********************
Location: 24 Emmeline Pankhurst Way, Hemel Hempstead
Radio station: Mix 96
Track playing: ‘Ghost Town’ by The Clash
Miles travelled: 290
Miles until Captain Poldark: 253.5
‘It’s round here somewhere,’ Lisa said, as they circled the block one more time looking for the address @MarryMeAidan78 had given her. ‘She said look for Germaine Greer Avenue and turn left at Marie Curie Drive …’
‘I haven’t seen one of these for years,’ Ray said, holding the road atlas open on his lap, scratching his neck where the lace collar of his shirt was chafing. ‘I didn’t think anyone still used them. Not that you even have to use satnavs any more. It’s all on your phone these days. The whole world is on your phone these days.’
‘Not on my phone, it isn’t,’ Lisa said, pointing at her 2003 Nokia, which sat in the cup holder between the driver and passenger’s seat.
‘But …’ Ray picked it up and stared at it. ‘That should be in a museum. How does it even still work?’
‘Very well,’ Lisa said. ‘Calls and texts, that’s all I want. I don’t want the entire world knowing where I am all the time. I don’t want people to be able to find me. I don’t want all the crap on the Internet streaming into my pocket. I don’t want people to know what I had for lunch or what kind of mood I am in, via a picture of a smiley or frowny face. I don’t want the government reading my emails.’
‘Yeah, but if you’ve done nothing wrong you’ve got nothing to worry about.’
Lisa shook her head. ‘That isn’t the point at all. What if the people who are looking at all your stuff are the bad guys, out to get you. It’s much better to keep your head down, keep a low profile, try not to get noticed. I only use the Internet at home, and I’m not too keen on that. If it wasn’t for Poldarlings, I might not use it at all …’
‘Do you wear a tin foil hat too?’ Ray joked, and Lisa shot him a look.
‘But seriously what are you worried about? Who do you think is after you?’
‘Where do I begin?’ Lisa said. ‘Fraudsters, thieves, perverts, the government, people who want to … Wait! There it is!’ She pulled into a small car park, behind a new-looking apartment block. ‘This is where @MarryMeAidan78 lives. It looks OK … Or at least it doesn’t look like a crack house, or organised crime syndicate.’
‘Not unless gangsters like their window boxes full of flowers,’ Ray said.
Lisa looked at him. ‘Let’s just hope she is who she says she is, and not a truck driver called Cyril.’
‘All right?’ @MarryMeAidan78 opened the door and nodded at them, offering a very firm handshake. ‘I’m Abby, Abs to my mates.’
Abby looked about thirty. Her blonde hair was tied into a short ponytail, pulled back tightly from her round face. She seemed to be dressed as if she were about to storm an embassy. She wore a black T-shirt and combat trousers tucked into biker boots.
‘Hi, I’m Lisa, @CornwallLover. And this … well, this is @I_Am_Demelza, who is sort of a bloke. Well, no sort of about it. He is one. A man.’
‘The fuck?’ Abby said, looking hard at Ray. ‘Demelza’s a dude!’
‘Yes, but he’s gay,’ Lisa said quickly. ‘He’s called Ray.’
‘And Ray is gay, huh?’ Abby looked Ray up and down very slowly. ‘Shame, you’re quite fit for a ginger.’
‘He just got out of the army,’ Lisa added, as if that somehow explained everything.
‘Serve in Afghanistan?’ Abby asked him, suddenly standing up a little straighter.
‘Yes,’ Ray said.
‘Still got all your bits?’ Abby asked.
‘Seem to have,’ he said.
‘I’m in the army,’ Abby told him. ‘Territorial Army – TA. Not official TA, more like a club. Not a big club – mostly it’s just me – but it’s just as good as the TA, if not better. We … I … go up to the common every third Saturday, practise survival skills, living off worms that sort of thing. You ever lived off a worm?’
‘Not recently …’ Ray said. ‘I had a can of beef stew that was four months out of date once.’
‘Right.’ Abby nodded. ‘Well, as long as we are all being honest about ourselves, I think I should tell you I’m schizophrenic. Diagnosed when I was nineteen. Anyway, I’m fine now. When I say fine, I mean I’m still schizophrenic, but I’ve got a lot of support, meds, a counsellor, friends, some of whom actually exist!’
Ray and Lisa exchanged a look.
‘That was a schizophrenia joke,’ Abby said. ‘The thing is, I know people are scared of mental illness. I know a lot of people think it means violence and danger. So if you guys don’t want me to come, then I understand.’
Lisa thought for a moment.
‘Well, I spent all of last night sleeping under my bed,’ she said. ‘I don’t think I can tell anyone else what normal is.’
Ray smiled. ‘Yeah, what Lisa said.’
‘Well, it’s good to be on board, Ray,’ Abby said, punching him so hard on the arm that he winced.
‘I’m ready when you are,’ she said, showing them into her neat living room, which was filled with a mountain of luggage. ‘I’ve packed the basics: tent, sleeping bag, gas burner, tins of beans times four, emergency chocolate bars times twenty-four, Chardonnay, two bottles. It’s Tesco own brand. I don’t drink, but it’s for you – and it can double up as an antiseptic in an emergency. Right, Ray?’
‘If you say so,’ Ray said as Abby hefted one of two backpacks onto her shoulders.
‘Thing is,’ Lisa said, slowly, ‘I only have a small car and we still have to pick up @PoldarkGoals. And although I really admire your planning, I think some of this will have to stay behind. Maybe the tent. I’ve booked us places to stay already, remember? I sent the links in my email to you all.’
‘I don’t like to leave the tent,’ Abby said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. ‘I always think a tent is key in a “Woman against nature” survival event. Although I suppose we could make a shelter from branches …’
‘It’s just that we booked places to stay …’ Lisa said again.
Abby shrugged. ‘Right then, we’ll leave the tent. Adapt, that’s the key. Adapt. And anyway, if something goes wrong with the bookings, what’s better than sleeping outside with a view of the stars?’
‘Almost anything,’ Lisa said.
For a few seconds the three of them, Internet friends, stood there in silence, none of them sure what should happen next.
‘So then, Team Poldark,’ Lisa said at last. ‘Let’s hit the road, get ready to roll and burn up the highway!’
‘Via Reading train station first, though. Yeah?’ Abby said, remembering the last pick up.
‘Yes, totally via Reading first,’ Lisa said.