Page 96 of The Next Chapter

‘Er, what’s that?’ I ask Noah, leaning back on the bike because I don’t trust my legs to support me.

‘It’s just that you went on and on about how it was such a shame that you wouldn’t get to skydive, I thought I’d give you the chance.’

Noah must see what is, no doubt, sheer terror written all over my face.

‘Obviously, you don’t have to. There’s no, like, obligation.’

I swallow.

This feels like punishment. For all my lying. But seriously, if one of my lies was going to catch me out, of course it would have to be the skydiving one. Couldn’t have been any of the other lies, could it?

Possibly, this is a test as to just how deep my people-pleasing tendencies run. Will I throw myself out of a plane rather than admit to not wanting to do something and risk disappointing the lovely Noah? Unlikely.

But here’s the thing. A tiny part of me does want to be the sort of person who does this. Who rocks up to a castle and embarks on an impromptu skydive. I want to be the person Noah believes that I am. A part of me wants to be the person I am on Skye. At least some of the time.

‘I’ll do it,’ I say.

Steve, my tandem flyer, at least takes health and safety very seriously. He could tone it down a bit, if you ask me. He’s very reassuring, though. Apparently, our chances of dying are ‘negligible’.

I send a quick ‘last will and testament’ WhatsApp to Seb, just in case. Hopefully, it’ll hold up in the coroner’s office if it comes to it.

Noah is laughing and joking with his diver.

‘It’ll be fine,’ Steve says. He’s having to hold me up at this point. We’re strapping ourselves into the plane. And isn’t that a ridiculous thing to have. Seat belts in a plane we’re about to leap out of.

‘Excited, Lily?’ Noah asks. He’s positively glowing as we take off from a patch of grass, leaving the perfectly lovely castle beneath us. I knew he’d look good on a plane. And he’s filling out his jumpsuit very well. I look like a child in a sleeping bag.

This is Noah in his natural environment. I can see, now, the kick he gets out of travel. It reminds me how different we are and makes me wonder why exactly I’m about to throw myself out of a bloody plane to impress the guy.

‘Sooo excited,’ I answer feebly.

‘That there’s Loch Dunvegan.’ Steve points to an open body of water to the side of the castle. Brilliant. More water. I’ve started to shake.

‘And what do we do in the event of a water landing?’ I ask, my teeth chattering.

‘Nah, there won’t be one of those, like.’

How reassuring.

We don’t seem to be climbing anymore. In fact, the pilot is giving us an okay sign from the front of the plane. And that doesn’t seem very technical, does it? How do they know we’re at the right place? I think that they should think some more about it. Go around again, perhaps.

I open my mouth to say I’ve changed my mind. I want to go back down. I don’t want to be the sort of person who does adventurous things. I want to be the sort of person who stays in bed with a book. It’s a myth, we don’t contain multitudes, we should just pick a lane and stay in it.

But Steve is saying that it’s time to jump and the plane door is open.

How am I at the edge of a plane?

Don’t they need to check that I’m sure for one last time? They asked a lot on the ground.

Steve is counting down. What happens next?

Oh my fucking Jesus, we aren’t in the plane anymore.

The wind hits me like a wind tunnel turned up to the max. Steve has manoeuvred us so that I’m on my stomach, riding on the wind.

‘Open your eyes!’ he calls.

‘No!’ I call back, thinking that I’d be really panicked right now if I could actually draw breath.