Page 70 of The Trip of a Lifetime

They pulled into the bus station in the early afternoon. Erin dragged herself and her bag off the bus and stretched her back out with her arms wide open.

‘How is it possible to be so tired when all we’ve done is sit down for hours on end?’ she said, but Martha wasn’t listening. She had sat down heavily on a bench.

‘We’re going to find a hostel and call it a day today,’ Erin said. ‘We cannot keep going at this pace and neither will any of the other contestants. We need to be well enough to cross the finish line.’

‘Agreed,’ was all Martha could manage.

* * *

The hostel was a two-star place but Erin was surprised how clean and nice it was. They could stay in a female dorm in bunks with privacy curtains and a shared bathroom for less than fifty dollars between them. Erin handed over the cash to the woman booking them in.

‘That’s with breakfast included. You can help yourself to cereal, fruit, toast, yogurts and maybe pancakes if Rudi is in to cook them,’ she said. ‘Either way, there’s plenty, and loads of fresh coffee.’

Noah hung around long enough to film them checking in and then he left them to it in favour of the hotel the crew were booked into.

Erin and Martha left the hostel in search of something to eat and found a pizza place where they shared a Margherita before they agreed neither of them had the energy to explore the city, so they walked back to the hostel.

It was only seven in the evening at this point but both women used the bathroom and crawled into their bunks.

‘I’ll be more on it tomorrow,’ Martha said to Erin and then drew her curtain. Erin lay awake for a while thinking about that finish line and about the luxury of a phone and not having to do everything at breakneck speed. She’d never usually be in bed so early but within half an hour, her eyes were beginning to droop and she fell asleep to thoughts of Sam and where he might be now.

31

MARTHA

I was officially exhausted and I really didn’t know where I was going to find the energy needed to even get me to this next checkpoint on Prince Edward Island, let alone the finish line. The thought of my lovely flat at home with my books and paintings, my boho rug and my colourful throws made me feel a bit tearful for a moment. Oh, to be curled up with a book and coffee, the window open to the throng of the street below and birdsong coming from the plane trees in Hoxton Square gardens.

I didn’t care about what Priya was up to now but it was quite clear to me that she was the person who paid, or enticed, or whatever she did to persuade Sergio to trick me in Madrid. Perhaps she was just having a bit of fun, perhaps she was trying to get Harrison on his own, maybe she honestly thought she’d get to the finish line first.

Now, this information should have emboldened me, given me that extra fighting spirit to see me to the end, but it hadn’t. I was replete and just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. I was going to be relying heavily on Erin on this leg. I already was relying on her.

We were on the first bus out of the city after a very early start. We’d taken our breakfast with us, never having had the opportunity to sample Rudi’s pancakes. The bus tickets set us back $115 and I really did feel, at this rate, we’d be coming into St John’s on fumes.

Our aim was to get to Rivière-du-Loup as quickly as possible and even though I was looking in the guidebook at all that Quebec City had to offer, Erin was ushering me onto another bus. It was going to take us about three hours and she handed over another $120. She wanted to cover as much ground as possible, saying she could feel the others breathing down our necks. I wanted to curl up on the nearest park bench.

I did check the map and it seemed as if we were only inching our way to the checkpoint despite the money we were haemorrhaging.

‘I’m praying we get a lift, at least some of the way,’ Erin said. ‘It will mean finding a gas station and approaching strangers again. It doesn’t seem to bother me so much now. Maybe I’m getting desperate.’

She laughed then and she looked so much like Clare with her hair pushed up in a ponytail that it made my heart hurt.

By mid-morning we were outside a gas station in Rivière-du-Loup and Erin was asking if anyone was heading south towards Fredericton. I had our bags with me and was perched on a large rock on the edge of the area. The producer car with Cally and Noah was parked off out of shot and felt like a huge tease. Just give us a bloody lift, I wanted to say. I did consider telling them I was ill again – goodness knows I felt pretty terrible – but I couldn’t do that to Erin now. She was in her element. She was thriving under the pressure.

‘I feel like I’m begging,’ Erin said after half an hour of nothing.

I got myself up then. A lot of people spoke only French and I was aware that mine was very rusty, but Erin’s was non-existent so I needed to pull my weight. Erin handed me the sign she had fashioned out of the back of a cardboard box she’d got from behind the bins and a pen she’d charmed out of the guy on the till. It now had ‘FREDRICTON’ written on it. For the next ten minutes I approached everyone filling up their cars and some dismissed me with nothing more than a non, while others were a little less hostile – Désolé, je ne peux pas vous aider.

‘I’m going to get us both a coffee,’ Erin said and strode off towards the shop.

I didn’t stop her to tell her we couldn’t afford it. I was desperate for the caffeine. She was gone for ages and I was beginning to get worried about her and then she came out with a huge smile on her face.

‘I found us a lift.’

Behind her was the biggest man I had ever seen. He had a coffee in one hand and a huge bag of crisps in another. His head was bald but to compensate, he wore a ginger and grey beard that hung down to a point over his chest. His eyes were warm and friendly.

‘This is Curtis. I met him in the crisp aisle. He has a huge lorry and has offered to get us as far as Moncton.’

‘Curtis,’ I said, holding out my hand to shake his. ‘I am very grateful to you.’