Without a Compass Page 2

  When Kai let go of Wilbur’s hand he waved it in dismissal. “We have to help each other out, don’t we? Now you get on.”

  Kai chuckled and hopped out of the van, dragging his enormous rucksack and tent bag with him. The grass grew thickly between the cobblestones under his feet. The entire scene was a blend of grey and green tones. He got the backpack comfortable over his shoulders. Wilbur navigated a three-point turn, then Kai waved him off down the way they had come.

  Some of the locals raised their eyebrows at his large, inked up arms, but he just smiled cheerfully back at them. “Morning,” he called out to anyone that caught his eye. Some moved hastily away, some gave a tentative hello back. One teenage girl’s jaw dropped open before her neck went pink.

  Kai shook his head and pushed the gate open, heading down the lane that Wilbur had indicated he should take. It upset him a little that people automatically assumed he was some sort of brute. But he couldn’t do anything to change that, so there was little sense in dwelling over it. He liked the way he looked.

  He was pretty sure he didn’t have a repulsive face. His eyes were a little small maybe, but he had a strong jaw and big smile. If he kept his dark hair a couple of inches long he felt it meant he avoided looking like a stereotypical convict. Although he was big, he wasn’t some rhino of a man; he could still fit into clothes from regular shops, mostly.

  It was easier in a reasonably sized town, like Farnborough. They had a big rugby team there and he wasn’t the biggest guy in his gym by a long shot. Not to mention all the army lads from the garrison down the road in Aldershot. Kai would never want anyone to mistake him for those guys. He’d never served his country, but having them around meant people weren’t so fazed by muscles and tats.

  He wasn’t going to have much to do with the locals on this holiday. When he did, he’d just have to show them he wasn’t anything to be wary of.

  He spent the walk trying to remember who else Brendon had said was coming along from the old days. It had all been so last minute, Kai hadn’t really paid attention to the specific details. He thought maybe the Sidcups might be coming along. Their kids were older and if Kai remembered correctly, and now had little ones of their own. Jayne Sidcup always brought stacks of homemade cake with her to these getaways though, and Derek told funny stories about his old teacher days, so Kai wouldn’t mind catching up with them.

  After ten minutes, he crossed through a break in one of the taller cobbled walls and found himself in the campsite. Being July, there were a fair other few campers already set up. But to his left Kai eyed a large empty spot he thought would do very nicely indeed for him and the Andersons. Assuming they weren’t here already.

  There was a farm house up ahead that looked official. He made his way over to that in the hopes of registering with the owners for the week.

  A woman in a t-shirt with border collies on the front looked up at him. She was standing behind a reception desk stacked with folders and cardboard boxes and containers of sheep pellets. There were several years’ worth of old calendars on the wall behind her, also displaying images of collies. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.

  “Can I help you?”

  Kai was not here to rob her, so he had nothing to hide. “Hi, yes,” he said in a cheerful tone. “I’m pitching for the week, I think Phil Anderson made the booking.” The website said you didn’t need to make a booking during peak season, you could just rock up whenever you liked. But Kai thought it might be good to show he was with other people.

  The woman ruffled her dry, curly hair and flicked through one of the ledgers in front of her. “Oh, yes, right. The Scouts.” She looked at his tattoos again. Perhaps she was dubious that he was with a family organisation like Scouting. They were an intricate mix of designs; not sleeves exactly, but enough that most of his arms were covered.

  “Yes ma’am,” he said, smiling. “Am I alright to set up?”

  “It’s seven pounds a day, payable each morning.”

  He dug into his shorts until he found his wallet and pulled out a twenty. “Um,” he said, wishing he’d thought to break up some cash before heading north. “Have you got change?”

  She didn’t say anything, but counted out an inordinate amount of pound coins for him to take away with him. At least he wouldn’t struggle to pay the exact fee for the rest of the week.

  “Cheers,” he said with a nod, then backed out of the door into the sunshine again.

