Laura's Big Break (4 page)

“I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now saddle up. We leave in ten minutes.”

Charlie sauntered off in the direction of the office leaving Laura wondering what she would do to get even. Her thoughts didn’t linger long. One look at her tent reminded her she had bigger problems. How was she supposed to get it all back into the tiny little bag it came out of?

With a sigh she reached to pull up the peg nearest her.

The next two days were spent enduring an uneasy truce. Charlie was true to his word and stayed within hailing distance. He helped her to put her tent up at the campsites and then he slapped on a clean t-shirt, saluted her and disappeared into the nearest bar. That was the last she saw of him until the following day, although she heard him come back in the small hours of the morning. Thankfully, alone. The last thing she needed was to listen to Charlie and his latest bimbo getting hot and heavy in his tiny tent. She gritted her teeth. This had to stop. It was a mind numbing endurance test and she’d reached her limit. All day long her attempts at conversation were met with grunts, which did nothing to take her mind off her backside. Then she spent her evenings alone. It sucked. It had to change. She was going to make it change.

While Charlie was in the shower, Laura scanned the campsite for help. Her eyes found the two English boys she’d seen at the first camping ground. She put on her most trustworthy smile, tried not to look mental and went to say hello.

“Hi there,” she called as she approached.

“Hey, it’s you. Airbed girl.”

They seemed pleased to see her. They also seemed not to have showered since they last met. She took a step backwards.

“How’s the holiday going?” one of them asked.

Laura cast a glance towards the shower block. There was no time for chit chat.

“I need a favour, boys,” she said.

They actually leered at each other. Yeah, like that was going to happen.

“Which one of you can sabotage a bike?”

Blank looks.

“I need help to break a bike.”

“Your bike?” They pointed towards it in case she was confused.

Laura gritted her teeth and reminded herself to be patient.

“No, not my bike. My friend’s bike. I need it to be out of action.” She let out a heavy breath. “I need a day where I don’t cycle.”

“Got ya.” One of them winked at the other.

“Sore lady parts huh?” the other one said.

Laura’s jaw dropped open.

“Listen, dumb and dumber, I need help. Now who’s up for it?”

“I’ll do it,” said the floppy one.

“Good, now get a move on, he’ll be out of the shower any minute.”

The floppy guy picked up a small bag and followed her back to the tent. The bag contained a tiny tool kit.

“I’m going to mess with the gears and the chain. It won’t be an easy fix. He’ll need a shop. It should buy you a day.”

Laura’s heart fluttered. A day. No bike. Yay. Less than a minute later, the young guy was ready to leave, taking some spare bike parts with him.

“So,” he sidled up to her, “I helped you. Now what’s in it for me?”

Laura almost decked him. Instead she looked around, grabbed her folding chair and thrust it at him.

“Cool,” he grinned and waved it in the air towards his friend, who gave two thumbs up. “See you later, airbed girl.”

With that he was gone. Laura rolled her eyes then did a happy dance. She had to get it out of her system before Charlie appeared, otherwise it would be impossible to keep a straight face when he told her his bike was broken. When she stopped her happy dance her eyes rested on the two English guys. She got a double thumbs up from each of them.

“Damn it,” Charlie knelt beside his bike. “Someone’s been messing around with my bike. I can’t cycle this. I need to find a repair place.”

“Shame,” Laura said beside him.

He stood slowly. If he wasn’t mistaken the Iron Maiden was struggling to contain a grin. His eyes narrowed.

“Did you do something to my bike?”

He folded his arms across his chest and glared at her.

“Yes, absolutely,” she said. “Because I know so much about bikes. Think about it Neanderthal. I need a book to put up my tent and I still can’t work the gears on my bike. Do you really think I could have messed with yours?”

“Let me see your phone.”

“What?”

She tried to look indignant; she was hiding something.

“Hand it over sweet cakes.” He took a step towards her, invading her space. “Don’t make me come and get it.”

“Fine,” she huffed and made a big deal about handing it over.

Charlie flicked through her Internet history. Nope, she hadn’t Googled how to do it either. Reluctantly, he returned the phone. She looked far too smug about the whole thing, which set off alarm bells. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it.

“Well,” he said at last. “We can’t cycle today.”

“Oh. Shame.”

Her eyes got wider.

“Yeah, shame,” he said sarcastically.

She just blinked at him.

“I need to find a repair shop.”

He put the bike right way up.

“And then we can do something?” She sounded breathless. “Together?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that she was on her own, but she looked so eager. Like a little puppy with those huge eyes of hers.

“Fine, we can do something together.” Laura squealed, making him regret the decision as soon as it was out of his mouth. “But no talking,” he told her. “None.”

She zipped her mouth before digging around in her backpack. She produced a thick tourist guide to Holland and flicked to the region they were in.

“Oh, there’s a lot we could do,” she said excitedly. “There’s a flower market nearby, or we can make cheese, or there is a museum with a miniature town, or we can go shopping. What do you think?”

Charlie was thinking, mainly, why hadn’t he found that book at the same time as the other one and dumped them both in the bin.

“Charlie?”

“I’m not making cheese,” he growled. “And I’m not going shopping.”

“Miniature town and flower market it is then. This will be great.”

“Yeah, great.”

Laura punched him on the arm, it was like getting pummelled by a flea.

“Get a grip, Neanderthal, all I’m proposing is one day’s sightseeing. I’m not asking you to marry me.”

