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‘No,’ I shout. ‘I don’t needa fucking parent, but I’d like the chance to explore, well the idea of him being, you know, where half of me comes from?’
I tug at the poles to release them from the flysheet, kneeling on the side to prevent the wind whipping it up.
‘At least you know he’s alive,’ she says, pointedly. ‘Why mither about it now?’
I glare at her as I fold the poles and slap them into their bag.
‘Well thanks for the friendly advice,’ I snarl, righteous anger rising. ‘Fucking easy for you to say, isn’t it?’
She pulls back, her arms over her chest. I start folding the tent, half lying on it to stop it blowing away. She watches me struggle then crouches to take one side.
‘You don’t know that it’s easy for me, do you?’ she says, handing me her half.
She looks down as I start to roll the tent. No, I’m thinking, I know literally nothing about you, and that suits me fine.
‘I’m adopted too, right?’ she says.
I start stuffing the tent in the bag, supressing a smug grin as I turn to look at her.
‘I’m not adopted, OK?’ I say, like she’s a child. ‘As in my mother’s a lesbian and that wanker was actually her sperm donor. OK?’
Her face turns thoughtful, like she’s processing the info. ‘Fair dos, it’s not the same. But it’s not a lot different.’
I take a deep breath, at least she’s not phased by the sperm donor thing, and I realise I am kind of interested. ‘So, did you trace your birth parents?’
‘They’re both dead.’ She crosses her arms over her chest again.
‘Sorry,’ I mutter, picking up the sleeping bag and casting round for its cover. Why am I apologising? Did I bring this up?
She scoops the cover from where it landed behind me.
‘I did meet my real dad, just a few weeks before he died. Came up here to escape thinking about it, I guess.’ She tenses her shoulders, suddenly all small and vulnerable.
‘Smart move bumping into me, then?’
‘Good distraction. The way I see it, every closed door opens another…?’ She nods like she’s convincing herself. ‘So where are you heading now?’
I stuff the sleeping bag into its sack. ‘I’m going home. In fact, can I ask a massive favour?’
‘I’m heading north, which isn’t homeward, right?’
‘No, I was just wondering if you could take the tent back to Don. Oh, and some money I owe him.’
Jez does a thinking pose with her finger on her mouth. ‘I’m heading to Durness, right at the top. You could take that open door and come with me?’
My jaw drops. ‘You what?’
‘Seize the day while you’re up here? It’s only about 120 miles and I’m told the roads are wicked past Ullapool.’
I shake my head, this girl’s a nut. ‘Thanks, but I’ll pass. I pretty much want to get the fuck back home.’
‘And what will you do when you get there?’
‘Go to bed?’
‘Crawl back to Mummy, right?’
I shake my head as I pull out the £50 for Don from my wallet and hold it out to her with the tent.