  He stopped at the drinking water tap on the outside of the shower block and refilled his sturdy travel bottle up. He downed half of it, filled it once more, then leisurely made his way over to the spot he fancied pitching in. A quick look around told him he was the first of the group here, so he could pick their patch.

  Gleeful at the opportunity, he considered his options. He didn’t want anything on too much of a slope. Or underneath any of the trees lest they dropped any debris on top of their tents. The area he’d spotted on the way in was relatively flat and had a semi-circular crop of rocks that made a nice boundary marker.

  Decision made, he worked happily for the next half hour, getting his tent erect and humming tunelessly to himself. It was made for two people to share comfortably, but that just meant he could sprawl out at night and not worry.

  He ignored the pang of sadness that caused him, despite his best efforts. Jess had been nice, he really wasn’t sure why things hadn’t clicked with her. Or Mira before that. Neither of them would have especially enjoyed trekking all the way up the country for a week in the boiling heat though, so maybe it was for the best. He’d like to find someone he could share getting a bit down and dirty with.

  He looked back over to see that while he’d been distracted, a large, bright white motor home had parked up on the gravel path. It appeared at odds with the rest of the landscape. But as he squinted he could just about make out Cameron Grinter exit the vehicle with the rest of his family. Ah, that made sense. It was an upgrade from their last model, but they always brought their Winnebago with them to these getaways. On regular camp weekends, they had to rough it with the troops.

  He waved, but they didn’t see him. Still, it was nice to know some of the rest of their party had arrived.

  After another water break, Kai got his bedding set up the way he liked. He then stashed the rest of his gear in the now half empty rucksack out of the way in the tent’s corner. “Done,” he said to himself with a nod.

  Looking back into the sunshine, he shielded his eyes and automatically scanned to see if anyone else had shown up. He was rewarded with the sight of a silver car cautiously crawling up the path until the motor home meant it could go no further, music blaring from its interior.

  Kai raised his eyebrows.

  He recognised that car.

  3

  Riley

  On reflection, summer probably wasn’t the time to try growing a beard. It wasn’t even very long and Riley went to great lengths to keep it trimmed neatly. But even just an extra centimetre or so of hair had him feeling as insulated as a stuffy attic. His hair on his head was thick too and flopped to the side over his forehead. It may have looked cute and all, but with these temperatures, he might as well have been wearing a balaclava.

  He huffed and tried ruffling it once more as he drove along. He was rewarded by a little fresh air sweeping through the follicles, but then it all went back to laying heavily on his head. As much as it was aggravating him right at that moment, he preferred it in this style. It wasn’t like he’d ever consider shaving it all off. So he’d just have to put up with it during these hotter months.

  Summer was fine as long as there was air con. Luckily Riley’s office complex was only a few years old and had climate control installed, unlike the majority of places in the UK. At home, the best he could manage was an old plug-in fan angled at the bed. Travelling anywhere by public transport was the equivalent of a free, stinky sauna. Proper climate control was one of the reasons Riley tended to jet off somewhere exotic for his getaways.r />
  He still had a number of days of annual leave left that he could take off. The bonus of camping was that aside from petrol and supplies, it barely cost anything at all. So maybe he could find a deal for later in the year and still manage a week abroad. The thought cheered him up, and he turned the music up a bit louder again.

  It definitely could be worse. It could be raining. In this weather, he would absolutely still be able to sunbathe. He’d also brought everything he needed with him to make a variety of cocktails. If he closed his eyes, he would totally be able to pretend he was by the beach, the Mediterranean sea lapping at the shore.

  As he approached a particularly spectacular view, he checked the clock on the dash display. He decided he’d made good enough time to take another quick break. He’d left London before ten that morning so as to avoid the weekend traffic. Even with making a few pit-stops to stock up on snacks and caffeine and to stretch his legs, he’d still made it to Cumbria earlier than he’d hoped.

