Chapter 19

"Ok, I think I might have a suggestion." I was staring intently at the map on my laptop while James cleared up plates. Most of the meal had gone by with me being deeply immersed in my research for our road trip, the only interruptions had been when James patiently reminded me not to forget to eat. He seemed mildly amused at my sudden, fervent planning and childish excitement.

"Okay, let's have a look," he said and sat down next to me by the kitchen table.

"Well, obviously, London first," I said, pointing at the screen. "We leave relatively early tomorrow morning, and drive to Cambridge and all the way up to York, we can stay the first night there right? Have a meander around York the next morning, it's such an old city, if memory serves I think Norwegian Vikings kind of captured it a bit at some point. Anyway, after York we can go up to Newcastle? Stay the second night there." I trailed my finger along the route as I explained. "See a bit of Newcastle the next day, whatever that is, must be something to see, then drive over to Carlisle in the afternoon, get into bed bright and early. Pray for good weather and spend the next day driving through the Lake District, been dying to go there, seems so pretty. I thought we could head for Liverpool along the coast.."

"Liverpool? What's in Liverpool?" He protested.

"Beatles!" I shouted.

"Oh god, don't tell me you're dragging me on a Beatlemania tour, are you?" He despaired.

"Just a little bit?" I begged, batting my eyelashes at him. "I can go on my own, we can install you at a pub or a museum or something-" I began.

"All right, fine, Liverpool it is." He rolled his eyes at me, but was smiling all the same.

"Thank you." I gave him a peck on the nose. "After that I'm a bit unsure, really. We could go down to Cardiff but that would mean going straight through Hereford... "

"I think we can manage to sneak through Hereford without Hammond spotting us," James laughed, understanding what I was worried about

"I knoooow, I know, but.. " I sighed.

"What's the alternative?" James urged.

"Maybe go to Birmingham, stop by Stratford-Upon-Avon, you know, Shakespeare and everything-"

"I am aware of Shakespeare, yes," James nodded.

".. And then Oxford, through the Cotswolds and back to London?" I finished, looking at him with nervous hopefulness.

"Jezza lives in the Cotswolds," he pointed out, and my shoulders sagged. "I'm joking! How about, when we get to Liverpool, we just see what we feel like? Maybe we'll go down to Cardiff, or we can go just straight down to Birmingham. We don't have to decide right now?"

"I reckoned that you'd refuse to go anywhere unless we had everything meticulously planned down to who was driving which stretches of road," I smirked.

"Emily, I might have OCD on a lot of things, but road-trips isn't one of them. If I had, I'd never be able to do Top Gear, I'd go mental!"

"Hmm, I see what you mean." I agreed. "Okay, let's just... Decide when we're there."

"Now that we've decided where we're going - what car do you want to take?" I stared at him, eyes widening as I realised what I potentially had to chose from.

"Bloody hell, I haven't even thought about that! I... I have no idea. How about you choose? They are after all your cars, and I chose where we're going."

"I think... Ferrari. I think going on a road-trip warrants a good car."

"Really? I'm going to hate myself for arguing but, in winter England?"

"It'll be fine, we're not off-roading through the Lake District? Mostly motorways and normal dual carriageways, it can handle that. You should've seen the roads I had to drive on with a Lamborghini Gallardo in Romania!"

"I did, I saw that episode, poor supercar! And you crashed it!" I laughed.

"I didn't! The other bloke crashed it, I was just driving!" He argued stupidly.

"M-hmm," I nodded, pretending to believe him. "Another thing, isn't that 458 rear-engined? We might need a bit of boot space?"

"It has got some in the front, actually, if we pack light it'll be fine. But bless you for knowing that," he added and kissed my forehead. "Speaking of packing, I better get started." He gave me a quick kiss on the forehead then disappeared upstairs to pack while I finished clearing up the kitchen. When I was finished I let Fusker in from the back garden and went upstairs.

"Did you pack long underwear?" I asked as I threw myself on the bit of the bed not covered in neat piles of clothes.
"What?" James head appeared from the closet.

"You know, thermals! Wool clothes!"

"Am I going to need that?" He looked at me wide-eyed and horrified.

"I don't know, maybe? If we're doing a ten mile hike somewhere I thought it might be a good idea?"

"I don't have long underwear," James said with disgust and extracted himself from his closet, then sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Lies. You went to the North Pole, James."

"In jeans. Besides, thermals like that, especially ones made of wool, it's awful, they're... itchy!" he whined.

"You're too sensitive, May," I scoffed and nudged him gently in the ribs with my foot. Before I had time to retract it he grabbed my foot and held it in a vice-like grip, threatening to tickle me. His face lit up in childish glee.

"Emily, I think we need to renegotiate the terms and conditions of this trip," he began, his finger inching closer to the sole of my foot. "Please tell me we're not going hiking?" I was already squirming and giggling hysterically just from the prospect of being tickled.

"No, no no no, we're not.. no hiking, I promise! Plea-hee-heeee-seeee, mercy!" I squealed, trying to wriggle free. Still chuckling at himself James let go.

