Ronnie grunted, finally allowing himself to relax. Maybe the poofter did have an annoyingly sunny disposition, but he clearly wanted to help. In other circumstances, Ronnie would have conspired to rob the camper van he had mentioned. He’d learned through experience that the gays always owned expensive shit. But he was in no position to be adventurous or ambitious, especially when he was so damn tired.
“I’d appreciate your help,” he said, forcing the corner of his lips upwards into a smile.
“Paul,” smiled the stranger, giving him a hand to shake. “I’ll get Ross- that’s my husband.”
He retreated down the steps. Ronnie followed him and peered down the road at the shitty, decrepit old camper that was parked just a few yards away from their RV. He was being smug, smirking to himself at his good fortune, when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.
“Min,” he yawned, meeting his wife’s eye as he spun around.
“What the fuck is going on?” she hissed, pupils, glittering in the morning sunshine. She folded her arms. She was wearing Sienna’s dressing gown. It wasn’t as though the woman would be needing it, buried somewhere beneath the marsh in Lonely Loch.
“The bloody thing broke down,” Ronnie explained. He gestured down the road at the old camper van, and Paul’s spindly figure briskly retreating back to it. “Apparently, this guy is a mechanic. He can fix it for us.”
She pursed her lips together and stared after Paul, suspicion tinging her expression. “How do you know we can trust him?” she whispered, her eyes glazing over.
Ronnie felt a sore stab in his gut as he took in the pained look on her face. This morning, Minnie was looking naked and exposed. Vulnerable. Only he knew that beneath the hard, thick wall of bricks she’d built up around herself, there was still a small part of her that was tainted by the past. Seeing Stella in such an awful state would have only served to pour salt into those gaping, never-healing wounds.
Minnie was not afraid of other people when she was dealing with them on her own terms. She didn’t think twice about hijacking houses, and stabbing the owners to death, or watching the life drain out of her enemies. But when it came to unexpected visitors or acquaintances, she briefly resembled a rabbit caught in the headlights, just before quickly bracing herself for an attack.
“What choice have we got?” Ronnie pointed out. “We’re not going anywhere with the RV not starting.”
She bit her lip and nodded, pulling the dressing gown tighter around her body.
A refreshing gust of wind suddenly buffeted them, making the long, blonde strands of hair on Minnie’s head dance around her face like the legs of an octopus. The couple stood quietly, eyes fixed intently on the camper van, Paul talking to someone in the driver’s seat, and then the door eventually being pushed open.
A tall male stepped out, his brow furrowed in annoyance, clearly unimpressed at his services being offered involuntarily.
Although she did not say anything, Ronnie turned to Minnie, sensing a sudden, eerie shift in the atmosphere. He saw that her lips had parted slightly, and her eyes crinkled as though she was trying to make sense of an incomprehensible passage of an old book.
“What?” he asked before turning back to follow her gaze.
The tall man, presumably Paul’s husband, Ross, was continuing towards them, with Paul following along behind him like an eager little lap dog.
Ronnie was just about to open his mouth to prompt Minnie again when he saw it.
He saw it, and instantly every word in his vocabulary temporarily dissolved into nothingness, rendering him speechless.
Minnie felt her heart skip a beat and her chest tighten as she registered the familiar, distinct stroll and those familiar eyes that always seemed to be able to stare right into her soul. Even the way he breathed as he walked took her back all those years, and suddenly she was transported back into the kitchen of her parent’s house, listening to him traipsing about the place.
Her first instinct was to run towards him, but she could feel Ronnie’s hand grip onto her wrist in a warning. But warning for what? What was there to do? She considered retreating, but her feet were rooted to the spot.
At first, Ronnie could see no recognition reflected back at them in Minnie’s brother’s face, and for a second, he wondered if it would all be okay. Maybe Ross would note a similarity, but there’s no way he’d say anything. He thought they were dead and had done for twenty odd years.
But even after so much time had passed, even Ronnie could clearly tell that it was Ross Walter coming towards them. He’d aged- his hair thinner, more lines on his face, but it was clearly him.
His fears were confirmed when Ross got to about a metre away and finally looked up properly, his eyes locking onto Minnie’s. Ronnie felt his heart plummet from the top of his chest down into the depths of his stomach. A million thoughts raced through his mind.
What the fuck now?
Ross stopped dead in his tracks and took a sharp, loud intake of breath that drowned out the wind.
“Oh my god,” he blurted out, clearly involuntarily. Blinking, he furiously shook his head but did not take his eyes off of Minnie standing there on the steps. “Oh my god, Minnie?” he squeaked, the weak, high-pitched tone of his voice almost comical as it tumbled from his lips.
Paul grabbed onto Ross’s arm, his face contorted into a deep frown.
For what felt like an age, the four of them just stood there outside the RV. Minnie and Ross staring madly at one another whilst Paul looked quizzically from
