My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding - By Katya Starkey Page 0,76
maps app?”
“I’m saying that without question.”
I jab my untrusting fiancé in the ribs gently. “I wouldn’t!”
“Face it, honey. You would.”
“Just give me that map.” I yank the folded up pamphlet from my annoying fiancé’s grasp. We’d met up with the other couples who were orienteering, back at Eastnor Castle. If I’m being honest, I’m tempted to agree with what Callum had said about this activity thing. A lot of the other couples at the castle hadn’t seemed like they were in very happy relationships. Not that I’m an expert at reading body language, but anyone could have cottoned on to the way the other couples stood well away from each other. Unlike Callum and I who had been canoodling with each other for the entirety of the orienteering introductions.
“Didn’t you say one of your GCSEs was geography?”
Callum shakes his head at my question. “Nope, geology.”
“Geology? How is that even a school subject?” I unfold the map like I’m shaking out a towel with whip and a crack, before handing it to Callum. “How is knowledge about the rocks we’re walking on going to get us unlost?”
“We’re not lost.”
Why do men with maps always say that?
“Oh we’re not, are we? So the panic didn’t set in as soon as the four by four dropped us off way out here? Because it sure as shit scared me.”
“Aw.” Callum takes me into his arms, squashing the paper map between us. “Don’t worry, my love. I won’t let the foxes get you.”
Making this comment would have been funny if at that precise moment the shrubbery beside us wasn’t suddenly violently shaking about.
“I’m out of here.” I exclaim, running quickly away. Callum may have been joking about foxes lurking about, but neither of us is sticking around to find out what’s behind that hedge.
About five minutes later I throw my hands up in disgust. “This is preposterous! How can there be this much mud after only one night’s rain?” My wellies have been sticking deep into the ground with every step I take. It’s like trying to sludge my way through jelly, living jelly with a sucker mouth that keeps trying to hold tight to my rubber boots every time I try to lift them back out again.
“Are you ready to give up?”
“Never!” I point a determined finger into the air. “I’ll find my way out of here if it kills us.”
Callum harrumphs loudly. “Speak for yourself, babe.”
“I’m speaking for the both of us, mister. Because if I die out here in the long lost wilderness, you will too.”
“Nonsense.” My senseless fiancé grabs me around the waste, nearly causing me to lose my footing. “I’ll eat your remains if you die first, and then I’ll survive.”
“Charming.” I guess I had better find us a way out of the wilderness before I become my fiancé’s last meal, and not in a sexy way either. “Come on,” I pull away from Callum and the mud. “There’s a trail here and we’re going to cross that field.”
“But there are cows in that field.”
“Yes, and?” I point a finger at the low wooden fence. “There’s clearly a step ladder here, so this entire field is a public footpath. We’re supposed to walk across it, honey. Cows or no.”
“We’re supposed to walk across it?” Callum protests, but follows me over the stepping fence anyway. “I don’t think those cows would agree. Oh, ugh.” He lifts his wellied foot after just having stepped in a cow pat.”
“Be careful, honey. That’s going to smell once we get home.”
“You think?” Carefully, he wipes his poo covered boot on the grass.
“Cal?”
“Yes, dear. I know cow poop stinks. I’m trying to get it off best I can—”
“No, Cal.” I think he hears the tremor in my voice, because my stinky-footed fiancé stops swiping his boot against the grass and looks up at me. “I don’t like the way that cow is looking at me.”
A brown and white cow is getting awfully close.
“Why are they all walking toward us, Cal?” I’m suddenly very worried.
“I don’t know. You’re the one who wanted to walk across this bloody field full of angry cows.”
Oh so now they’re angry cows and not just quietly grazing cows? “I think you’ve been playing Angry Birds on your phone app too much — oh my god look out!”
“Jesus, Em, run!”
My fiancé and I make a beeline for the opposite fence just as every cow in the field decides to stamped towards us.