My bum is damp from sitting on the woods’ mulchy floor. If I ever make it out of here, I’ll definitely have to change out of this jumpsuit for dinner. I drag myself up onto my feet and slip my phone back into my pocket while trying to figure out which way I was heading before my genius decision to phone Alice. I really have no idea – is it any wonder I ended up lost? I’ve probably been walking around in circles.
Right. Pick a direction and go.
I set off again, concentrating more on the view ahead than my footwork. I might trip over a tree root and break my ankle, but it’s a chance I have to take if I ever want to make it out into the open again. I’ve only taken a dozen or so careful steps when I hear a sound, a sort of loud snapping noise, and feel a mix of relief and fear. What’s up ahead? Friend or foe? Human or wolf? Taking extra-careful steps, I edge closer to the noise, which I hear again and again. As the sound grows louder, I start to hear other sounds too; rustling, metallic clatters, the words ‘twat muffin’.
Not a wolf, then.
‘Hello?’ I speed up slightly, but not too much as I’m still cautious. It could be anybody. What if it’s Ezra, the toothy, wannabe adulterer?
‘Hello? Who’s there?’
My heart sinks when I hear the voice. I’d quite happily welcome Ezra with open arms right now.
‘Oh. It’s you.’ Tom, appearing from behind a chunky tree trunk, folds his arms across his chest. ‘Lost again, are we?’
I make a pfft sound. ‘No. I was looking for you. To give you these.’ I hold out the loaned clothes, forgetting my book is tucked under my arm with them. The book thuds to the floor, cover facing upwards.
‘What’s this?’ Tom stoops to pick up the book, smirking when he sees the heroine, her cleavage hoicked up to her chin, leaning in to kiss the bare-chested hero. ‘Christ, you don’t read this crap, do you?’
‘Yes, actually, I do.’ I snatch the book from him and shove the jogging pants and T-shirt at him. ‘Reading is escapism for me…’
‘I’d certainly want to escape from that tosh,’ Tom says, nodding at my book, but I choose to ignore him.
‘And I’m not ashamed of my book choices.’ Even still, I’m hugging the book to my chest, my arms shielding the cheesy cover. ‘I’m not a literary snob. Unlike some people.’
Tom holds up his hands. ‘Whatever floats your boat.’ He’s still smirking though, the git. ‘Anyway, what are you really doing out here? Because, unless you’ve been stalking me, you wouldn’t know I was out here clearing those low-hanging branches in time for the…’ Tom narrows his eyes. ‘Are you cheating?’
‘Cheating?’ Why do people keep accusing me of that today? I’m not a happy bunny, and thrust an angry finger at Tom while taking a step closer to him. ‘I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, or who’s been spreading vicious rumours, but I am not a cheat! I’ve never been unfaithful in my life!’
Tom takes a step back and holds his hands up. ‘I’m talking about the treasure hunt, you lunatic. And I was kidding.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ I quickly put my pointy finger away and lift my chin into the air. ‘What treasure hunt?’
Tom starts to wander back through the trees and, for some unfathomable reason, I follow. Perhaps I’m a glutton for punishment. It would explain why I’ve agreed to Alice’s matchmaking.
‘Carolyn’s organised a treasure hunt for this afternoon.’ He picks up a long-handled instrument and stomps his way up a set of ladders, creating a familiar clanging sound. ‘So I’ve been landed with the delightful job of tidying up the woods.’ Grimacing with the effort, he lops off a thick branch, which falls to the floor with a familiar rustle. ‘Carolyn doesn’t want anybody taking their eye out on a low branch, but if she thinks I’m trimming back the entire woods she can do one.’ He lops off another branch and wipes his brow with the back of his hand. ‘You still haven’t told me what you’re doing out here.’
‘I did.’ I step aside as another branch tumbles down dangerously close. ‘The clothes.’ He’s dumped the neatly folded garments on the mulchy floor. ‘Thanks for lending them to me, by the way.’
‘How did you know I’d be here?’ Tom lops off another branch, and I can’t help noticing the bulge of his impressive biceps as he forces the blades to snap shut. ‘Are you psychic or something? Or are you stalking me? Should I be worried?’
I roll my eyes. ‘As if. I didn’t know you’d be here. It was an unhappy accident. I was going to leave the clothes on your doorstep.’
‘My doorstep?’ Tom pauses, the jaws of his trimmer wide open against one of the branches. He twists his head slowly to peer down at me. ‘But my cottage is all the way over there.’ He nods towards the opposite end of the woods before a grin spreads across his lips. ‘You’re lost again, aren’t you?’
‘No. Not at all.’ Bugger. ‘Just taking the scenic route. It’s such a beautiful place. Peaceful. And I thought I’d find a spot to read.’ I waft the book at Tom. ‘So, no, I am not lost.’
