HARRY

There's a sort of awkward silence for most of the morning. Ever since I left the sports centre, Chloe has been moody. She barely says two words as I walk back across the park and settle under the shade of the trees again. Typical fucking woman.

I'm starving. I haven't eaten anything since the sandwich in the posh cafe yesterday evening, but I can't be arsed starting a conversation if all Chloe is going to do is give me puppy dog eyes and apologise for everything she says or does. I don't know which is worse: trying to understand all these long words she insists on using all the time, or listening to the word sorry twenty fucking times every hour. She's afraid of her own fucking shadow.

She's so obsessed with knowing where I'm going next. I don't have a clue what the plan is. I'm just winging it; minute by minute, hour by hour. I don't have all the answers. I don't have any of the answers, yet she looks to me as the person in charge of her, the one who must make all the decisions. I don't know where I am, and I don't know where I should go. And without a phone to be able to google anything, I'm pretty much useless.

I've never been particularly good at coming up with detailed plans. I've always been a live in the moment sort of guy. I've never really had stability or security, and when you don't know where your next meal is coming from its kind of difficult to plan ahead. Until the last couple of years I've had to fend for myself. Then Sofia came along and changed all that. Suddenly the day to day running of my life was taken over. Meals are cooked, washing is done, home is clean. It is a world away from what I was used to, but I resent being bossed around like a small child, and nagged from morning til night. It is the price I pay for the housekeeping I suppose, but I hate the monotony and being beholding to anyone. At least Chloe doesn't nag - that's her one and only positive.

"I don't think we should stay here," she says suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. "I think we should get away from the station."

I look up, waiting for her to explain. I had momentarily forgotten I was a wanted criminal.

"If the police manage to track us to Totnes, they're going to fall over us here aren't they? We're literally a stone's throw from where we got off the train. Alright, we're sort of sheltered by these trees, but if you want to disappear properly we're going to have to move on somewhere more remote."

"Like where?" Why can't she just get to the fucking point?

"Are you still against the idea of a hotel? Even just for one night?" She can't hide the desperation in her eyes. It would be funny if it wasn't so pathetic and irritating.

"No hotels."

She sighs, pulling at the long grass with her slender fingers.

"Fine. Then if you're going to insist on making us sleep outdoors, we need to be comfortable." She looks up at me, as though waiting for me to encourage her conversation. I decide to be awkward instead, and just stare at her belligerently without saying a word. She clears her throat nervously. "Yesterday when we walked up the road to that little deli there was a camping shop. We could get a tent, big enough for both of us. Nothing too expensive, just something cheap. I've got two months' rent money, so we could use that to buy what we need. We could get sleeping bags and an air mattress or something to make the ground more comfortable. I'm sure there will be maps or guide books with suggested campsites and walking routes. We could get one and just keep travelling around. If you really, truly want to avoid detection we shouldn't stay in one place for too long. And camping is ideal for those looking for solitude."

I nod, and get to my feet. Finally, a suggestion worth realising. "OK."

She stares up at me from her position on the ground, a look of uncertainty on her face. "What... you like the idea?"

I shrug. "Makes sense. Come on." I pick up my holdall, giving it a discreet squeeze to check the contents are still safe. They are.

"Now?" She is staring at me in disbelief. She still hasn't moved.

"No, fucking next week. Of course now!" Stupid, I want to add, but manage to withhold it at the last second. My face probably gives me away though, because she jumps to her feet at my words, averting her eyes and picking up her own rucksack and swinging it onto both shoulders. I ignore her wounded look and stride off across the grass in the direction of the exit, following the same route as yesterday. The park is busier this morning, with mums pushing prams and toddlers wearing sunhats. It is looking like it's going to be another unbearably hot sunny day, and I keep my head down as I make for the car park, doing my best to avoid eye contact with anyone. I only look up when I reach the road, and a quick glance over my shoulder tells me Chloe is following a couple of metres behind me. I pick up my pace, keeping my eyes trained on the pavement as cars, vans and even a tractor passes us. We really are in Farmer Giles country - the smell of pig shit, or something equally as disgusting, is unmistakable. Looking back again just before I cross the road, I do a double take: Chloe is nowhere to be seen. I come to an immediate halt, shielding my eyes in the sunlight and scanning up and down the road for her. After a couple of seconds of a strange, nervous twinge in my stomach, I catch sight of her not far from the entrance of the park. She must have paused not long after I looked back the first time, reading what looks like a poster attached to a bus stop. I shift from my left foot, to my right foot, and back to my left again impatiently. I don't like standing still in full view like this. If a police car happens to be cruising by and sees me, the game is up.

After what seems like an eternity she turns away and begins walking towards me again, and once she is less than ten metres from me I check the road is clear of traffic and dart across to the other side towards the camping shop she spotted yesterday. I hear her footsteps jogging across the tarmac to catch me up, and just as we reach the door she mutters, "I was reading the bus timetable. The number twelve goes past here every twenty minutes. We can head out of town once we've got what we need."

No acknowledgement is necessary here - it's obvious I have heard her as she's less than a foot away from me. I enter the shop first, ignoring her grunt as the heavy door part-closes onto her. I swear I hear her mutter something like "chivalrous" under her breath, but I have no fucking idea what it means, or if she is even talking to me, so I ignore this too and make my way over to a display of tents in the middle of the shop.

