Page 61 of Merry & Bright
Cam turned round at that, his expression embarrassed. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, was I being rude?”
“Yes, you were a bit,” Rob replied with a shrug. “But it sounds like a decent enough plan. Let’s give it a try.”
Cam looked relieved. “Okay. Thanks. And sorry—I’m just a bit stressed out, I suppose.”
Rob concealed his surprise at the apology, giving his attention to the car instead. It was a big, heavy Volvo Estate. He went to the rear as directed, while Cam took up position at the driver’s open door, leaning inside to grab the wheel with one hand while keeping his feet outside, so he could push and steer simultaneously.
“Ready for me to let the handbrake go?” he called over his shoulder.
Rob braced himself against the car’s cold, wet surface. “Yeah,” he called back.
“Okay, here we go!”
A second later, the weight of the car sagged back against him. Rob started shoving as hard as he could, as did Cam. Their combined efforts soon countered the downward rolling force of the car. And then, remarkably, it began to inch forward. Soon they were moving slowly and steadily up the hill.
“That’s it!” Cam yelled. “Keep it up—I’m going to start steering into the lay-by in a sec’.”
Two minutes later, the car was safely off the road, handbrake on again, and they were facing each other, panting.
“Thanks,” Cam said at last. “I really appreciate your help with that.”
“It’s fine,” Rob said. “But what now? You can’t just leave it there—do you want to come back to the house to call your recovery guys? There’s no mobile reception round here.”
“I, uh—” Cam looked embarrassed. “I don’t actually have any breakdown cover—it ran out. So I was thinking that I’d just leave it tonight. Maybe see if the garage in Inverbechie will tow it for me after New Year.”
“Joe might do it for you tomorrow, if you ask him nicely,” Rob said. When he clocked the blank expression on Cam’s face, he added, “Joe owns the garage.”
“Oh...yeah.” Cam gave a weak smile. “I’ll, uh, sort that out.” He cleared his throat then added, “Thanks again. I’d better get going now before this snow gets any worse.”
He turned then, to pop the boot of the Volvo open. The movement activated a small, weak light inside the car, revealing a generous space that was empty but for a rucksack, a pair of walking boots and a bottle of wine, currently nestling inside one of the boots. Cam extracted the bottle and tucked it in his rucksack before pulling out the boots and setting them on the ground.
“I should have changed into these before,” he said ruefully.
It was only then that Rob realised that Cam was wearing a pair of thin-soled canvas shoes with no socks and what looked to be skinny trousers. Although Rob knew absolutely nothing about fashion, he’d read enough Sunday newspaper supplements to realise this was going-out wear, and in that second his mind made the connection.
“Oh, shit, you were supposed to be going to Gomorrah tonight—”
“Yeah.” Cam shrugged as though it didn’t matter, but even in the dark Rob could see how crestfallen he looked. “Guess it wasn’t to be. I got as far as the Rest but the road was blocked by a landslide.”
“Christ, another one?”
“Yup—the police have already closed off the road. So, even if the car hadn’t broken down, I’d’ve had to go round by Oban, and now”—Cam gestured at the sky—“well, it’s getting on for blizzard conditions.” He gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I think maybe someone up there’s trying to tell me something.”
There was no missing the betraying crack in his voice right then. However good a face Cam was putting on tonight’s setbacks, Rob could tell that he was far from philosophical about the situation.
“Listen,” Rob said tentatively. “Why don’t you come back to the cottage for a bit? I was just about to make dinner. You could have a bite to eat with me and a glass of wine—I bet you haven’t got anything in the fridge at your place, have you?”
Cam cleared his throat awkwardly. “I don’t want to put you out—” he said, but there was a wistful note in his voice as he trailed off.
“You won’t be putting me out,” Rob said firmly. “And later on, when the snow stops, I’ll drive you home. Or if you feel like it, we could even go down to The Stag.”
Cam frowned and opened his mouth to protest but before he could say anything, Rob jumped in again. “But you can decide about that later. For now, just come and get some dinner, okay? And phone your sister—I presume you need to call her?”
Cam groaned. “Fuck. Yes, I do. She’ll be gutted.”
He glanced up the hill, probably calculating how long it would take him to walk home in this God-awful weather. Then he looked back at Rob, and said, uncertainly, “If you’re sure, some dinner would be great.”
And in that moment, it seemed to Rob that he was seeing a Cam McMorrow he’d never seen before. One that wasn’t the least bit brusque or overbearing or arrogant. One that was, in fact, pretty unsure of himself, and right now, in need of a friend.