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Not now, Ben. Not now…
“Come on, then,” Jack says, pulling me to my feet, completely oblivious to the sudden reappearance of my most significant ex in my mind. “I’m so excited about this, Emerald. I just can’t wait to show you. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now.”
He grins again, looking adorably rumpled and boyish, and my stomach lurches with sudden excitement.
Oh my God, he reallyisgoing to do it. I wish I’d worn something else now. What if he’s hired a photographer to capture the magic moment? Or gathered all of our friends and family to witness the joy of our union? I wonder if I have time to go and change? I wonder if—
“Emerald.”
Jack’s looking at me as if he can read my mind. Which would be super-awkward, especially after all that stuff about my stupid outfit, so I smile brightly as I follow him out to the car, doing my best impression of a totally normal person.
Who might just be about to get engaged to the love of her life.
I think I’m going to throw up with excitement.
The butterflies in my stomach, however, settle down as Jack drives us out of the village and into the hills above it, and they roll over and die altogether when the car comes to a stop in front of a set of unremarkable metal gates hidden among the trees, which I’d have driven past without even noticing them.
Why would he bring me uphereif he was going to propose to me? Whythishill in particular? If he’d taken me up Westward Tor, say, that would have made sense, because Jack once had to rescue me from the top of it, during a storm. (Notsincethen, though. Because that would be exactly the kind of “accident” Ido not have. Nuh-uh.)
This hill, however, has no special meaning to either of us, as far as I’m aware; and although the view is pretty, it’s the same view you get from more or less everywhere around here, so it’s not like it’s particularly special, either. And neither, it has to be said, is the massive cow pat I step in as soon as I try to get out of the car.
Well done, Emerald. That’ll definitely add to the romance of the moment. If there’s even going tobea romantic moment, that is; which seems increasingly unlikely, somehow.
Jack, however, just smiles mysteriously as he unlocks the chain that’s holding the double gates closed, before taking my hand and leading me through them, onto the muddy track beyond. I hold onto him tightly, hoping desperately that he can’t smell the cow dung on my shoes as we walk a short distance through the forest, dodging puddles in the churned up ground as we go.
“Sorry about the mess,” Jack says as I step gingerly over what looks like the imprint of a tractor tire, which has left deep grooves in the soil. “There’s been a lot of traffic coming and going over the last few weeks. The road will be paved soon, though.”
I look up at him confused.
Traffic? Up here in the hills?Whatroad will be paved soon? And what on earth does any of this have to do with me and the totally imaginary engagement I’ve been planning in my head ever since he told me about this so-called ‘surprise’ of his?
“I don’t understand,” I say, yelping as I land in an unexpectedly deep puddle and send mud splattering all over the legs of my jeans. “Where are you taking me, Jack? What’s going on?”
“Just wait,” he replies, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Just a few more steps, and then you’ll see it.”
We emerge from the trees into a cleared area near the top of the hill. From here, we can see all the way back down to the village and the sea beyond it, which sparkles in the sun — a bit like the diamond I’m slowly losing hope is tucked inside Jack’s pocket. But that’s not what I’m looking at. Because, right in front of me, there’s a huge sign; one of those rustic, wooden ones, that are supposed to look like they’re hundreds of years old, but which actually cost a small fortune to commission from a very modern workshop.
On the sign is what looks like a map — a small one, showing a winding road leading to what looks to be around ten little houses — and above the map is my name. Orhalfof my name, anyway.
EMERALD VIEW,it says, in beautifully carved capital letters.WELCOME.
I turn around to look at Jack, still not understanding what, exactly, I’m supposed to be seeing here, but knowing for sure that it’s definitely not an engagement ring.
“You’ve… had my name put on a sign?” I say stupidly, quickly trying to arrange my face into the expression of gratitude and excitement that he’s clearly expecting from me. “You bought me a sign?”
“Not just a sign,” Jack replies, his smile so wide now that his dimples are out in full force. “It’s way more than that, Emerald. Take a look behind it.”
I step obediently to the right, so I can see behind the giant slab of wood, which has been blocking most of the view.
It’s… a hill. With, okay, a couple of tractors, and some kind of excavator huddled together a little way down it, but still… just a hill. Quite a muddy one, too. And unless Jack’s planning to use the machinery in front of us to literally dig a diamond right out of the ground for me — which issounlikely that not even I can be bothered trying to imagine it — I can feel my dreams of the perfect proposal slipping sadly away.
“I’m still not seeing it,” I say, peering down the hill to where the sea glitters beyond it, and trying to surreptitiously wipe my feet on the grass to get rid of the cow pat. “You’re going to have to help me out here.”
“You’re not seeing it, because it’s not here yet,” says Jack, looping his arms around my waist from behind me and resting his chin on my shoulder. “But one day soon, this is going to be the site of the most exclusive log cabin community in the Highlands.”
There’s a rustle of paper as he pulls something out of his pocket, which definitely doesn’t sound like a ring box.
“Here, take a look at this,” he says, letting me go and thrusting a sheaf of papers into my face. I smile weakly as I take them and start flicking through a set of photocopied pictures of log cabins, all with their own hot tubs beside them. They do look nice, I have to admit. Swanky. Luxurious, even. But… alog cabin community?That’smy big surprise?
