The fields fell down into the valley below the sun which soaked into every inch of the slope on which she sat. She stretched her legs out in front of her, propping herself on her hands. Reaching back into the grass, she felt it spiky under the palms of hands, the ground rock hard beneath. She looked out along the valley and imagined she was sitting in a great green armchair, a giant reading lamp hanging above her head. It was so very hot. Behind her there was a thin hedge of trees that would have provided ample shade, but there was a gulley around the field edge, and she didn’t fancy sitting in the sheep poo that bordered it.
He was looking into the distance, his eyes moving around knowingly, as though he knew where they were in the scheme of things. He was trying so hard to look conscientious and in control. The truth was that only she knew where they were, and where they were going. She’d let him have this one, pretending he was important. She knew that he knew, how important this all was to her. After a moment of standing and staring, he nodded to himself, as though decided on their next imaginary move. He took off his rucksack and crouched to the ground. She watched his calves flex; he did have remarkably good legs.
She watched him as he fished around in the rucksack, pulling out a heavy flask. He had insisted on carrying it, after she had told him how she’d always wanted to but could never stand the extra weight. Her eyes looked out to the valley. It had been overcast when they had started out, a faint chill in the end. Her mind flickered over the idea of hot coffee on her tongue. She looked up to where the sun was belting down on them. Hot coffee was really the last thing she wanted, but she couldn’t bring herself to refuse it, he was trying so hard.
He pulled out two cups and busied himself with pouring them. She noticed the soft pink of sunburn resting on the curve of his cheekbones and where his t-shirt met his neck. She would put some sun lotion on him before I moved on. He would hate it, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. As he poured, she heard a strange, but strangely familiar noise. She looked over to where she thought it came from and saw a male pheasant, pacing in the far corner of the field, down in the gulley.
The pheasant was strutting, as important as a puff-chested city banker. She’d come across so many before. They were daft creatures, it was all made-up bravado, and it entertained her. From somewhere in the other field came a sudden answering call and he paused. After a moment, because everything takes a moment for pheasants, he turned and walked down the field. He found a gap in a wiry fence, dotted with sheep fleece, and found his way out. Hopefully he would find her.
She scanned the fence around the field, looking for the dark peach and blue of a bullfinch. They were her favourite birds, and they had been here on her last visit. She had watched one as it had bellowed its song, moving further down the fence each time she got close to it. As though he were a handsome boy at a party, trying to avoid her attention. She had barely heard its song, she remembered, her head full of Radio 4 comedy being thrummed through noise cancelling headphones. She thought of the man next to her, it was all different now.
She felt the imperceptible breeze of his hand moving through the heavy air, a cup proffered to her. She took it and gave him an appreciative, reassuring smile, as though this is exactly what she wanted. As she took the cup, she purposefully grazed his hand, any excuse to touch him. He adjusted himself and sat down next to her. As he did, her eye caught on the way his t-shirt tightened over his shoulder, and the sweat-soaked hair that curled at the nape of his neck. Under any other circumstances she would happily kissed him right there, nibbling his neck while she did so. But with the ridiculously hot coffee in her hands, she was suddenly far too hot to move.
She happily placed the coffee on the ground and opened a large lunch box between them. They dug into cheese and pickle sandwiches, and ready salted crisps, in a soft, companionable silence. She glanced at his face as he looked down over the valley. It was so easy to be quiet with him, but it still felt so strange. No one ever mentioned this, that falling in love meant finding someone who did not make you nervous, or worried, or self-conscious. Maybe, it was even more than that. Your mind just stopped churning as quickly, as readily. As though by finding someone who understood you, removed the need for you to keep proving yourself, explaining yourself, talking endlessly to make yourself valid. It was, peaceful.
He became aware of her watching him and turned to catch her gaze, he smirked at her, and she smiled happily through a mouthful of sandwich. As his gaze drifted out to the rest of the field her eyes came to rest on the ground around her. A multitude of creatures crawled in the grass where they sat. She watched a caterpillar investigating her walking boot. He had made it as far as her laces by the time she had finished her sandwich. She plucked him off carefully and placed him on the ground far behind her.
He sipped at his coffee, watching her do all of this. Not that she noticed. When she turned back, she caught his eye, and smiled, again. It was so easy to smile when he looked at her. She drank some of the coffee, cooler now, and began pointing out the different views around the valley. She noted the old trainline at the bottom of the hill, where they would be walking. But she didn’t say a great deal, she didn’t need to.
They worked their way through the crisps and some fruit. Despite the sun, they were cooling down after their long walk there. Their bellies were filling, and a tremendous sense of calm came over them both. It was sort of perfect, this too hot, too exhausting idea of a day. It was enough to be here together, knees bumping, hearing the other’s breath. The occasional sigh, with an exclamation of how beautiful the day had turned out to be, despite the heat.
She heard some field fares, though she didn’t see them. She pointed them out all the same. The field was mostly quiet, the creatures driven to ground by the heat no doubt. She looked further down the field into the chaotic patches of parched grass and saw a familiar, but unusual brown lump. The longer that she looked the more curious she became. She got to her feet and walked gently, following her eyes to the space where the brown spot lay. When she was a few metres away she saw a brown duck, resting, sunbathing in the warmth. Or maybe not? Maybe she was stranded? It was, after all, far too hot to fly.
She wondered how she had gotten here, and panic rose as she wandered if she should help. She heard his voice call out to her with urgency, and she yelled back. She watched as he got up and began to chase the faint sound of her panic down the hill. But it wasn’t needed. As she turned back, the duck took off into the sky. It was only then, as she watched the duck go, that she saw it. A pond glinting in the distance. She did not remember it being there before.
She felt bad for scaring the duck away. She had just come for the view maybe, for some rest, away from the wrestling egos of male ducks down on the water. She hadn’t meant to disturb her, she thought sadly, reading through her feelings. He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms comfortingly around her waist as she watched the duck go disappear into the distance. She felt his breath at her neck and sighed deeply, thinking about how nice it was, to finally have someone, to share all this with.
Unstuck Monsters 