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A Bit of a Breeze
‘What have you enjoyed most about this holiday then, boys?’ Amy asked, as she put the last log onto the fire, and watched the sparks fly upwards into the sky, where raggedy clouds flitted in front of the stars. The wind was getting stronger.
‘Goat Gunge!’ they said, almost in unison, and Matt and Amy both laughed.
‘I know what you liked best!’ Harry said. ‘You liked snogging in the bedroom!’
‘That’s enough Harry!’ Amy said, quickly. She didn’t want to admit it, for Oliver’s sake, and she didn’t want to deny it, because it would be a lie. It had been the best moment of the holiday — and one of the best moments of her life, even if it was over and might never happen again. She glanced at Matt, trying to read what he was feeling, but his face was in shadow and she couldn’t catch his eye.
Oliver made a noise as if he was being sick.
‘Thanks, Olly!’ Matt gave the logs a good poke.
‘Amy, can I come to your tent, to finish the Titty book before bedtime?’ Oliver asked.
‘Yes, there’s only the last bit to read. We’ll finish it tonight.’
‘And can I sleep in the pop-top with Oliver, Mam? My bed’s squashed flat now,’ asked Harry. ‘You did say I could ask?’
‘I think you need to ask Oliver first!’ Amy pointed out.
‘Yeah! Can he, Dad, can he?’
‘Only if you promise not to be silly and not to play on Goat Gunge all night.’
‘We won’t, we promise.’
‘Not all night.’
The wind was gusting strongly now, funnelling up the valley, and causing the fire to blaze away very quickly, whipping the smoke away from them.
‘It’s probably a good thing Harry will be in the campervan tonight,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure this old tent is capable of standing up to a storm.’
‘If you’re worried about it, why don’t we take your tent down now, and you can sleep in my bed tonight?’ Heat rose in her cheeks. It was all very sudden, after promising Oliver they wouldn’t even kiss!
‘I don’t think —’ she began, horrified he might make a suggestion like that in front of the boys.
‘Oh! God! No, I didn’t mean like that!’ he said hurriedly. ‘I’ll sleep in the passenger seat. It’s comfortable enough.’
‘I’m sure it won’t be necessary. It’s only a bit of a breeze. I’ll be fine in the tent, and I’m sure the passenger seat isn’t comfortable.’
‘If you’re certain. I don’t mind.’
‘I’d mind, putting you out of your bed like that.’
The fire was dying down now to embers. Matt raked them over, stirring up the flickers of flame from the last log he’d put on, and some sparks spun away on the breeze towards the gap where the awning had been. All that was left was a patch of worn grass in the shape of the awning.
‘Perhaps it’s time to call an end to the evening. I’ll put some water on the fire. That wind’s getting strong now, and I don’t want any of those sparks blowing onto your tent,’ he said, putting out the last of the fire with the bucket of water they’d kept beside them in case of accidents. It hissed angrily, and a mixture of steam and smoke rose into the air and was swept away up the valley, towards the old cottage.
* * *
The last two chapters of the Titty book were accompanied by the loud flapping of the flysheet, which seemed appropriate enough to accompany the dramatic story of the storm which wrecked the camp for the Swallows and the Amazons. There was a rhythmical thumping from outside, and when she peeped out, she saw Matt hammering extra pegs in for her.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
‘Cross-pegging your guy ropes. They’ll be firmer if it does turn into a storm,’ he said.
‘Our tent isn’t going to blow down, is it?’ Harry asked. ‘Like Titty’s tent did?’
