reached the village a short time later. Holly directed Alex to the newsagent’s, where he lowered her to a chair just inside the door and went off in search of paracetamol and a bottle of water. She rubbed her ankle. It was throbbing, and swelling up horribly…
Her eyes came to rest on the newsstand. The latest issue of BritTEEN, emblazoned with the bright yellow tagline “One Outrageous Question with Hottie Henry”, sat in the middle of the shelf. Alex was just steps away; if he turned around, he’d surely see it.
Please, Holly silently begged the magazine gods, please don’t let him see it…
The magazine gods must’ve listened, because Alex walked past the newsstand and went straight to the till.
He returned to Holly. “Here you go,” he said, and opened the paracetamol and tipped a couple of pills into her outstretched hand. “Now—” he frowned “—how do we get you back to the house?”
Holly took the bottle of water from him and swallowed the pills. “Well, we can’t take a taxi, not with the dogs. And Dad went to fetch Hannah early this morning.”
“I noticed an estate car parked round the back of your house when we left.”
“It’s Mrs Henley’s. She’ll be far too busy fixing lunch to come and get us.”
“Well, I’ll call the house just the same, and see if someone else can fetch us—”
But calling proved unnecessary when Mrs Henley’s teenage daughter, Lucy, came into the newsagent’s and offered to take them back. “I’m headed that way anyhow,” she told Holly. “I work half-days on Saturday, helping with the lunch service and the clearing up. Mum likes her chocolate,” she added as she grabbed up a Bounty and a Dairy Milk from the confectionery display.
“Thanks,” Holly said gratefully. “Do you have room for three dogs, as well?”
“No problem.” She indicated an ancient VW Kombi parked just outside. “Go ahead and hop in. I just have to pick up a couple of things. Be out in two ticks.”
The Kombi — painted a virulent shade of lime green and plastered with stickers of flowers — earned a distrustful look from Holly but besotted enthusiasm from Alex.
“This is fantastic!” Alex exclaimed as he opened the double doors. “It’s got a Canterbury Pitt conversion.”
Holly looked at him blankly. “A what?”
“A custom conversion,” Lucy explained as she joined them. “A table goes in the middle, but it’s stowed; and I’ve a cooker, and a poptop with two bunks above, for sleeping.” She waited as Holly, Alex, and the dogs clambered inside, then slid behind the wheel. “’Course, it’s old, so it breaks down a lot.”
“Great,” Holly muttered.
“Not to worry,” Lucy assured her as she started the engine. “Daisy won’t get you back home very fast, but she will get you there.”
The stench of diesel filled the air as Lucy put the van in gear, and, true to her word, with a judder and a toot of the horn, they were off.
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