Thank you for the sweet reviews :)

Chapter 9

The coffee was already beginning to turn cold in his hand, but John was so lost in his thoughts that it took him a while to remember the beverage. He sipped it and instantly pulled a face when he realized he had made it too strong even for his own ruined taste buds. Today just wasn't his day. John hadn't actually thought much about it beforehand, but once he had woken up his morning it had hit him like a hammer over the head. Today was Amy's birthday.

John sipped his coffee quietly despite the taste, wishing he could tell her happy birthday, wishing he could tell her that he loved her, that it hadn't been her fault, that she shouldn't worry about him. But even if there was a way to contact her without giving away where he was, John wouldn't know how. He had lost his phone on the beach that night and he had never bothered to learn a phone number by heart. Still John couldn't bring himself to regret the night he had run away.

"You're up," Clara's voice made him turn around and he watched her climb down the ladder of the bunk bed.

"I've made coffee if you're brave enough."

She tottered towards the kitchen area and poured herself a cup of coffee before she slid into the seat across from him with a yawn. John waited until she finally took a sip and her face turned into a grimace of disgust. He was hardly able to hold back the laughter.

"Good God!" she blurted out and she looked as if she was only just resisting the urge to spit the brew back into the mug. "This could bring people back from the dead."

John chuckled at her reaction.

"Seriously," Clara said, pointing at the mug in front of her, "If you keep the spoon in long enough, it will dissolve."

"Well, it dissolved the six sugars I put in," John remarked and raised his mug back to his mouth when he suddenly became aware of how intently Clara was watching him.

"You're sad," she remarked after a moment.

John uttered a nervous laugh. "I'm not. I'm making jokes. I'm laughing. What makes you think I'm sad?"

"The smile looks a bit forced."

With a sigh John set the mug down for good and lowered his gaze even though he wasn't quite sure why. Clara had already seen through him. There was no point in pretending otherwise.

"It's my best friend's birthday today," he admitted, "And I can't be there to celebrate with her."

Clara shrugged and granted him a smile. "You could call her."

"Lost my phone."

"Oh," she uttered and fell silent for a moment, "Well, does she have other friends? Family?"

"Yeah," John confirmed, "Her husband has been planing her present for months."

"It's not so bad then, is it? I mean, she'll be among friends and family and you can just tell her happy birthday when you get back. I'm sure she'll understand."

John forced himself to smile once more. When he got back, if he got back, Amy would never speak to him again for the rest of her life. He had fucked it all up.

To his surprise Clara rose from her seat and held out her arms while John only eyed her in confusion.

"Come here," she prompted him, "Let me give you a hug."

"Why?" he asked, not entirely sure what he had done to deserve one.

"Just let me, okay?" Clara rolled her eyes and made a waving hand gesture, indicating for him to finally get off his arse and hug her.

Eventually John rose from his seat and approached her carefully. He wasn't really the hugging type, but right now he didn't mind the idea all too much. Gently Clara wrapped her arms around his neck, and she had to go up on tiptoes to reach it, while John reluctantly folded his arms around her back. It wasn't a bad feeling, not at all. Quite the contrary. When Clara squeezed him a little more tightly John felt himself lean deeper into the embrace, burying his face in her shoulder and for a moment just enjoying the warmth that came from her body. John had known Clara only for a few days, but he could already tell that he couldn't have chosen a better companion to travel with. Somehow Clara was just exactly what he needed right now.

"It's my Mum's birthday, too," she admitted after a while and eventually, after what had seemed like minutes, Clara released him from the embrace.

"Do you want to call her?" John found himself asking.

In response Clara granted him a smile, but it was a sad one. "I wish I could."

Somehow he understood. It was that look on her face, that sentiment that he knew all too well. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

"I think I'll give my grandma a call," Clara determined, "If you turn out to be a Venezuelan drug smuggler and we end up in prison, someone should know where I am, don't you think?"

"Is she rich enough to post our bail?"

Clara shook her head.

"Then don't bother."

"I'll keep it short. You can make breakfast in the meantime," she said while she reached for her phone and before John could reply anything else, he watched her head out of the camper van.

John looked at the door even after it had closed already, unable to tear his gaze away. He liked her. He really, really liked her.

hr

"Hey Grandma, it's me," Clara smiled into the phone as soon as her grandmother had picked up, "Guess where I am!"

"Hello dear," she responded and Clara instantly realized that she still sounded a little sleepy.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"Not at all. I was just on my way to make tea when the phone rang," she replied, "Where are you? Still that American style diner in Dorset?"

"Nope," Clara grinned proudly even though her grandmother couldn't see it. "I'm doing it. I'm finally doing it. I'm travelling."

There was a silence on the other end of the line and somehow Clara knew what was about to follow because they had had this conversation before. But she'd be damned to let her grandmother ruin it for her. If she didn't support Clara, no one would.

"I'm in Denmark. Heading for Norway in a bit," she explained, "I'm excited."

"Are you alone?" her grandmother wanted to know.

"No," Clara admitted. But how was she supposed to explain John to her? Her grandmother was likely to call the police if she knew that her granddaughter was travelling the world with a complete stranger in a camper van. "With a friend. We both just wanted to get away for a bit."

Her grandmother sighed in reply. "You've been away for a bit, Clara. Several months actually. Don't you think that it's time to come home?"

"I can't," she replied heavily, "Not yet. I've been wanting to travel for so long. I just want to see the world before it's too late."

"Clara, you have your whole life-"

"That's what Danny said," Clara hissed sharply, "And where is he now?"

Her grandmother hesitated before she spoke.

"I love you and you will always have my support, you know that," she said after a moment, "But can I worry about my only granddaughter for a moment? You had a beautiful flat, a great job. I want you to see the world, but not if it means throwing your life away for that."

"I didn't throw anything away. I merely. . . pressed pause. I'll come back, I promise. There's nothing wrong with just drifting for a while."

Clara could tell her grandmother a lot of things, but not everything that had gone through her head since Danny. She wouldn't understand. She would worry, but she wouldn't understand. For months Clara had felt as if she had been trapped in a cage where her only company had been an hourglass and she had watched her life pass her by. Now she was living it again, the only way she knew how to. She just wanted to feel something that wasn't boredom.

"I'll be back, I promise," she told her grandmother, "Let me explore the world for a bit. Danny would have wanted that for me."

All her grandmother uttered was a sigh and Clara bit down on her lip. It was a lie, a big, fat lie. Danny would have called her insane for running off to Norway with a stranger, but her grandma didn't need to know that.

"I'll send you a postcard."

"I'll only accept the prettiest you can find."

"As good as done," Clara chuckled and turned around to face the motorhome. John would have prepared breakfast by now and in a few hours they would be in yet another country she hadn't seen before. "I'll call you. Bye."

Clara hung up and inhaled deeply. Nothing and no one would spoil this trip for her, not when she was so determined to enjoy herself. Finally, after 28 years, it felt like her life had begun at last.