This is the first chapter in a short series. I hope you enjoy it. Constructive feedback is very welcome. All rights reserved, © Northern_One, 2012.
I dumped the bag of shopping on the passenger seat and slammed shut the door of my old van. Leaving the tiny village store behind me I set off into the howling gale and pouring rain, the decrepit wipers barely clearing the windscreen. My destination was a campground that I'd been to before but the roads weren't exactly familiar so I didn't hurry. I didn't have any reason to, as long as I made it there before it got dark. I'd been on the road all day and was looking forward to a hot shower, a beer and something to eat but, the better part of valour being discretion, I wanted to arrive in one piece.
I'd been exploring the South Island for about six weeks now and time wasn't really an issue for me. Pretty much everything I owned was in this ancient old van and I was, I kept reminding myself, living my dream. If I was honest the dream was supposed to look a little different; the passenger seat was supposed to be occupied by my girlfriend Amelia rather than a bag of baked beans and beer but then perhaps the dream had been mine more than hers after all. Anyway, she'd assured me we'd pick thing up again when I got home although a nagging voice in my head told me this was less and less likely. New Zealand had been my idea, it was true, but five months spent sleeping in a van, windsurfing and mountain biking our way around this rugged, beguiling country was surely what every girl dreamed of, no?
The rain eased off and I was able to relax a little, less fearful about what the next blind corner might bring with it. I saw a sign advertising the campground and started to recognise the odd distinguishing feature along the road. I'd been here a few weeks before and had found a great beach just metes from the campground. It was a perfect, unspoilt spot with an ideal prevailing wind and the potential for some great waves. Would I have been happier at home with Amelia? My career as a copywriter, if you could call it that, was hardly fulfilling my every wish and perhaps our outlooks on life were less compatible than they'd seemed when in the early throes of passion. The fact that I was on one side of the world and she was on the other certainly said something even if I didn't want to admit to myself exactly what that thing was.
The let up in the weather was a temporary one but the campground wasn't far now. I squinted through the windscreen and could just make out the wet road. Water was running across it in miniature waves and I had slowed to a crawl. I rounded a bend and with a sigh of relief saw the entrance.
Although not a glamorous means of transport my van was warm and very easy when it came to setting up for the night. I didn't have to faff around with a tent and I was extremely glad of that now. The van really was just that, it had been a workman's minibus before I'd done a quick conversion job by ripping out the seats and replacing them with a full double bed, legs and all. There was plenty of room underneath it for storage and it was as comfortable as my bed at home. I'd even strung up some makeshift curtains. The campground was pretty empty, only a few other campervans and a couple of drenched tents around. I knew from my previous visit that it wasn't staffed and relied on an honesty box system. Facilities were minimal -- a unisex toilet block with one shower cubicle, a washing-up area and that was pretty much it. I also knew from my previous visit that the shower was wonderfully hot and powerful, providing one had a fifty cent piece to make it work. These silver coins were like gold dust last time I'd been here and I'd made sure to ask for one in my change from the little village store I'd stopped at.
I parked the van within sprinting distance of the shower block and closed my eyes for a few seconds. The drive had been difficult and I was in dire need of a relaxing shower. I grimaced upwards, trying to search out any signs of the rain relenting but it was a mass of grey above me. Deciding an early night was good for me anyway, I climbed into the back of the van to collect my wash things then, clutching the all-important coin, opened the door and made a run for it.
I made it to the shower block in seconds but still arrived soaked. There was only one shower and it was occupied when I tried the door.
"Won't be a minute," the occupant called out.
Slightly annoyed by this rude disruption to my immediate plans I pocketed my fifty cents and went to the sink to clean my teeth. As I brushed I looked in the mirror and took stock of what I saw: scruffy dirty blond hair, a couple of days' growth, a bit tired looking but not too bad considering the drive. Amelia had always told me my green eyes were my best feature and despite being a touch bloodshot, they still had the glint that she had liked so much. I was in pretty good shape from all the sport I was doing, if not exactly professional athlete standard but beneath my faded hoody and cargo shorts I could have been pretty much any mid-20s backpacker bumming around until the money ran out.
The door opened and I glanced in the mirror to see who had come in. The new arrival had their anorak hood up but by their height and build I guessed it was a female. I finished at the sink and turned round, heading towards the shower cubicle where I would wait my turn.
The newcomer was standing reading the sign that explained the workings of the shower and, having lowered her hood, I could see it was indeed a female. She smiled a quick hello then began searching inside her anorak pockets. She must have been around 5' 7'', had bobbed blonde hair and wore black shorts and flip flops below her bright blue anorak. Straight away I noticed her slender, toned legs and silver ankle bracelet. Amelia had always teased me about my mild ankle fetish and the sight of that little chain around a slim, tanned ankle sparked off involuntary lustful thoughts in my mind.
"Do you know how to work this thing?" she suddenly asked, turning to look at me. She had a sing-song accent that I couldn't immediately place, but her English was perfect. She was stunning and her appearance made me lose the power of speech for a second. Her bobbed blonde hair framed a ridiculously pretty face; her eyes were startlingly blue, her lips red and full and her high cheekbones and strong jawline gave her an unmistakeably Scandinavian look.
"Err, err... yeah I do," I stuttered.
"Oookaay, that's good," she said with a slight giggle. "Could you tell me what to do then?" she asked, a cheeky smile spreading across her face.
I'd been caught completely off guard by the way she looked and I did my best to gather my composure. The way she smiled at me though made me think it wasn't the first time a man had been struck dumb in her presence.
"Umm, you need a fifty cent piece. Have you got one? It's a great shower though, lovely and warm and powerful. I've been here before, a few weeks ago. I bet you need a shower with all this rain, it's like being at home," I blurted out, my mouth operating far faster than my brain.
She gave another little giggle.
"I guess you're English then?" she asked as she continued to feel around in her pockets, presumably for a purse.
"Yep, English here. Well, British really I suppose. My Mum's Scottish and my Dad's Welsh so I'm not really English at all. I was born there though so maybe I am. Who knows?" I laughed nervously whilst inside I begged my brain to get a grip and stop me babbling like a fool. "Where are you from, Sweden by any chance?"
"I'm from Norway actually, good try though!"
"Oh great, I'd love to go there sometime. I bet it's a bit like home for you here too then, what with the fjords and everything?"
"I suppose so," she replied. "I'm from Oslo though so we don't have many fjords there," she grinned.
"What about the weather though? Is it similar to England?" My toes curled at my latest inane question. Asking about the weather? What had happened to me? I wasn't used to being such a blethering imbecile but then again I suppose I wasn't used to making small talk with a girl who looked as though she could make even Rupert Everett think twice about the gender of his partner. And then there was that ankle bracelet.
"I haven't been to England, I'm afraid," she replied. Her smile seemed to fade slightly.
I needed to pull myself together before she decided I was a simpleton. In my defence I'd been driving all day and had only come in expecting a shower but how often was I going to have the opportunity to chat to someone who was, to my eye at least, model-material, and friendly with it.
