The Road Trip: The heart-warming new novel from the author of The Flatshare and The Switch by Beth O'Leary (books to read now TXT) 📕

‘Pissing behind a tree!’ Marcus snorts, voice shaking with laughter. ‘Imagine her face when she comes back and we’re gone!’

‘Oh, no, oh, gosh,’ Rodney says, and I can hear that he’s stifling his laughter too.

We’re coming up to the next junction. I indicate, still giggling, kind of also crying, generally just feeling totally unhinged. Why the hell did I let Deb get out the car for a wee?

‘The traffic just hadn’t moved in so long!’ I say.

‘It was always going to move as soon as Deb got out,’ Dylan says. ‘It’s sod’s law.’

‘I’m an idiot,’ I say, still laugh-crying. ‘This was a terrible idea.’

‘You’re not an idiot,’ Dylan says, sobering. ‘You gambled and lost, that’s all. Or, you know, Deb did. Hey, there’s a Budget Travel Hotel – pull into their car park, maybe?’

I make a last-minute indicate and follow his direction. As I pull into a space in the car park and turn the key in the ignition, I realise I’m shaking.

Things don’t seem so funny, suddenly.

‘How will she know to find us here? Should we go looking for her?’

‘Let’s just try to think like Deb,’ Dylan says, as I twist around in my seat to look at the three of them.

Marcus is grinning into his fist, shaking his head. Rodney has his arms around himself in a sort of protective hug, like a kid on their first day of school. And Dylan is chewing thoughtfully at his lip. The sun catches across his face like the beam of a spotlight, turning his eyes pale lemon-lime, and more than anything I want to kick Rodney and Marcus out of this car and crawl into his lap.

It’s weird. Dylan was never the person I would turn to when I was upset. So it’s not a habit thing. Back when we were together, he was the last person I’d choose to cry on – mostly because when I was crying, it was because of him, and he’d not have a clue I was even upset. That was how we worked. We were so close but we barely told each other anything.

‘Think like Deb,’ I repeat. ‘OK. Well, she’s always practical. She’ll swear a bit, then she’ll go, what now?’

‘Maybe she’ll try and hitchhike?’ Rodney suggests. ‘Hail someone down?’

‘Maybe,’ I say slowly. ‘Or she might try and walk. I think she’ll assume we came off the motorway as soon as we could, right? How long would it take her to walk from where we dropped her to here? Rodney?’

Rodney busies himself clicking away on his phone.

‘We were driving for, what, a few minutes? It can’t be that long a walk?’

‘An hour,’ Rodney says. ‘It’s an hour’s walk, unless she cuts across the fields, which would save her some time.’

‘An hour’s walk?’ Marcus says, leaning forward to look at the phone over Rodney’s shoulder. ‘Are you sure your phone isn’t broken? All you do is tell us everything takes fucking for ever.’

‘Sorry,’ Rodney says, stretching the phone out for Marcus to look. ‘It’s just . . . what it says . . .’

Marcus rolls his eyes. ‘Well, I’m getting out,’ he says. ‘Deb isn’t the only one who needed a piss. Do you think that place has toilets?’

‘The Budget Travel? Yes, I think it probably does have toilets, Marcus,’ I say.

‘Excellent.’ He climbs out the car, shaking his damp T-shirt with two fingers, unsticking it from his body. ‘Ugh,’ he says, as he slams the door behind him.

‘Thoughts on driving off now?’ I say.

‘Deb, though,’ Dylan says.

‘Yeah. Damn,’ I say, watching Marcus amble his way towards the hotel entrance.

‘I am really sorry about him,’ Dylan says quietly.

Rodney unclicks his seat belt and shifts up into Marcus’s seat so he and Dylan have more room. They each sigh with relief.

‘Yeah, well. Marcus is Marcus,’ I say, still watching him go.

‘Do you two not like him?’ Rodney asks.

‘I don’t like him, no,’ I say flatly.

‘I don’t like him most of the time, either,’ Dylan says.

I glance at him, surprised.

‘He . . . he’s a complicated man. But he’s family, really. I’m holding out hope that one day he’ll turn things around and change. It’s just . . . When do you give up on a person, you know?’

‘When they’re bad for you,’ I say, before I can stop myself. ‘It’s like any relationship, romantic or friendship or family or whatever. If it’s toxic, you should walk away.’

‘I think . . .’ Dylan pauses, choosing his words carefully. ‘I think you step back when it’s toxic, certainly. But I’m not sure I would want to give up. Not if I thought there was good in someone, and that I might be able to help them find that good. Not once I’d recognised how the relationship was hurting me, and hardened myself to that.’

I look at him. I don’t agree with him – I don’t think you can harden yourself against the hurt someone like Marcus inflicts on people. But if I’ve learned anything over the last year or two, it’s that there’s no one way of dealing with pain.

‘Someone should stay here, in case Deb figures out where we’ve gone,’ I say after a moment. ‘But I think the rest of us should split up and go looking for her. If we all take our phones, there’s no harm in that, right?’

‘Marcus should stay here,’ Dylan says immediately. ‘He’ll definitely wander off if we leave him to it, then we’ll have two wedding guests to track down.’

I snort. ‘OK, fine. You tell him, would you? I’m going to go over the fields. I feel like I need to . . . do something.’

Dylan nods. ‘Are you happy to leave Marcus with the car keys?’

I pause for a moment. ‘Umm.’

‘Yeah,’ Dylan says.

‘He’s an adult,’ I say. ‘He wouldn’t drive off without us.’

We all think about it.

‘Maybe you should stay with him,’ I say. ‘Just in case.’

Dylan

The first emergency phone call comes from Rodney, approximately forty minutes