Page 34 of The Next Chapter

‘I was reading,’ I tell him. ‘You just saw me in the middle of a long blink.’ I do another exaggerated blink for some reason. It feels awkward, laying down while Noah is stood next to my hammock, so with all the grace I can muster (not an awful lot), I roll myself out of it, avoiding sprawling in the dirt at his feet but by the grace of God.

I stand up with my water bottle. ‘Thirsty,’ I tell him, having a long drink.

Be normal.

‘Have you had a nice afternoon?’ I ask, my head still fuzzy from the nap. I never nap. I quietly judge people who nap. I blame the fresh air.

‘Yeah, just got back from a hike.’ Noah gestures over to a picnic bench, like he wants us to sit there.

Honestly, how Noah could have been good to go for yet more exercise is beyond me. We literally spent the whole morning moving.

I don’t exactly know what’s happening, but I follow him over. There’s a small tabby cat curled underneath the bench and when we sit down it jumps onto Noah’s knee and starts padding. Lucky cat.

The bench, I notice, has a massive hole in the middle of it and the broken wood around it is jagged. It has ‘tetanus’ written all over it.

‘I know I said yesterday, but I really do love your writing.’

‘Thanks.’ He looks at the ground. ‘It’s the travelling I want, so much as the writing.’

Not sure why I hadn’t realized that Noah would be a travel writer since he wrote actual travel books about Skye. Of course he wouldn’t just write about one island. Travel writers really are the cool kids of the writing world. The tattoos, the hair, the shy sex appeal.

‘Wow, how amazing. You must have been all over.’

‘Pretty much,’ he agrees. ‘I love being away. But I always come and stay with Lola if I’m in Scotland. I’m doing another piece on Skye for Lonely Planet.’

‘I’m surprised there’s anything left for you to write about here, you’ve done so much already.’

‘Ah, the island has a lot of secrets. Lola knows that as much as I do.’

I don’t want to ask how he knows Lola, it seems strangely personal. And I also don’t want to admit that I find holidays to be peak stress. I can’t imagine going on holiday for a living. I’d absolutely hate it.

‘I’m a writer too,’ I tell him instead. He probably already knows this. Chances are no one at kayaking missed Seb talking about our jobs. But Noah plays along.

‘No way, what do you write?’

‘Personal memoirs. Say if someone wants their history writing down, that’s what me and Seb do.’

‘That sounds really interesting. It’s so cool that you work with your brother.’

Yes. Right. Everyone here thinks that Seb is my twin brother.

‘Yeah, it’s great.’ I’ve started to sweat again. I wish my neck fan wasn’t broken. ‘We’re good friends. What’s your piece on?’

‘Those secrets I was telling you about. Hidden Skye.’ He reels off what must be the title of his article.

‘That’s exciting,’ I answer.

‘Yeah,’ he agrees. ‘Though I grew up here, so it’s hard to see it through the eyes of someone visiting for the first time.’

‘That makes sense. I’ve never been before. I’ve been to Scotland, I mean, to Edinburgh a couple of times. It feels starker here, more remote.’

Noah looks at me for a second and then nods. ‘That’s why I love it here. Lola too.’

I can’t think of anything to say to that. Maybe that’s why Lola never got in touch. Because she liked it out here too much.

‘Look.’ Noah’s voice, all deep and manly, pulls me out of my depressing spiral. ‘Tell me to get lost if you like, but do you fancy coming on a hike with me in the morning? I don’t know if you heard Lola say that Blà Bheinn has amazing views. I’m going to go first thing. It’s one of my top five and I’d really appreciate your take on it as someone who’s never been before and a fellow writer.’ The red on his cheeks is back with an absolute vengeance.

I look at the mountain Lola had pointed out on the loch. Looks high.