Autumn
shoulder. He instinctively pulled away, annoyed and frustrated.
‘Calm down,’ she sighed, trying hard to soothe her companion’s nerves despite the fact that her own were tattered and torn. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get there.’
‘Get where? Fucking hell, all I can see are trees. I haven’t got a clue where we are. We’re probably driving in the wrong direction...’
‘Got it!’ Carl shouted.
‘Got what?’ Michael snapped.
Carl had been poring over the pages of a road atlas.
‘I think I’ve found where we are on the map.’
‘Well done,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Now can you find that bloody house?’
‘I’m trying,’ he replied. ‘It’s not easy. I can’t see any landmarks or anything to check against.’
‘So can you see any buildings round here?’
‘Hold on...’
Carl struggled to focus his eyes on the map. He was being thrown from side to side as Michael followed the winding route of the narrow road.
‘Anything?’ Michael pressed impatiently.
‘I don’t think so,’ Carl eventually replied. ‘Look, can you slow down a bit? I’m having trouble...’
‘Look, if you can’t find any buildings on this road,’ the other man interrupted angrily, ‘do you think you could tell us how to get to another road that might actually lead somewhere?’
Another pause as Carl again studied the map.
‘There’s not very much round here at all...’
‘Shit,’ Michael cursed. ‘There must be something...’
‘Will you take it easy,’ Emma said from the back. ‘We’ll get there.’
Michael thumped the steering wheel in frustration and then swung the van around a sharp bend in the road. He had to fight to keep control of the vehicle and then was forced to steer hard in the other direction to avoid driving into the back end of a car which had crashed into the hedge.
‘If I’ve got this right then we should reach another bend in the road soon,’ Carl said, sensing that they needed some definite direction. ‘Just after the bend there’s a junction. Take a right there and we’ll be on a main road in a couple of miles.’
‘What good’s a main road? I just want a road with buildings on.’
‘And I’m trying to find you one,’ Carl shouted. ‘Fucking hell, do you want to swap places ‘cause all you’ve done is criticise everything I’ve tried to...’
‘Bend coming,’ Emma sighed, cutting right through their argument.
Without slowing down at all Michael steered round the sharp turn.
‘Okay, here’s the junction,’ he said. ‘Was it right or left here?’
‘Right...’ Carl replied. He wasn’t completely sure but he didn’t dare admit it. He turned the map round in his hands and then turned it back again.
‘You’re positive?’
‘Of course I’m positive,’ he yelled. ‘Just bloody well turn right.’
Seething with anger and not thinking straight, in the heat of the moment Michael screwed up and turned left.
‘Shit,’ he hissed under his breath.
‘You idiot, what the hell did you do that for?’ Carl screamed. ‘You ask me which way to go, I tell you, and then you go in the opposite bloody direction. Why bother asking? Why don’t I throw this fucking book out of the window?’
‘I’ll throw you out of the fucking window,’ Michael threatened. He became quiet as the road narrowed dramatically.
‘Keep going,’ suggested Emma. ‘There’s no way you’re going to be able to turn the van around here.’
The width of the road narrowed alarmingly, and the tarmac beneath their wheels became potted and uneven.
‘What the hell is this?’ Carl demanded, still livid. ‘You’re driving us down a fucking dirt track!’
Rather than stop and admit defeat, Michael instead slammed his foot down harder on the accelerator, forcing the van up a sudden steep rise. The front right wheel clattered through a deep pothole filled with dark rain water which splashed up, showering the front of the van. He switched on the wipers to clear the muddy windscreen but, rather than clear the glass, they instead did little more than smear the greasy mud right across his field of vision, reducing his already limited visibility further still.
‘There,’ he said, squinting into the distance and looking a little further down the track. ‘There’s a clearing up ahead. I’ll try and turn round there.’
It wasn’t so much a clearing, rather a length of track where there was no hedgerow on one side and where there had once been a gate into an adjacent
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