Last-Minute Proposal

Campbell frowned as he headed across the hillside, cutting down from the track so that they had to leap between clumps of heather. At least, Tilly did. Campbell just carried on walking as if he were on a pavement. Tilly had never met anyone as surefooted. There was a kind of dangerous grace about the way he moved, and it made her feel even more of a lumbering walrus than she did normally.

He was obviously incredibly fit, too. Look at him-he wasn’t even out of breath, thought Tilly, aggrieved, while she was puffing and panting and tripping over heather and generally making it obvious that she was extremely unfit.

‘Why were your brothers so keen to get you on the programme?’

‘They’ve got this bee in their bonnet that I’m in a rut,’ puffed Tilly, struggling to keep up with him. ‘I was thirty earlier this year and you’d think I was about to cash in my pension the way they’re carrying on about my missed opportunities!’

‘Are you in a rut?’

‘If I am, it’s a very comfortable one,’ she said with an edge of defiance. ‘I’m perfectly happy doing what I’m doing, and I haven’t got time to worry about ruts. The boys only think that because they’ve been away at university, and they’ve got this idea that Allerby is boring-although I notice they don’t mind coming back when they’re short of money and in need of some good square meals,’ she added tartly.

Of course, Campbell would probably think an attractive market town in North Yorkshire was boring, too. He didn’t look like a provincial type. He would stand out like a tiger amongst a lot of fat, pampered pets in Allerby, for instance.

On the other hand, he didn’t look like a true townie either. Tilly couldn’t imagine him going to the theatre or sipping a cappuccino. His military background probably explained that slightly dangerous edge to him, but then what was he doing here?

There was one easy way to find out.

‘So what are you doing here? You don’t seem the kind of bloke who does things he doesn’t want to do.’

‘I seem to have ended up doing this,’ said Campbell sourly. ‘I’m Chief Executive of Manning Securities.’

‘The sponsors of the show?’

‘Exactly,’ he said, without once breaking pace. ‘Keith, my PR Director, convinced me that the show would be good for our image. Personally, I’d have thought it was more effective just to give the money to charity, but Keith was adamant that this would have a greater impact. It fitted with our ethos of corporate social responsibility and, as I didn’t think I’d have to be involved myself, I gave the go-ahead.’

‘You look pretty involved now,’ Tilly commented, and he grunted a reluctant acknowledgement.

‘Not out of choice. This is Keith’s fault. He rang me yesterday morning, saying that one of the contestants had had to withdraw because he’d broken his leg and that the production team were desperate for a last-minute replacement with survival skills.’

‘That was Greg,’ said Tilly. ‘I met him last week when I learnt I’d got through to this round. They said he was an experienced Outward Bound instructor and a vegan, so I suppose they thought he would make a good contrast with me. He seemed a nice enough guy, but I can’t tell you how relieved I was when I heard he’d broken his leg. I thought I’d have the perfect reason to withdraw, and then they partnered me with you!’ Her expression was glum.

‘Glad I was such a nice surprise!’ said Campbell with a touch of acid.

‘Well, you can’t pretend you’re exactly thrilled at being stuck with me for the next couple of days,’ she pointed out.

‘I’m not thrilled to be doing this at all,’ he said. ‘I’m moving to a new job in the States in a few weeks, so I’ve got better things to do than mess around with television challenges. But Keith is very committed to the project and, as he knows that I used to be in the forces, he was piling on the pressure to get me to agree to help out.’

‘If you didn’t want to do it, why didn’t you just say so?’ Tilly was delighted to be able to quote Campbell’s words back to him. ‘Aren’t you military types trained not to give in to pressure?’ she added innocently. ‘You could have stuck to name, rank and serial number.’

Campbell shot her a look. ‘Keith was a little cleverer than that. He talked a lot about how the programme wouldn’t work if they didn’t have the right number of contestants, and what a shame it would be if my last few weeks at Manning were remembered for a failure.’

‘Sounds like he knows just how to press all your buttons,’ said Tilly, full of admiration for the unknown Keith. It was clear that he had his boss sussed. She had barely known Campbell for more than an hour, but even she could see that he was driven by the need to be the best. Any suggestion that he might be associated with failure would be like a red rag to a bull.

‘He said it would just be a weekend with an amateur in the Highlands,’ Campbell went on, darkly remembering how he had been misled. ‘I didn’t realise quite how much of an amateur you would be, I must admit.’

‘Look at it from the television producers’ point of view. Where’s the fun if both of us know what we’re doing? If you ask me, they want scenes like the one at the top of the cliff.’

‘What cliff?’

‘The one I abseiled down!’

‘That little drop? You could have practically stepped down it!’

Tilly eyed him with dislike. ‘So what’s your charity?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Everyone who’s taking part is doing it for charity. So I’m doing it for the local hospice, and I think Greg was hoping to raise money for mountain rescue dogs or something. You must have some incentive to win.’

Campbell shrugged. ‘Winning’s enough for me,’ he said. ‘But I tell you what. My prize money will go to your hospice if we win, so they’ll have a double donation.’

Double the money. Tilly thought about what that would mean to the hospice. ‘Really?’ she asked.

‘Only if it gives you some incentive to hurry up,’ he said astringently.

‘I am hurrying,’ said Tilly, miffed. ‘I’m not used to all this exercise. I suppose that’s why they picked me,’ she added with a glum look. ‘They thought I’d be just the person to hold you back.’

‘Then I hope you’ll be able to prove them wrong,’ said Campbell, pausing on a ridge to look down at the river below.

His eyes scanned the valley. A television crew was waiting on the other side of the river, but there was no sign of the other contestants yet. They had taken the straightforward route, which meant that his gamble had paid off.

Tilly puffed up to stand beside him. ‘Where next?’

Campbell pointed to the river. ‘Down there.’

‘But how…?’ Tilly’s heart sank as she peered over the edge at the precipitous drop.

‘This is more like a cliff,’ Campbell conceded.

‘Oh, no…’ Tilly started to back away as she realised just what he had in mind. ‘No! No, absolutely not. There’s no way I’m hanging off that rope again. Don’t even think about it!’

CHAPTER TWO

TEN minutes later, Tilly was standing at the bottom, watching Campbell do his SAS act. Sliding down the cliff in one fluid action, he made it look so easy, she thought resentfully.

‘There, that wasn’t that bad, was it?’ he said to her as he unclipped himself and began briskly coiling ropes.

‘Yes, it was,’ Tilly contradicted him sulkily, although it hadn’t, in fact, been quite as bad as the first time. ‘I’m going to be having nightmares about today for years,’ she told him, unwilling to let him get away with his unashamed bullying that easily. ‘I can’t believe I was glad when I heard Greg wouldn’t be able to take part! He would have been much nicer to me. I’m sure he would never have told me to stop being so wet or made me throw myself off the edge of a cliff,’ she grumbled.