There are four fully assembled, ranging in size from two-person (there's no way I would get my gangly body inside there, never mind both of us) to ten-person (it has fucking bedrooms for fuck's sake). After a minute or two of appraising the four specimens on offer, which includes standing and staring at each one with my hands on my hips and my head tilted to the side, in several different positions, a sales assistant approaches me.

"Can I help you today, sir?"

He sounds like fucking Farmer Giles. Is he taking the piss?

"Er, yeah. I'm looking for a tent."

"You've come to the right place, then!" He winks at me, grinning from ear to ear, and I stare at him. Why is he so happy? Is he laughing at me? "What kind are you after? We stock several different brands: Airgo, Highlander, EasyCamp. You looking for anything specific?"

"I need to sleep in it."

The assistant throws his head back and laughs jovially, which adds to my unease. Before I can ask him what the fuck his problem is, Chloe appears at me side, her face wearing a matching beaming smile.

"As you can probably tell, we're sort of new to this," she explains, apologetically, and the man beams back at her.

"Not to worry, not to worry at all! If you're looking for something easy to assemble I can recommend some beginners tents. How big do you want?"

"Nothing too heavy to carry," she muses, tapping her finger against her chin. "But enough space so we're not on top of each other."

"Bet you wouldn't be too bothered about that eh," he winks at me, nudging my side with his elbow before turning back to Chloe, who laughs nervously, her eyes a little wide and strained. I stare at them both in complete bewilderment and she darts a terrified glance at me before looking away again. "I would probably recommend a four-man tent, then," he continues as though it is normal to be this happy around strangers. "You'll have a separate room for sleeping, but also a living space to keep your things so you've got a bit of room to move. And this model here -" he leads us over to a corner of the shop where the tents are packed up in special carriers and stacked on a shelf - "is super lightweight. It's made of the lightest material and designed for hikers, to be carried in a bespoke backpack. Perfect for walking and cycling holidays."

Chloe looks at me for input but I give her a helpless look so she nods her approval at the sales guy. "Sounds great. We'll have that one. We'll need a couple of sleeping bags, and an air bed..."

I leave her to arrange all this stuff, and while they are discussing togs or some shit I wander round the shop, looking at all the camping gear they have for sale. Who knew it was such a complicated affair, and required so much stuff? Knives, stoves, cooking pots, boots, waterproof everything, ties, ropes, poles... the displays are endless. My gaze falls on a shelf of books next to the till, and I pick up a copy of A Walker's Guide to South Devon and flick through it. It has maps, just like Chloe said, and pages of information that I can't be arsed reading but will probably be useful. I put it on the counter just as Chloe comes up behind me, and the assistant starts scanning all the equipment through the till. I reach into a side pocket of my holdall and discreetly pull out a few hundred quid - enough to cover the bill.

"I'll get this," I mutter, feeling awkward for some reason which I can't understand, and she looks at me in surprise.

"But -"

"It's fine."

She seems to know not to make a scene and steps back to allow me to make the purchase. Once complete, I stuff my change into the pocket of my jeans.

"Do you need a hand carrying this?" the guy asks, as I haul the specially designed backpack containing the tent over my shoulder, and Chloe picks up the carrier bags containing the rest of our purchases.

"I got it."

He nods, and gives us a jaunty wave. "Thanks very much. Enjoy!"

Shaking my head at his strange over-friendliness I exit the shop, turning right towards the posh café from yesterday. My stomach is growling with hunger; it is almost lunchtime.

Chloe looks confused for a moment as I make a beeline for the door, but quickly shifts back into step beside me and follows me into the cafe.

"I'll get this," she offers after we have placed our order and taken a seat in a quiet corner.

I shrug. "Whatever."

"Thanks for buying all that stuff," she says, after a moment of awkward silence. "You didn't have to. I would have bought them."

"Two months' rent money isn't going to get you very far," I point out, gruffly. "I've got cash. Plenty of cash. You don't need to worry about it."

She looks as though she is about to ask questions, but stops when she looks at my face. She quickly closes her mouth again and looks down at the table top, and I catch sight of my expression in the reflection of the window. I am frowning so hard my entire forehead is creased: I hadn't even realised I was doing it. I try to relax, but it's harder than it sounds when you're thinking about it.

Our lunch arrives, and just before she takes a bite of her sandwich she says, "I see you picked up a hikers' guide book. Is there anywhere you want to go, in particular?"

I shrug again. "You're the walking fucking atlas. You tell me."

She eyes me for a moment, wiping her hands on a paper napkin, before reaching into the carrier bag and retrieving the book. She says nothing for a couple of minutes while she flicks through the pages; looking at the index, then reading the map, then browsing the text. 

"You seemed to like the idea of the sea...?"

"Free bath, innit."

I can't tell if it is a look of disgust or amusement that passes briefly over her face. Out loud she says, "I'll give you two days of bathing in unheated salt water before you change your mind on that. But alright - if you want to go to the sea, we'll go to the sea."

Fucking camping, in a synthetic, sweaty tent, with some bird I barely even know who quakes in her shoes every time I look at her the wrong way, and the sea the only way of keeping clean. If Sofia could see me now she'd piss her pants laughing, if she could stop nagging me long enough to crack a smile.

And forty-five minutes later we are boarding a bus apparently on our way south to Dartmouth; our stomachs full and our camping equipment safely tucked onto the seat beside us.

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Merry Christmas Eve Eve! Hope you're enjoying the updates! Thanks for the votes and comments so far xxx