Tom turns his attention back to the branches, lopping another off. ‘You’re so lost. Do you need me to take you back to the castle? Because it isn’t as though I’ve got work to be getting on with or anything. They put me out here in the woods just in case I need to rescue any poor little damsels in distress.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ My mouth gapes open as I stare up the ladder at him. ‘I am not a damsel in distress!’
‘You sounded pretty distressed last night.’ He thumps his way back down the ladder. ‘I could hear you shrieking from inside.’
‘I was not shrieking.’ I’m tempted to lob my book at his stupid head.
‘Archie, Archie,’ Tom says in a mocking, high-pitched voice. ‘Help me! Help me!’
‘I did not cry out for help!’ Did I? I’m pretty sure I didn’t.
‘Whatever.’ Tom folds his ladder and scoops up the clothes before stalking away. ‘I’m going back to the castle. You can follow me if you want, or you can stay here – not lost – and read your trashy book.’
I hesitate for a moment. I can keep my dignity and remain in the woods (I’m sure I’d find my own way out, eventually) or I can swallow my pride and scamper after the conceited tosser, back to civilisation.
Damn it, I really don’t want to stay lost in the woods.
‘I should be getting back anyway,’ I say as I dash to catch up with him. ‘Alice is probably wondering where I am.’
Tom glances behind him, a smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth when he sees me following like an obedient puppy. ‘Don’t worry about Alice. When I saw her, she was on her way to the stylist for a “hair rehearsal”.’ Tom rolls his eyes as he performs the air quotes. I really want to disagree with him, but the boy has a point. ‘She said she’d be stuck there until at least lunchtime, so there’s no rush for you to get back. Stay, read your book, wander aimlessly in the woods until somebody rescues you…’ Tom grins at me while I present him with my very best glower.
‘I’ll catch up with Archie then.’ I won’t; this is just an excuse to tag along with Tom, because I’m not that keen on the idea of wandering through the woods, getting more and more lost with each step.
Tom’s grin drops from his face in a flash, and he stops, turning to face me fully as I haven’t quite caught up with his long strides. ‘You should be careful with Archie. He isn’t quite as charming as he’d have you believe.’
My hands find themselves planted on my hips as my heckles start to rise. Who does this bloke think he is? Who does he think I am? Some gullible little fool who takes everybody at face value? I pride myself on my sharp judgement of character, and I don’t need guidance from the likes of him.
‘Seriously, Emily. You seem like a nice enough girl, and you wouldn’t be the first he’d misled with his aren’t-I-the-perfect-gentleman act.’
‘What the hell are you talking about? What act?’
Tom shakes his head as he scratches the back of his neck. ‘It doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything.’ He starts to stride away again, but I hurry after him, grabbing him by the arm and tugging until he comes to a stop again.
‘Tell me what you meant by that.’
Tom sighs. ‘It isn’t worth the hassle, believe me. But just be on your guard, okay?’
I could tell Tom I have no interest whatsoever in Archie, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. If anything, his cryptic, cautionary tale is only going to push me closer to Archie. I’m not overly keen on being told what to do, especially by grumpy gardeners I’ve known for all of five minutes.
‘I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.’ Tom’s features soften, just for a fleeting moment, before they harden again. ‘He’s already left you stranded in the woods, freezing your arse off.’
‘That was an accident.’
‘Hmm.’ Tom is off striding again, and I’m scuttling to keep up.
‘I thought Archie was one of your best friends. Weren’t you all really close as kids?’
‘We were.’ Tom shrugs. ‘And then stuff happened, and I found out we weren’t that close after all. The others went home after that summer and I was left here.’
‘But they tried to stay connected with you.’ I remember Alice and Carolyn saying so, when they were so excited about being reunited with their old friend.
‘Yeah, a few years later when they finally remembered I existed.’ Tom shakes his head. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter.’
It clearly does matter, to both parties. Tom is still hurting from what he sees as a rejection, and Alice is gutted there’s a huge wedge between herself and her former friend. Whatever happened to cause the rift in their friendship can’t be that bad, surely. I don’t actually believe in fate personally, but maybe the foursome were brought here together at the castle – the epicentre of their friendship – for a reason. Maybe all they need is a gentle nudge to remind them of that friendship and what it meant to them once upon a time.
‘Tom?’ We’ve been silent as I’ve been mulling over a few ideas, but I’m curious. ‘What’s a twat muffin?’
Tom grins at me, and I think it’s the first genuine display of joy I’ve seen from him. It isn’t laced with sarcasm or smugness, and I’m startled by how handsome he is now he isn’t wearing the scowl I’ve become accustomed to.
