Nat pops a couple of mini conditioners into my bag. She was given a tote filled with samples after organising a beauty brand’s launch event and I am forever grateful for the perks of her job.
‘No one, actually.’
I stop shoving shorts into my rucksack. ‘No one?’
My best friend shrugs. ‘I’m going to take some time for myself.’
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Just a bit of Tinder fatigue, I think. I fancy some me time. Don’t look so worried! I’m going to catch up with mates, go to the cinema and take myself out for pie and mash. Meanwhile you’re going on a minibreak with your boyfriend this weekend. We’ve basically swapped roles,’ she giggles.
I laugh at that. She’s right.
It’s just Zach, Gerty and I cruising through the Lake District with another of Zach’s impeccable playlists providing the soundtrack. I’m into his eclectic taste in music. Some stuff I recognise and some stuff that sounds like it might be played on one of those ultra-cool French radio stations that are impossible to find. The minute we hit Cumbria the landscape opens out into expansive views of windswept hills and exposed crags, a patchwork quilt of browns and greens. I wind my window down (that’show old Gerty is) and shout out into the wild, ‘WOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!’
‘It’s like going for a drive with Tiny the dog,’ Zach laughs.
‘Rude. I’m just expressing my enthusiasm.’
Zach winds his own window down. ‘WOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!’ he calls, before quickly pulling his head back in as an articulated lorry trundles past on the other side of the road. His hair’s all mussed up from the wind.
‘Feels good, doesn’t it?’
He grins and my insides somersault. A whole weekend with Zach. I’m really, really excited. It’s been ages since I’ve had a Saturday off but Eve kindly offered to take on the wedding we had booked in for this weekend and when the clients saw what she was capable of, they were more than happy to let her run the show. I’m the first to admit that I can be a bit micro-manage-y when it comes to my flower shop. The business is my baby and I’m definitely guilty of wanting to be involved in everything. But Eve is brilliant and has such a natural flare with her styling. So here I am, taking time off and going on a mini-break with an actual man I like.
New me who dis?
‘Left or right?’ Zach asks as we approach a fork in the road.
‘I’m guessing left?’
‘You’reguessing?’
‘That sign says Windermere so …’
‘Alice, did you print off a map before we left?’
‘No I did not, Grandad! I’d forgotten that Gerty doesn’t have satnav,’ I add sheepishly.
‘What about a map on your phone?’
I check. ‘No signal.’
‘Perhaps now’s the time to tell me where we’re going? Two heads are better than one and all that.’
‘You’re going to love it,’ I say confidently. The artist’s residency I found online has Zach written all over it. Floor-to-ceiling windows with views of the lake. Minimalist interiors. Its own jetty! I cannot wait to see it.
I cannot see it. That’s because it’s pitch black by the time we arrive. The place is literally in the middle of nowhere and with no satnav or phone signal, Zach and I had to stop at every village we drove through to ask for help. Hardly anyone had heard of it. Eventually we found an old lady chasing after chickens in the garden of her remote cottage and Zach was so charming with her, offering to help round them up for the night, that once she’d given us directions she handed us homemade cheese, a dozen eggs and a packet of sausages as we left. Now that we’re finally here, the owner of the residency is less pleased. We were meant to check in at 4 p.m., he keeps grumbling. We offer sincere apologies and let him harrumph for a bit longer before I shepherd him towards the front door. It’s time to light some candles, open some wine and get our mini-break on.
‘Just look at that view,’ Zach says, relaxing in a chair as I sizzle our free sausages on the outdoor grill. I pad over and plonk myself on his lap, following his gaze. The sky is so dark now and without the glare of any big cities, we find ourselves under a canopy of stars.
‘It’s beautiful,’ I whisper.
Zach wraps a blanket around both of us and I settle my head on his chest. I feel peaceful and still and quite frisky to be honest. But first, sausages.
I’d have happily spent out first morning in the Lakes scoffing breakfast and admiring the view but Adventure Pants has other ideas. Swimmingin the lake. It looks absolutely freezing in the water and Zach is not doing a very good job of pretending otherwise.
‘It’s exhilarating,’ he calls back at me, teeth chattering. I’ve a big fluffy towel wrapped around my body and I’m pretty cosy thank you very much. However Zach has a gentle persuasion technique … it’s called his face. Droplets of water trickle from his forehead down to his jawline. There’s a smile curling at his lips. Frankly I’d be a fool to resist, so I let my towel drop to the floor and dive in head first.
