Authors: H Ryder
This gives us the definite starting point and a stone landmark we are looking for, which tells of a journey in darkness. “Indiana Jones” I laugh out loud, and immediately regret as Nigel swipes me a pitiful look.
“Tharie and I will wander out after lunch for an hour for a re-con, whilst you all prepare for tomorrow. We’ll start early, we don’t want to get caught in the dark.” Daniel tells everyone, not a question. Stan is about to protest and Daniel shuts the conversation down.
“No arguments,” he addresses this at Stan, “I just want some time alone with Tharie, hope that's not too much to ask?” He smiles at everyone, and they all agree. Especially me. What knickers am I wearing? God no! Bloody hell.
Note to self: change before you go.
I get a message on my phone, once again the little piece of tech vibrates, demanding a response, I hope for a pleasant distraction but all it does is perplex me. Daniel notices my attention on the tech in my hand and the corresponding mood change. “What’s up?” He asks me quietly, “anything wrong?”
I shake my head slowly, “nothing wrong exactly,” not quite knowing what to say. “It’s my neighbour’s daughter, she wants to be a lawyer.” He shakes his head in dismay, precisely. Clearly she lacks imagination, and just follows her father’s footsteps, “I thought she'd end up going to art school honestly.”
Daniel responds amusingly, “not damming in itself but I thought all youngsters wanted to be rock stars or tattoo artists.” True story, or so I thought. I snort an agreement, “so, why the screwed up face Tharie?”
“Well...” how can I put this? “You'll think I' mad? She
hunts
Daniel” I point my phone at him, not sure why.
“And you are
friends
with this girl?” A very good question. One I ask myself every hunt season.
“Not friends exactly, she's a neighbour.” you know the type of thing?
He looks at me in sadness. “Well?”
“I’m not sure someone who takes the life of another living creature for their own entertainment” shaking my head in disbelief, “has a firm grasp on what’s right and wrong.” True bloody story. “And wouldn't that be a key driver to becoming a lawyer?” (I'm told afterward that this in fact, is not necessarily so.)
“And she wants to practice law?” I nod, Daniel puts his arm around me, “I have to agree.” He says, I am relieved to hear that naturally.
“What should I tell her, she’s looking for encouragement?” It’s hard being a mentor.
Daniel scratches his head, his thinking face is on, “suggest she travels the world first,” he strokes my hair to calm me, “she’ll come back home a different person, everyone does.” He kisses my head, “she’ll have been on her own, she’ll have to grow up, learn to make her own choices.”
I'm thinking: she could just get a pony, that'll teach her about life. “Then what?” Happy there's a new plan.
“She’ll be a rock star or a tattoo artist!” He is of course, absolutely correct, who wouldn’t?
“Perfect” I tell him, “Her parents will be thrilled.” happy I'm out of the country, there's guns in their house.
“Do you care?” He understands, I’m glad.
“No, they’re only interested in money, and those who have it.” quite boring.
“Sounds boring.” Daniel hits the nail once again.
“It is.” And I look up at him, my feelings growing with every word, I love him don't I? Don't forget to change your undies Tharie I tell myself. I roll my eyes and reply to the text suggesting backpacking around the world to discover herself. She immediately responds that this is the new plan, a good thing about having rich parents, they can afford a round the world ticket. And I feel happier for all those poor villains who in all likelihood now won't get her as representation, this pleases me.
Later we have dinner on the decking, a stew of shallots and beetroot, with squash and pumpkin and charlotte potatoes and leeks, with an amazing bottle of Château Neuf Du Pape, and for dessert, poached peaches and cream. “Not bad for the middle of nowhere, what a lovely meal.” Says Nigel, we all sit looking like we've just had a Xmas feast, rubbing our bellies and groaning with pleasure. “Thank you so much Tharie” to nods of agreement all-round.
“Tharie, you didn’t tell me,” pointing her fork, “you
can
cook.” says Liza amused. “I assumed we'd be eating cheese on toast or Catharine's speciality, peanut-butter sandwiches!” Everyone seems amused, and Liza is clearly pleased with herself, for imparting new information.