  It felt so good to step out and reach his fingers to the bright blue sky, making his back pop and crack. He dangled down his long legs to touch his toes, groaning deeply. Betty’s bonnet was hot and dusty as he patted it fondly. As much as he loved her, after seven hours trapped inside, he was ready to not drive again for a few days at least.

  With no one else around, he took his time angling his phone to make sure he got the best view of the landscape behind him as he lined up the selfie. The ground dropped away from the road in a steep hill and the tree line was visible for miles in the distance. He tried a few snaps with a pout, then a smirk, then a smile. When he wasn’t happy with any of them, he attempted another round of each pose with slightly different framing, then threw in a wink and a smoulder.

  He finally settled on one of the smiling ones; he felt he looked demure. With Instagram open, he leant against Betty’s side and fooled around with filters for a bit.

  It had been a bit of a surprise to him, after he’d grown his beard long enough, that it had come out somewhat reddish in contrast to his dark blond hair. He liked it in everyday life, but he had to be careful what colour corrections he applied in case the two shades started looking ridiculous.

  Once he was satisfied, he tapped to upload. As he’d discovered with the SatNav, the signal wasn’t fantastic around here. Hopefully when he had enough bars the picture would find its way online soon enough.

  Looking out over the vista, he spun his keys around his fingers a few times. He was aware he was dithering on purpose, but he didn’t want to arrive before his family.

  Over the past few years, he hadn’t seen a lot of the Scouting community. But he felt like most of them had an edge to their attitudes. Apparently, they hadn’t been impressed when Phil Anderson’s middle son had chucked it all in after refusing to complete his Survival Skills activity badge.

  Riley may not have been a vegetarian, but he drew the line at catching and eating fluffy bunny rabbits.

  Being on the outs wasn’t an unusual position for him; he very rarely felt like he belonged anywhere. But the kind of people who gravitated towards Scouting and Guiding seemed to be those who were overtly proud of how down to earth they were. They revelled in being able to survive without the frills that Riley found so comforting. Which was fine, he admired them for their hardiness. He just wished they wouldn’t make him feel like such a bloody poof for wanting a cappuccino instead of instant coffee. Or for buying designer jeans rather than ones from Tesco with no shape in the arse.

  And it wasn’t like he’d been totally shit at it all. There were plenty of arts and crafts badges he’d managed to rack up. Not to mention one on meteorology, and a sporty one he’d been able to get just by running, like that was hard? But true Scouting meant roughing it under the stars. Considering this was England and the stars were often blotted out by massive rain clouds, Riley had made the decision several years ago that it really wasn’t for him.

  He shook his head as he slipped back into his old car and clicked the seatbelt across himself. So what if he had nothing in common with the rest of the group? If his family weren’t there, he’d just keep to himself and let everyone else say what they liked until the people he cared about arrived. It was undoubtedly going to take him an age to put his tent up anyway. No matter how easy the internet assured him this particular model would be.

  It was a surprise to see his Instagram post had gone through. So he sat in the car another few minutes so he could upload to Facebook and Twitter as well. The route popped back up quicker this time too. He figured maybe the higher altitude was working in his favour.

  With his tunes on loud again and a big gulp of tepid water, he slotted the car into gear and pulled back onto the road.

  The last sign of what you might be able to call civilisation before Turner Hall Farm was the tiny town of Seathwaite. Scafell Pike, the big hilly thing that made up the area’s main landmark, loomed as Riley carefully made his way through the narrow streets.

  He felt a genuine shudder as he imagined growing up in a place like this. It was beautiful in a Thomas Hardy novel sort of way, but it brought a whole new meaning to the term ‘only gay in the village’. It made where he grew up in Farnborough, Hampshire, look like a thriving metropolis. It was just so isolated. Did they even have broadband out here? They definitely didn’t have Uber.

