Twist Of Fate

Twenty Seven

CHLOE

Apart from an awkward two-minute pause to gulp some water from the bottles we bought in the local shop, we don't stop until we reach the patch of greenery shown on the map; the edge of the New Forest, just as I predicted; and we certainly don't speak. My tshirt is sticking to me, and trickles of sweat make their way every couple of minutes down my back and below the waistband of my shorts. 

The track we are walking along skirts the edge of the forest. Trees, hedges and brambles line the roadside to our right, so dense there isn't an opening wide enough for us to squeeze through into the safety and shelter of the wilderness. Birds sing high above us, the tops of the trees rustle and sway in the gentle breeze and our feet scrape the ground below us as we trudge along in the unforgiving heat. 

"We need to find a path of some sort," I mutter to Harry, as we pass along the overgrown edge of the forest that is too thick to penetrate without protective clothing. "Once we're in the thicket we'll be properly hidden from view. But I don't fancy our chances battling through those brambles. We'll be ripped to shreds."

We saunter along a little further, peering to our right through gaps in the trees. After about five minutes I am just contemplating suggesting changing clothes into something long-sleeved for protection and attempting to do battle with nature, when Harry suddenly says triumphantly, "There!"

I follow the direction in which his finger is pointing to see a tiny gap in the foliage, just wide enough for us to enter without worrying about being injured. With a hesitant glance at me he pushes his way forward, ahead of me, through the branches and into the undergrowth. His feet trample the bracken and nettles with a soft crunch as he stomps his way through, letting tree branches swing back behind him without a backward glance. I follow as close behind him as I can, trying to avoid being hit in the face. Within fifteen seconds we are out of view of the road, so thick are the bushes and trees that surround us, however this is both a blessing and a curse as we are now searching for a flat, smooth surface upon which we can pitch the tent. It is much cooler in here, under the shade of the high trees, with so little sunlight able to permeate the leaves to the forest floor.

A couple of hundred feet in we come across a tiny clearing where the sun beats down, the grass below our feet burnt and crisp yet just beneath the trees it is long, cool, soft and green. 

"Here?" I suggest, and Harry gives a casual nod. 

"It'll do."

I peer around us, turning a full 360 degrees to check there is nothing in sight that could give us away or cause alarm, but there is nothing. Literally, nothing. Nothing except green and brown.

Trees, bushes, leaves, twigs, earth.

Stones, bugs, bark, grass, nettles.

It is remote, beautiful and serene. 

Behind me Harry is bending over and unzipping the tent bag, pulling out the poles and shoving them roughly into their slots.

"Careful," I advise. "You don't want to rip the fabric. It will weaken the structure."

He pulls a face but to my surprise does as I suggest. There is a first time for everything, I suppose.

It takes only a few minutes to assemble the tent this time. Once it is erected Harry busies himself with carrying the bags inside, and then emerges a couple of minutes later with the unzipped fabric tent case, two bottles of water and a couple of chocolate bars. He spreads the case on the ground like a picnic blanket, chucks one of the wrappers at me, and sits himself down heavily, his legs bent up so his knees are by his face and his forearms are resting on top. I sit down next to him and unwrap my chocolate bar, my stomach growling. It is soft and warm, and almost completely melted. I have to rip the wrapper down the middle and pretty much lick the chocolate off the inside, and a quick glance at Harry shows he is doing the same. I throw him an amused look, which he returns with his eyes, and after a long swig of water I lie back on the makeshift mat and close my eyes, enjoying the sounds of the blackbirds chirping in the trees overhead, the smell of the foliage encasing us and the gentle rustling of the breeze.