enough.’

He lets go and holds his hands up. ‘You know, I did not mean to –’

‘Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to hear it.’

He shuts up and the two of us walk along in silence. Or near silence, as I’m muttering every swear word in the book under my breath. I’m almost tempted to abandon my case right here on the track, when I hear the putt-putt-putt of an engine.

Oh great. Rosie’s come to find us – either that or it’s Jack. Neither of whom I want to see.

Luckily, as it passes and stops in front of us, I see that it’s Rodney in his pick-up truck.

‘Morning!’ he says. ‘Off somewhere, are we?’

‘To the station,’ I say. ‘Not together though.’

‘You want a lift? Obviously, the lift will have to be together,’ he says chuckling. ‘I’ve got Shep in the front. So you can either sit with him on your lap or you can sit in the trailer.

Sharing a vehicle with Alexis is the last thing I want to do, but I accept as it’s probably the only way I’ll make it to the train station before sunset with the speed I’m lugging my case at.

‘Yes, please,’ I say.

I struggle to lift up my case to put it in the back, and instinctively Alexis goes to help me, but I turn and block his efforts. By the time Rodney’s come to help me, my poor arm muscles are practically vibrating in spasm. I stomp round to the passenger door and try to move Shep over, but he’s having none of it. I sigh as I walk back round, as Rodney is closing the back flap.

‘I’ll get in here too,’ I say, sounding defeated.

Rodney rather enthusiastically gives me a hand up and I practically leap up as his hands make contact with my bum.

Before I know it, we’re bounding along the track, and I cling on to the side for dear life.

I’d half hoped to sneak off to London without anyone knowing I’d gone, but it seems that every man and his dog is out today. The mix of warm, dry weather and gossip from the barn dance means that there are enclaves of chatting villagers dotted along the route. I think only a carnival float with us on would have attracted more attention, not that that’s stopping Alexis. He’s waving regally like a carnival king as we pass. I try and sink lower in the trailer, but Liz and Gerry still spot me. They’ll no doubt be dining on this gossip all day in the shop. Although, with all the drama that unfolded last night, they’ll be spoilt for choice.

The only thing that makes it bearable is the thought that soon it won’t matter. I’m off today and I’m never going to see the village or these people again. Even if I make it up with Rosie, she’ll have finished with the renovations and be back in Manchester in a few weeks, and this little corner of Cumbria will be a distant memory.

The truck pulls up at the station and this time Alexis doesn’t even attempt to help me out, he knows the scolding look he’d get. Rodney holds his hand out for me to take as I scrabble down onto the ground.

‘I’m sorry to see you go, lass. Will you be back?’

I shake my head. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Shame. I know Jack’ll be sad.’

I laugh out loud. ‘I think he’ll be pretty glad to see the back of me.’

‘He’s not as tough as he looks, you know. Did you tell him you were going?’

I try not to think about the argument last night; I’ve replayed it enough times in my mind since it happened.

‘Yes, and said he couldn’t care less.’

Rodney nods. ‘Did he ever tell you about Catherine?’

‘No,’ I say, thinking that, in reality, I knew so little about him.

‘She was here in the village on holiday, not long after Jack moved up here, and they had a proper holiday romance. Or at least for her it was a holiday romance; he thought it was something more. When she left to go back to Devon where she was from, she ignored all his calls and texts. Eventually, when he went down to see her, as he was so worried that something had happened, he found out that she had a long-term boyfriend. She’d used Jack and it knocked him for six.’

It suddenly makes sense, why he was so upset about my tweets and about Erica’s postcard. He thought I was going to do the same thing.

‘Of course, that’s why he’s not fond of the tourists,’ he says, trying to laugh a little. ‘Anyway, your train will be in soon; you better go and get a ticket. You take care of yourself, OK?’