  Riley moved his car through the already opened gate before anyone caught him openly gawping for any sign of an off licence or even a post office. It just seemed to be farm, farm and more farm. At least the sheep were endearing, hopping about in the sunshine without a care in the world.

  The GPS said he was only a couple of minutes from where he’d be spending the next week. Turner Farm was actually very picturesque from what he’d been able to gather from various online searches. With lots of rolling slopes, craggy rocks and charming local flora and fauna. Even if he couldn’t post them until he got back, he was bound to get a decent camera roll out of all this abundance of nature.

  All in all, when he came upon what appeared to be the place, he was in higher spirits than he would have previously imagined. Except, there was only one little dirt and gravel track into the site. Slap bang in the middle of that was sat a gleaming, pristine white, Winnebago.

  It looked more like a spaceship than a motor home. Riley instinctively looked up to see if he could spy the Enterprise. Failing that, he thought maybe Kayne might be on tour and turned in apprehension of the paparazzi.

  Having amused himself, he flittered between several emotions. Jealousy that someone had such a state of the art bit of kit. Annoyance that they had somehow cheated when Riley had done his best to play by the rules and slum it. And incredulity that they had blocked the entire entrance to the campsite.

  He honked his horn twice in swift succession. But although there were a few tents already pitched, he couldn’t see any human beings beyond the silver monstrosity looming before him. He sucked on his teeth and looked around again. He really just wanted to park and get settled. He knew he’d feel better when he got his little corner set up how he wanted it. Then he could chill out on a deck chair in the last couple of hours of daylight with a cold beer.

  He didn’t seem to have many options. Other than getting off the worn little road before the turning, but that would mean churning up the grass. Riley didn’t think that was particularly eco-friendly. It was probably parched from lack of rain, it didn’t need his banger of a car ripping it from the dry earth as well.

  He sighed so loudly it was probably more of a growl and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want to be a prick, but he still honked his horn again. “Hello?” he bellowed with his eyes closed. His music was loud enough he thought he would have garnered some attention anyway by now. He turned it up again.

  There was always the option to get out of the car and go look for someone. But he couldn’t shake the urge that he just wanted to unpack now. He didn’t want to faff around, getting drawn into polite chit-chat with people. He’d made the journey and no
w came the setting up and then he could sit back and relax. Doing it in another order would make his skin crawl.

  Leaving his eyes closed helped keep the anxiety at bay. Taking deep breaths in and out, he picked at a hangnail on his thumb and bounced his feet on the floor of the car. “Hello?”

  The vibration of someone drumming their hands on his bonnet made him snap his eyes open. His body jarred against his seatbelt in panic. “Riley!” the guy shouted, throwing his large hands up in the air in a gesture that he could only interpret as pure delight. He moved around to the window and pointed at the stereo. “I’ve been calling you. You made it!”

  He was about his height. But whereas Riley was slender with only a fine layer of muscle, the dude currently hanging on his car door was buff as all hell. With thick, tattooed biceps and perky pecs underneath his Bruce Willis-style white vest.

  It was his open smile that really gave him away though, as well as that easy-going skip in his step he’d even when he was standing still. Hair so dark it was practically black, square jaw, small but sparkling eyes…

  Riley’s stomach dropped like a stone. It couldn’t be, surely? No one had said anything about him coming. Yet here he was, as impressive as he ever had been before he’d turned into a fully-grown man. Over six foot of golden skin and easy laughter and never-ending optimism.

  “Kai?” His voice sounded pathetic to his own ears.

  It was official. Forget the camping and the insects and the dubious food and the lack of power sockets.

  This was his damnation right here.

  4

  Kai

  Riley Anderson. He was taller and had lost his childish angles. But Kai had no doubt that this was Brendon’s little brother. There was no mistaking that mop of blond hair or the wide, hazel eyes which were now visible after he’d yanked his sunglasses off and turned back to look at Kai.

  Riley just gawped for a second, then scrambled to turn his music down to a more sociable level.