Proceed in collected canter to H. This may be the last time I help you learn your dressage tests Liza Cartier!
“What's wrong with peanut butter sandwiches?” Complaining I stand to begin clearing dishes, half-heartedly, “it’s power food.” Liza winks at me, and helps me collect all the dishes up. I can’t let it go, “it's the only thing I can eat when I’m at an event, everything else gives me nausea.” I say as if an explanation were necessary, but nobody was asking, just smiling.
“I happen to love them.” pipes up Daniel in my defence. “
Crunchy or smooth?” He asks provocatively.
“Crunchy of course” I reply coyly.
“Come on Tharie, fancy a stroll before bed?” He winks at me and I blush, must be the company.
“Let's go then, but I’m driving.” I shake the keys already stashed in my pocket for a hasty departure.
“Oh god, really?” Liza giggles, she knows my driving of course, Daniel the control freak trying his hardest to be OK with me. Who does everything for myself and can't help it. Yes, really Mum, I can’t help it. You taught us to think for ourselves and be independent, what did you expect? Ask for help? Never?
“Can't I be the man and drive just once?” Everyone is enjoying this light-hearted dialogue between us.
“No, and we're taking the Wolf, I’m not trusting my survival out here in the back and beyond to that tiny piece of junk built in Japan.” I gesticulate with my head toward the brand new and twinkly clean 4x4 parked out front. Some people have no taste, it's not even black.
Daniel holds up his hands as if in mock surrender, “Wolf?” And takes my hand and we leave the rest of our odd group of intrepid explorers to prepare for the morning. “Everyone has bedrooms, please help yourselves to anything you need, my home is your home.” He means it too, and we hear happy mumblings as we walk away. He looks in horror at the old Landrover sitting behind the Japanese shiny frame. “That old thing?” If he was expecting support from the crowd he didn’t get it.
“Well, I like them, mine has never let me down once,” well, that's a lie but it tries very hard. “I trust it to look after us.” I gaze appreciatively at the old army Landrover, and jump in, this is going to be fun.
Daniel whole expression is one of 'not convinced', “this was our emergency back-up vehicle,” he puts on sunglasses, “not our first choice transport.” Daniel jokes. I'm guessing this was once a military vehicle, it's lightweight, no bumpers or fancy trim and the inside is stripped of all the comforts it would have been built with (which won’t have been many, luxuriously comfortable they are not), including a radio, and padding on the seats. It has clips and straps for attaching equipment to the outside and a side mounted spare wheel, in good condition I notice. Always check you're tack before you mount. Pony club remember? The engine starts first time and there’s a familiar vibration of a ticking sound of the engine that rocks the whole car. It rattles the equipment Stan has already stowed in the flat bed open back, fold up shovel, shackles and strops. If we get stuck, we’ve got recovery equipment, I am satisfied. There’s an electric winch bolted to the front where a bumper would have been, but even that's gone. We have everything we might need for a little adventure, including a flask of tea.
Let’s go.
Chapter twenty-two, Thursday
:
31thoctober2013, branching out
I like to drive to music, this is going to be different.
Daniel pulls a lead out of the glove compartment on the passenger dashboard, as if he'd read my thoughts, attaches the end to
his
iPhone presses play and the rag top without the rag top is filled with sounds. I appreciate this man, who seems to know what I need and supply it. And that single thought, dear reader, leaves me squirming a little in my hard slippery seat, and actually I can feel the pop-rivets that construct the seat through my jeans, ouch. I shove my Chloe huge sunglasses onto my face and off we go into the sunlight.
Ride a 20 metre circle working canter.
I pull away along the driveway to the heavenly sounds of The Cult, where did this incredible man come from? God can you imagine if his music had been pop! Careful Tharie, you’ve just eaten.
“You're amazing.” I tell him, tilting my head in surprise.
