Page 77 of The Next Chapter

I’d checked with her foster mum that it was okay that she’d been demolishing so many, only to be told that so long as Harper’s eating, that’s all that matters. I couldn’t help but notice that Blake, Harper’s brother, was sat with his foster dad, being read to under the shade of a tree.

I’d gone and cleared the hotel shop of Pringles after that.

Nothing else has happened with Noah, not since that Tuesday night. For the past three nights, we’ve kept it strictly professional, working on his piece on Skye. I’m equal parts relieved and bereft at this.

It’s for the best, I remind myself for the millionth time.

Absolutely, it’s for my own good.

I don’t know why, then, I’m re-reading his books on Skye. Why I read them late at night when I’m on my own.

Or why I feel so sad that I only got that one-night with him.

* * *

The Fairy Pools are a must-see on Skye. Known for their crystal blue waters and set at the foot of the Black Cuillin range, the pools make for the perfect place for a swim. The history of the pools is entwined with no small amount of magic. Local legend holds that the pools were once the preserve of a fairy princess, forbade by her father from marrying the mortal man she had been handfasted to.

* * *

I have to stop reading Noah’s book, even though I don’t want to, because I’m meant to be meeting him in the car park for our next scouting trip right about… now.

I grab my rucksack and tighten my shoelaces and rush through the gardens to find Noah waiting by the motorbike. His motorbike. Because obviously the motorbike in the hotel car park belongs to him. Why should it be that the man who writes beautiful prose is also into motorbikes I’ll never know.

‘All ready?’ he asks.

‘Yeah, but just to be clear here. You want me to get on the back of that while it’s in motion. I mean, moving.’

‘I’ll drive carefully,’ is all he says in reply.

I peer again at the motorbike. It’s just, there’s nothing over you, is there? No roof. If something goes wrong, you’re very exposed. It’s not exactly like the emergency services are going to be on hand out here. Not when it’s a half-hour round trip for a loaf of bread.

‘I can ask Lola if we can borrow her van?’ Noah offers. Obviously, I’m not doing a very good job at hiding my alarm, which just will not do. I’m meant to be wild and free Lily, that’s the deal here. Not Lily who is frozen with abject terror.

‘No, don’t worry, this looks great. I’ve actually always wanted to go on a motorbike.’ I take the helmet Noah is holding out and pull it over my head (my hair will make me regret this later). Noah swings a leg over with ease and I clamber on behind him with much less ease. My knuckles are white where they grip the seat behind me.

I want to message Seb, to tell him that if I die, he can have the house so long as he looks after Elton, but I also don’t want to let go of the seat. Even not moving, the bike feels precarious. There are only two wheels!

I grip onto Noah’s sides through his T-shirt. He at least is solid and warm. It’s calming. He puts his hand over mine where I’m clinging on to him so hard several G forces couldn’t dislodge me. Noah squeezes. ‘I’ve got you.’

I try to match my breathing to his. In, out. In, out. How bad can this be?

The engine revs to life and I scream. We haven’t even set off.

‘We should get the van,’ Noah calls. We’re stationary in the car park. I’ve screwed my eyes shut.

‘No, just go.’ I cling on even harder. ‘I want to try.’

‘Okay?’ Noah calls back to me. ‘It isn’t far, try to relax.’

Fat chance of that.

We turn around in the car park and I don’t fall off. Excellent.

‘Here goes.’

I scream again as we set off properly. This one muffled into the back of Noah’s T-shirt.

I’m sure we’re going faster than the speed of sound. We zip through the lanes, Noah completely at ease, me the very opposite of that. Is it normal for your life to flash before your eyes while you’re still alive?