"Didn't know you were that ticklish. Good to know." I was still giggling and trying to catch my breath. James went back to his closet and rummaged around.

"I wasn't being serious about hiking," I said, having calmed down from my laughing fit. "But the forecast is looking amazing, bright sunshine for days. If that actually holds up I thought maybe we could stop somewhere nice in the Lake District, have a picnic lunch? If we dress warm it might actually be nice."

"That sounds more like my sort of thing. All right, I'll pack one pair," he said, pointing at me with a pair of thermal long johns. "If I pack my sexy underwear, you better pack yours," he added as he tossed the thermals on top of the pile of clothes on the bed. I exploded in another fit of hysterics, rolling on the bed. James chose to ignore me, found a small suitcase and started to drop clothes into it.

"Oh fuck! I just realised I'll probably have to go to my apartment, need to repack into a smaller suitcase," I sighed as I once again had caught my breath. "The one I took to Norway was the biggest one I have, no way that'll fit into the Ferrari." I had been so busy planning the trip itself, excited at the prospect of driving wherever I wanted to, that I hadn't even considered my own packing. James was still piling things neatly into the suitcase.

"Want to go now or do it in the morning?"

"Preferably tomorrow. But we can't just drop by when we leave tomorrow because my gigantic suitcase will never fit in that car unless we strap it to the roof. So I should sort it tonight, really."

"Want me to drive you over there? Or you can just take the Fiat?" At this I looked up at him, surprised.

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure, if you think you can find your way. Or I can come with you?"

"No no, you don't have to do that," I said as I heaved myself up into a sitting position. "I'll just be in an out. If it's all right with you I'll go on my own, you finish packing." Suddenly feeling a bit stressed I gathered up clothes and things from here and there, stuffing it into the suitcase and began lugging it downstairs. I hadn't been mentally prepared for having to go outside, and I wasn't happy about it. But it was for a good thing, I was repacking so we could go on a road-trip and have fun, which made it easier.

"Sure you'll be okay?" James had followed me outside in just his t-shirt, and was shiver as he looked at me through the open car-door.

"I have sat-nav. And a phone. And a better sense of direction than you, sweetie," I smiled as I buckled in.

"Okay," he muttered, still not convinced, then leaned in for a quick kiss.

"Now fuck off, you're freezing," I smirked, and he hobbled off towards the door.

I was back a few hours later, and we spent a few hours scouting out hotels in the places we had decided to stay the night. Then we went to bed, talking ourselves to sleep about things we could do on our trip, and we fell asleep full of anticipation. The forecast turned out to be right, and we had bright sunshine from clear blue skies when we set out the next morning. I got my first amazing experience before we even left the street, as I suddenly found myself sitting in a Ferrari, and I squealed like an excited toddler at the sound of the engine. We quickly agreed on some basic rules for our road trip - the driver was driving, the passenger controlled the music. The person driving was not allowed to complain or otherwise about the music, and vice versa. This arrangement turned out to be quite educational for both of us, and at one point resulted in James unconsciously humming lyrics like "all the other kids with the pumped up kicks", causing me to roll around laughing. In York I spent all my time dragging James around between old Viking and medieval sites. And James had his payback ranting about bridge engineering in Newcastle as we meandered through the heart of the city. In Carlisle we hit upon a uncharacteristic compromise in going see Hadrian's wall and the Cathedral as well as an aviation museum. We headed early out of Carlisle and followed a scenic driving route through the lake district, made three times longer by having to stop all the time so I could jump out of the car and take photos. After a whole day of trekking from place to place in Beatles' footsteps in Liverpool we got absolutely plastered and was nearly caught shagging in a hotel elevator in the middle of the night. And spent the consequent day being very hung-over and not feeling up to much sightseeing of any kind, so we drove down to Birmingham very late in the day. In Birmingham James surprised me by having booked a suite in a ridiculously luxurious hotel, completely with balcony and huge bath tub. We never left that hotel room, and hence never got to see much of Birmingham. Our five days was up and we headed back to London. The days had sped past way too quickly, and I spent days after I came home just processing it, trying to land. But I couldn't. It always sounds like a cliché when someone claims it was the best day or week of their life, but to me it really had been. We'd talked and laughed, had intense discussions and argued amicably, and in short just gotten to know each other better. We'd seen beautiful cities and gorgeous landscapes, slept in soft hotel beds and had lots of good food. And masses of amazing sex. In short, we'd lived the good life, and coming back to London was a sudden and harsh change. I went back to work, and tried my best to focus on my upcoming exam in the end of January. And James went back to work, they had started to prepare and film bits for a new season of Top Gear. And he had his writing. But the transition to boring everyday life was tinted rose-red by being in love. The hours and sometimes days we had to spend apart I spent pining away, feeling very sorry for myself. And the time we spent together we cocooned ourselves into our own little world, having time for nothing and nobody else. Being with James was fun, and uncomplicated, being with him didn't take effort, I didn't have to think, just feel. And what I felt was in love.