“Never been told that before.” Daniel looks at me through his Raybans, with a sweet smile, is he being self-deprecating or is he fishing? One eyebrow cocked, lips smiling, I'm in love people, now I know what Streisand sings about.
I decide to ignore it, “don’t spoil my concentration, I’m driving.” I tease, and try very hard to concentrate where I’m driving. We haven’t been alone for too long. Daniel has a remote slimmer than the ones I’ve seen before, must be new tech, and with a swipe of the face, the trees swish out of our way I don’t even need to slow down, and we are bouncing down the track. Happy in a Landrover, it’s a comforting type of supremely uncomfortable familiarity. “I thought I spotted a narrow track way off this drive to the right about here...yes! There, it's just overgrown, let’s try to get the Landy down there.” I begin to swing the wheel, 'steer for the rear' I recall from my off road training mantra. Branches scrape along the side of the vehicle making loud screeching noises. It makes me grit my teeth.
“You’re the driver.” Daniel slouches down in his seat and puts his feet on the dash, black desert boots, I approve. Crosses his hands behind his head and closes his eyes. “We go where you want.” Right. Good, I think, I can concentrate now. I stop briefly once the front end pointing the right way and my wheels are straight and put the car into low box so I can drive extremely slowly, like a walking pace. Daniel, takes notice and sits up, he's obviously never driven a Landrover off-road, His is a Range Rover massive black and wide. Bullet proof tinted windows, all top of the range and never a speck of dust on it. It’s never been played with, what a shame, they are just as good off road as this one is.
Note to self, pinch Daniels car for the weekend and return it needing a serious clean. Has it got a tow-ball?
“What did you just do?” As the underneath of the car gives a great clanking crunch as the low-box engages, and I hear the rods reassuringly slide in the pivot as I shove the diff-lock knob home hard.
“Go back to sleep, it's just a little extreme greenlaning that’s all,” and I try to remember everything I had learned. I pull away amazed at the response from this old car, even I’m surprised. It ticks along very nicely, its revs level and its steering is responsive. I have to make adjustments as we edge along the track to avoid lumps of wood, rocks and deep ruts, the ruts are hard as rock, it hasn't rained in ages. We come to a partial clearing and the track turns to a heading 2o'clock (I don't know right and left), almost back toward the direction of the house. We are now driving up-hill. I decide second gear and keep it in the whole way up. The jungle is incredible, the plants and flowers like I have only seen in my RHS book, and the scents are like the palm house at Kew. Great brightly coloured birds fly by in groups and the air is full of damp and the drops sprinkle us below, it's started to rain, fine warm drops.
Our Landy gets to the summit of what was a long climb up our side and as I stop at the apex the return downward journey is very steep. “Let’s go back Tharie.” Daniel says sitting up to attention and puts his hand on my leg, and his sunglasses on his head to let me know he's serious, “we don’t want to get stuck here.”
“Oh yea of little faith, this Landrover laughs at little descents like this.” And putting it into first gear, I tip it over the edge, “
Hold on Daniel.” I tell him and he complies immediately without any hesitation holding onto the grab bar on the dashboard (his car has an air-bag there, can't hold onto that). All feet off the pedals I sit back and let the old car take itself down the hill very controlled and slow. “I love Landrovers, and now you see the sense in them?” I ask, not expecting an answer, I still marvel at the control they give you, even driving through thick filth.
“Unbelievable!” Whispers Daniel, his eyes open wide in surprise, “safe and sound what a brilliant feeling coming down this steep hill. It would have been hard on foot at this extreme slope.” His face is alight like a kid at the zoo, though not me, I hate zoos and always have done. “How did you know, will my Range Rover do this?” kidding? Please, it has a Landrover badge doesn't it?
“Yes Daniel, it will, though yours has a little button to press for going down hills.” Why? “The clue is the little picture of a Landrover going down a hill, and there’s a matching one for up too.” I humph in disapproval, what’s wrong with a great clunking hard to use lever? I may have just answered my own question.
“I wondered what that button did.” Bloody hell.