This Book Made Me Think of You(61)

When she opens the front door now, she doesn’t trip over Joe’s trainers. Because they aren’t discarded by the door. Instead, they are lined up neatly on her bookshelf, finding a new life as a rather unusual but perfect pair of bookends.





September


Book Lane Recommends

Books to take you on an adventure (without having to leave home)



The Wild Places, Robert Macfarlane

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail, Cheryl Strayed

Miss Benson’s Beetle, Rachel Joyce

The Hobbit, J. R. R. Tolkien





Thirty-Nine




If you’d told Tilly a week ago that she would be spending her Sunday morning putting up a tent in her local London park, she would have laughed. Or perhaps just winced.

“So, you’ve really never put a tent up before?” says Alfie, the two of them looking down at the assortment of poles and pegs laid out on the grass. The sun is bright and high above them, summer hanging on by its fingernails. “Because I really don’t want to mansplain camping to you only for you to reveal you did the Duke of Edinburgh expedition as a teenager or something.”

Alfie’s shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms, lightly tanned. Instead of his usual tortoiseshell glasses, he’s wearing a pair of tortoiseshell Ray-Bans.

“I’ve really never put up a tent before,” Tilly replies, giving the pile of camping gear on the ground a nudge. “Joe always wanted me to come camping with him, but I always managed to find an excuse. I hate camping. Houses were invented for a reason.” Alfie doesn’t question her, just like he didn’t ask any questions when Tilly messaged him a couple of days ago to ask if he knew anything about camping and was available that weekend.

“A tent is like a house you can carry anywhere with you.”

“This doesn’t look much like a house…”

“Not yet. But it will, I promise.”

“And you’re sure you’re OK with me borrowing your camping gear?”

“Of course. It’s nice to think of it being used, I haven’t had time to go for a while. Shall we get started?”

Alfie shows her how to connect the tent poles together and pass them through tiny holes to build the frame.

“Why do they keep breaking?” she says when the poles snap in the middle.

“That happens sometimes. You just have to scrunch up the fabric until you’ve found the break and fix it. Can I?”

He locates the problem and shows her how to fix it herself.

“You did say someone is coming with you, didn’t you?” he says when she nearly hits her thumb with the mallet meant for the tent pegs.

“Yes, my friend Rachel.”

Rachel had phoned at the start of the month to catch up and asked about September’s book from Joe. When Tilly told her that Joe had given her a book about wild camping, Rachel had burst out laughing. When Tilly told her that she was planning on going on a wild camping weekend to remote Scotland, she had stopped laughing and insisted that she come with her.

Seriously, you can’t go on your own, Tils. And it will be more fun if we do it together, Rachel said. Tilly wasn’t sure that she was expecting the trip to be fun. She was going because Joe had asked her to, and it turned out it was very difficult to say no to the dead love of your life. Plus, I’ve got family up there I’ve been meaning to visit for ages, Rachel had added.

Tilly had been hesitant at first. Their friendship was in a much better place, but could it withstand a weekend away just the two of them? On the other hand, she really didn’t want to go alone, and she still wasn’t speaking to the person it would have made the most sense to invite. Harper would definitely know how to put up a tent.

“That’s good,” Alfie says, nodding earnestly. “And I’ve heard the mobile coverage is much better these days. You should never be out of range of contact with Mountain Rescue.”

“I’m not sure that’s as reassuring as you mean it to be.”

Eventually they both take a step back, Tilly’s hands on her hips.

“Well, it looks like a tent.”

She unzips the entranceway. “Come on, we need to test it out.” She crouches down, holding the back of her pale green dress as she crawls inside. Alfie hesitates for a moment, then follows her. It smells like woodsmoke and is a lot smaller than it looked from outside, especially with Alfie sitting beside her, his long legs hugged up to his broad chest, his shoulder brushing against hers. It is warm inside, the sun filtering through in a soft glow. The open doorway creates a window showing dogs, a child riding a bike, a squirrel climbing a tree…Tilly feels part of it all but also separate in a way that feels comforting. It’s surprising how much a thin piece of waterproof fabric can make her feel in her own little bubble, her own shelter.

She leans back on her hands, stretching out her legs.

“This is nicer than I expected. It’s cozy.”

Beside her Alfie shifts to lean back, too, stretching his legs so they stick out of the tent. For once he looks almost relaxed.

“It is.” She is very aware of the warmth of his body beside her, the way the tent smells not just of woodsmoke but of coffee and books too. “And just imagine it with a sleeping bag nest inside. And a kettle steaming on a gas stove outside, against a beautiful view…There’s nothing like it.”