CHAPTER ONE.
“Are you seriously fucking telling me I’ve trekked fifteen fucking miles for this?”
“Doesn’t look too bad to me,” Craig said, not believing it for a second.
Beth had a point, but all the same. He’d just about had it with her moaning. This was supposed to be fun.
Note to self, he thought. Next time I invite a girl I hardly know on holiday with me, don’t. I don’t care how fucking hot she is…
“Why don’ t those two ever wait for us? They’re always like a hundred miles in front.”
Maybe it’s because they’re sick of listening to you moan, and because there are slugs that move faster than you, Craig thought, but didn’t say.
“Come on, they’ve stopped, they’re waiting for us to catch up.”
Jessie and Tim had stopped at the fork in the path. Straight ahead the winding, cliff top trail continued into the far distance. Left led down into the village of Hanow.
Above, the sky threatened rain. It had been bright sunshine five minutes ago but now the wind stirred the surrounding foliage and the sea churned angril y against the high, rocky cliff face. Jessie and Tim stood still, their bright blue, pull on macs flapping around their bodies.
“Jeez, what a dump,” Beth moaned.
Craig had to admit, the village wasn’t quite what he had been expecting. As far as he could see, it consisted of three tumbledown cottages. That was it.
Jessie threw him a smile as they approached and Craig’s stomach gave a little lurch. Even after a fifteen mile trek she still looked as fresh as when they had first set off this morning. She positively glowed with happiness at being out in the great open.
Why oh why did she have to be his best mate’s girl? Maybe, if he looked more like Tim, then he would be with her instead. Tim was over six foot, broad shouldered, and in possession of dark, film star looks. Craig was too short, too blonde and too average. OK, so some chicks dug his boyish charms, but Jessie wasn’t one of them.
A nd there he was, stuck with Beth the moaning ninny.
“Pub must be down there somewhere,” Tim said. “I could murder a pint.”
They walked in pairs down the narrow, gr avel road. Of the three cottages, one was boarded up. Thick planks of wood were nailed haphazardly over the windows. But the thing that struck Craig as odd was that the planks were on the inside.
“Bit strange this ,” Tim called to Craig over his shoulder. “The old guy in the B and B said it was a village. Doesn’t look much like a village to me.”
“Yeah,” Craig agreed, “I thought there’d be a shitload of holiday cottages here at least.”
“Who cares, I’m starving, and my feet are killing me. If there aren’t any buses that go from this shithole back to Penzance I’m going to fucking kill you all,” Beth moaned.
Oh, shut up, Craig thought.
But Beth irritating him wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. Tim’s words were. He was right. Why would the old fart that had the B and B describe this place as a village when it blatantly wasn’t?
It was just a bit weird. It made him uneasy, but he couldn’t say why.
T he road veered off to the left, taking them down into the heart of the village. If it could be called that. Craig figured it must be the centre because the pub was here. Just a pub. Nothing else. Nothing else except for wilderness, that is.
“See, there’s a pub,” he said to Beth. “How bad can it be?”
She just glared at him.
Craig noticed that her mascara had run and her foundation had settled into orange patches on her skin. He wondered why she had bothered with makeup in the first place. Jessie hadn’t. But then, Jessie didn’t wear much of the stuff in the first place. Jessie didn’t need to. Beth, on the other hand, wouldn’t be seen dead without a full face of porn-staresque slap.
“It’s so pretty,” Jessie sighed. “I wish I lived in a place like this.”
“You’re kidding me right?” Beth grumbled. “I’d
“Are you seriously fucking telling me I’ve trekked fifteen fucking miles for this?”
“Doesn’t look too bad to me,” Craig said, not believing it for a second.
Beth had a point, but all the same. He’d just about had it with her moaning. This was supposed to be fun.
Note to self, he thought. Next time I invite a girl I hardly know on holiday with me, don’t. I don’t care how fucking hot she is…
“Why don’ t those two ever wait for us? They’re always like a hundred miles in front.”
Maybe it’s because they’re sick of listening to you moan, and because there are slugs that move faster than you, Craig thought, but didn’t say.
“Come on, they’ve stopped, they’re waiting for us to catch up.”
Jessie and Tim had stopped at the fork in the path. Straight ahead the winding, cliff top trail continued into the far distance. Left led down into the village of Hanow.
Above, the sky threatened rain. It had been bright sunshine five minutes ago but now the wind stirred the surrounding foliage and the sea churned angril y against the high, rocky cliff face. Jessie and Tim stood still, their bright blue, pull on macs flapping around their bodies.
“Jeez, what a dump,” Beth moaned.
Craig had to admit, the village wasn’t quite what he had been expecting. As far as he could see, it consisted of three tumbledown cottages. That was it.
Jessie threw him a smile as they approached and Craig’s stomach gave a little lurch. Even after a fifteen mile trek she still looked as fresh as when they had first set off this morning. She positively glowed with happiness at being out in the great open.
Why oh why did she have to be his best mate’s girl? Maybe, if he looked more like Tim, then he would be with her instead. Tim was over six foot, broad shouldered, and in possession of dark, film star looks. Craig was too short, too blonde and too average. OK, so some chicks dug his boyish charms, but Jessie wasn’t one of them.
A nd there he was, stuck with Beth the moaning ninny.
“Pub must be down there somewhere,” Tim said. “I could murder a pint.”
They walked in pairs down the narrow, gr avel road. Of the three cottages, one was boarded up. Thick planks of wood were nailed haphazardly over the windows. But the thing that struck Craig as odd was that the planks were on the inside.
“Bit strange this ,” Tim called to Craig over his shoulder. “The old guy in the B and B said it was a village. Doesn’t look much like a village to me.”
“Yeah,” Craig agreed, “I thought there’d be a shitload of holiday cottages here at least.”
“Who cares, I’m starving, and my feet are killing me. If there aren’t any buses that go from this shithole back to Penzance I’m going to fucking kill you all,” Beth moaned.
Oh, shut up, Craig thought.
But Beth irritating him wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. Tim’s words were. He was right. Why would the old fart that had the B and B describe this place as a village when it blatantly wasn’t?
It was just a bit weird. It made him uneasy, but he couldn’t say why.
T he road veered off to the left, taking them down into the heart of the village. If it could be called that. Craig figured it must be the centre because the pub was here. Just a pub. Nothing else. Nothing else except for wilderness, that is.
“See, there’s a pub,” he said to Beth. “How bad can it be?”
She just glared at him.
Craig noticed that her mascara had run and her foundation had settled into orange patches on her skin. He wondered why she had bothered with makeup in the first place. Jessie hadn’t. But then, Jessie didn’t wear much of the stuff in the first place. Jessie didn’t need to. Beth, on the other hand, wouldn’t be seen dead without a full face of porn-staresque slap.
“It’s so pretty,” Jessie sighed. “I wish I lived in a place like this.”
“You’re kidding me right?” Beth grumbled. “I’d
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