‘That’s the sound you make when you overreach and nearly fall off your ladder.’
My navigation skills seem to wake up once Tom dumps me in the entrance hall, and I make it back up to my room without any mishaps. I’m already exhausted by the day so far, so I have a little lie-down until Alice wakes me to tell me all about the treasure hunt. She’s so excited, I don’t bother to mention I’m already aware of the afternoon’s activity.
‘Grandpa used to spend ages writing clues,’ she tells me as she plonks herself down in front of the dressing table and refreshes her lip gloss. ‘We had to wait in the nursery with the curtains closed so we couldn’t cheat and see where he was hiding the clues. Tom always won, but I have a good feeling about today’s hunt. A very good feeling indeed.’ She pouts at her reflection in the mirror as she screws the lid back onto her lip gloss. ‘Anyway, lady, tell me all about him.’
‘Who, Tom?’ I’m still on the bed, but I’ve propped myself up on one elbow. Alice swivels around on her stool to face me, her facial expression a pretty close match to Tom’s when he called me a lunatic.
‘Tom?’ She tsks. ‘I’m talking about Twiggy, obviously. Unless you’ve been flirting with Tom as well?’
‘As if.’ I sit up fully and draw my knees up to my chest. ‘And Twiggy and I weren’t flirting.’ Although he was rather keen on touching my bum, the naughty little twig.
‘With anybody else, I’d call horse poop. But I actually believe you.’ Alice moves from the stool to her bed, where she sits cross-legged with Hubert on her lap. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flirt. Not even with Edward.’
‘We weren’t a flirty couple,’ I say with a shrug. ‘We were basically mates who had sex.’ Fantastic sex, I add to myself.
‘Nope.’ Alice shakes her head. ‘Now I am calling horse poop. You were more than “mates who had sex”.’ Alice tucks Hubert under one arm so she can make the air quotes. ‘You two were perfect for each other.’
‘We really weren’t.’ I shuffle off the end of the bed and stride across to the bathroom, locking myself safely inside. I don’t want to talk about Edward. I don’t want to even think about Edward. Luckily, I’ve perfected the art of elbowing him from my mind.
‘I’m sorry,’ Alice calls through the closed door. ‘I promise to keep it zipped about you-know-who. Come out and tell me more about Twiggy.’
There isn’t much more to tell. He’s a twig. His name pretty much sums him up.
‘Do you think he’ll be taking part in the treasure hunt?’
I unlock the door and ease it open, still on guard. ‘I’d be very surprised if he showed up.’
‘Why’s that?’
I grab my sandals from where I kicked them in a corner earlier and sit on the bed, concentrating on fastening their tiny buckles while I summon a believable answer.
‘He said he was going for a drive. You know, exploring the village and countryside. He’s very into nature.’
‘Didn’t he invite you along?’ Alice scrunches up her nose. ‘That isn’t very gentlemanly of him.’
‘He did, but I decided to stay here.’
‘You’ve not gone off him already, have you?’ Alice sighs. ‘Because that’s quick, even for you.’
‘No, I haven’t gone off him. I just wasn’t in the mood for a drive.’
Alice purses her lips. She doesn’t look very convinced. ‘He sounds lovely. Don’t mess this up.’
‘I won’t. And he is lovely. Not a big talker, though. The conversation was pretty much one-sided.’
Alice shrugs. ‘Maybe he’s just shy. I’m sure he’ll open up a bit more once you get to know him.’ She claps her hands together and does a more sedate version of the squeal she pierced my eardrums with earlier. ‘So? What does he look like?’
‘He’s slim. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Brown everything, really.’
Alice jumps onto the bed next to me, almost bouncing me off the mattress. ‘Are we talking Idris Elba here? Because you know how much of a crush I have on him. I will be so jealous if he looks even remotely like my Idris.’
‘He really doesn’t.’
‘Phew!’ Alice mimes wiping her brow. ‘I could totally envisage a cat fight then.’
‘You have nothing to worry about. Twiggy isn’t your type.’
He isn’t anybody’s type, unless you’re a particularly small dog in the mood for a game of fetch.
‘I can’t wait to meet him. You’ll have to introduce me to him at dinner.’
‘That’s if he’s back from his drive.’
Alice shrugs. ‘We can meet later at the quiz if not. Hey, maybe he can be on our team!’
I can sense Twiggy is going to be problematic. Alice isn’t going to let it go. She’ll want to meet him no matter what. She’s like a dog with a bone – or a twig, I suppose.
‘We’ll see.’ I smile weakly while trying to formulate a plan to get myself out of this. A plan that doesn’t involve admitting that the man of my dreams is actually a sodding twig I found poking me in the arse cheek.