“IthoughtI did,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But now I’m wondering if I should’ve packed more chocolate. You know, emergency rations.”
“You’ll be fine,” I say, chuckling. “You’re more prepared than you think.” And even if she isn’t, I’ll be close enough to help. No need to say that outloud—not yet.
She glances at me, and her smile softens. “Thanks for letting me come with you two. Makes it feel a bit less... like I’m doing it on my own.”
“You’re not,” I say quietly. I hadn’t planned to say it, but the words come out anyway—firm, certain. And maybe a little more than I meant to reveal.
We sit with that for a moment.
Then I clear my throat, nodding towards the building. “We should hit the loos before we get back on the road.”
“Good shout,” she says, standing with a stretch.
It takes a minute to pry Lucy away from the swings, but eventually she lets me scoop her into my arms, resting her head on my shoulder as we head toward the parent-and-baby toilets.
Just before we reach the door, she leans in and whispers, “Daddy, I wanna get a surprise for Ivy. For the camping. To help her.”
I glance at her, surprised, then smile. “That’s very sweet, Lu. Alright—we’ll find something good.”
She nods solemnly. “But shh! It’s a secret. Don’t tell her!”
“Cross my heart,” I whisper back.
Inside, she chatters away, brainstorming gift ideas with the enthusiasm of someone planning a heist. When we come out, Ivy’s waiting just outside the toilet block, her arms folded, amusement written all over her face.
“What are you two up to?” she asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“Can’t say,” I reply smoothly. “Classified.”
Lucy beams. “It’s a secret!”
Ivy laughs softly. “Oh, I see. One ofthosesecrets.”
She and Lucy share a look—one of those little wordless exchanges they’ve started having—and something tightens in my chest. Not in a bad way. Just... in a way.
I should probably be worried. But I’m not.
Not even a bit.
24
Somewhere in Dorset
Ivy
Theo pulls the carto a stop at the edge of a wide, open field, right next to what can only be described as a large shed with a weathered sign shouting CAMPSIDE in big, bold letters. The shed’s surrounded by a wide wooden patio with a roof and a few picnic benches scattered about, presumably so campers can enjoy their baked beans in comfort, come rain or shine.
“Are you sure you’re going to be alright here?” Theo asks, giving the so-called campsite a thorough once-over. His raised eyebrows are doing a lot of heavy lifting.
To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what I expected from a campsite, but it wasn’t… this. I thought there’d be more, I don’t know, basic conveniences? Maybe something that felt less like the start of a survival documentary. But then again, roughing it was the plan, wasn’t it? Back to nature. Proper camping. No glamping nonsense.
“It looks… lovely,” I say with a cheery smile that’s all teeth and no sincerity.
“Are you sleeping with the sheep?” Lucy pipes up from the back seat. She’s wriggled free of her car seat and is now perched between the front seats, pointing at a group of sheep grazing peacefully near the edge of the field.
“I hope not,” I mutter under my breath, the cracks in my resolve starting to show. Don’t get me wrong, the location is stunning. Rolling green hills stretch out in every direction, the Dorset countryside looking like something off a postcard. But it’s also painfully clear how far away the nearest civilisation is. The tiny houses dotted across the landscape look charming… and utterly unreachable.
“Want me to help you with the tent?” Theo offers, though the crease in his forehead suggests he is worried about more than just my shelter.