To his disgust he honestly couldn’t think of a comeback. Marriage was no laughing matter. In fact, he’d always figured that guys who joked about it jinxed their carefree lifestyles. And he liked his carefree lifestyle, thank you very much.

“Get ready, we leave in ten minutes,” he said.

Laura gave him an odd look before heading for the camp toilets. When she thought he wasn’t looking she grinned and punched the air. Oh, yeah, she had nothing to do with his broken bike. And he was the Queen of Holland.

“Why don’t you tell me about Afghanistan and then you can enjoy the rest of your holiday alone?”

They’d been about five minutes into their day when Charlie realised that there was no way she was going to keep her mouth shut. Thankfully the odd comment and grunt had been enough to get him through the flower market and round the model town. Laura had ooed and ahed over each miniature building and fake canal as though it was amazing. He couldn’t see it himself. Tiny buildings? So what? The real thing was all around him. What was the point in being awe struck by a doll’s house while behind you there were seventeenth century crooked houses and winding canals? He figured Laura related to the little version because, well, she was little.

“Charlie, wake up. Let’s get this over with. You can’t possibly be enjoying this holiday. Let’s cut our losses. Give me the interview and you can have fun for the rest of it.”

She wasn’t going to let him have any peace. It was heart breaking. A complete waste of a lazy afternoon in the sun. They sat at an outdoor table belonging to one of the many cafes that had spilt onto the town square. He should have been sipping thick Dutch coffee and watching tall blond girls walk by; instead he was listening to Laura nag.

“Well?” She prodded his leg with her toe. “Why don’t you give me the interview now?”

Charlie stretched out in one of the cafe’s rattan chairs, his long legs crossed at the ankles. He lazily reached up to pull his shades down his nose, so he could look at her over the top of them.

“We made a deal.”

“Who cares about the deal?” She waved her hands around for emphasis, then clutched her belly. She looked a little green. Well, he did tell her that two huge portions of fries with mayonnaise was a bad idea.

“I care about the deal.” He pushed the shades back into place. Man it was warm. He should have been swinging in a hammock somewhere instead of listening to Laura.

“Come on Charlie, you don’t want me here anymore than I want to be here. Give me the story and then we can both get on with our lives.”

Silence.

“Seriously, you enjoy having me here that much?”

Now that was funny. There was nothing enjoyable about this. Although the first night with the tent was pretty funny. Still, it was worth all the suffering. With Laura around he could sleep. That alone was worth any amount of trouble she caused. But he definitely wasn’t going to tell her that. In his experience if you gave a woman any insight at all, it always came back to bite you in the bum.

“You have your moments,” he said.

Even over the noise of the busy street he imagined he could hear her grit her teeth. He smiled.

“Okay,” she said at last. “Tell me something else. Anything else. This whole silence thing is driving me insane and trust me; you don’t want me to snap.”

That made him grin.

“You don’t snap, you plan. You schedule. You reason things through. You might get round to writing an angry email - well worded of course - but you definitely don’t snap.”

“I can snap.”

She sounded affronted. As long as he lived he would never figure women out. He tells her that she’s not unbalanced and she’s upset. Go figure. He looked around at the crowded terrace crammed with people enjoying nice relaxed lunches and envied them.

“I can snap,” Laura said again.

“Sure you can,” he said and patted her hand.

He could practically see steam coming out of her ears.

“I’ve snapped.” She sounded indignant. Fine. He would play along.

“Name one time.”

She bit her lip as she thought about it, making him grin.

“You.” She said with an air of triumph. “I snapped with you. The day we had our,” she cast around for a word but couldn’t come up with one. “The day we had sex,” she said at last.

She looked really pleased with herself.

“And that was what? Twelve years ago. And let’s face it, it was only a little snap.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Is that it? Is that what you think of me? That I plan every tiny detail of my life? That I never take any risks or do anything irresponsible?”

Yeah, like he was going to answer that question.

“Come on,” she pulled her chair towards him. “Tell me what you think of me.”

“No way.”

Laura’s hand slid onto his thigh. Everything within him stilled. She slid her fingers towards the sensitive part of his inner thigh. Charlie’s mouth went dry. And then she pinched him. Hard.

“Hey,” he shot upright. “That was out of order.”

“Come on Charlie. You think I’m uptight?”

“Fine.” He removed his sunglasses, put them on the table in front of them and ran his fingers through his overgrown hair making it stand on end. He had no idea why she wanted to know what he thought of her, but he could see that he wasn’t getting out of it anytime soon.

“You were born responsible. You never cut loose. Never take a chance. Ever. You live like a coward. You’re so scared of losing control you’re constantly puckered. Watch out for those lines Laura. They’re going to scream uptight old spinster.”

Laura sucked in a breath. She looked like she’d been slapped. Charlie instantly regretted that his words had been so harsh.

“Well, at least I won’t die sad and alone after a life trying to emulate Hugh Heffner.”

Now that was a low blow. Before he could think it through he was talking.

“I suppose you have it all figured out. Two point four kids, a people carrier for a car and a house in the burbs. Don’t forget the boring grey husband who never does anything out of the ordinary.”

“You just described the perfectly happy life that millions of people lead, moron.”

Charlie placed a hand on each arm of her chair and leaned in towards her.

“You’re a coward, Laura Prentice. You think you’re doing the sensible thing, but you never take any chances at all. You live half a life and then get mad at the rest of us who live a full life. Think on that while you’re bored out of you mind for the next fifty years.”