Feeling Al Fresco

‘Whoever thought camping was a good first date idea?’ I hiss down the phone at Lindsay.

She laughs. ‘What was your new motto again? Be more adventurous?’

‘I didn’t mean meeting a girl for the first time in the wilderness being bitten to pieces and going to the toilet in a bucket! I was thinking more along the lines of ordering a chocolate milkshake instead of a strawberry one,’

‘Mate, give it a chance. Nicole is cool. You’ll like her. She’s an expert at this stuff. Just do what she does.’

I sigh and hang up the phone, pulling my hair up into a ponytail and checking myself out quickly in the wing mirror. I’m wearing combat trousers. Combat trousers! I bought them yesterday. The things I will do to try and get a girlfriend.

I’ve never put a tent up in my life. I hope to God this girl does actually know what she’s doing, this was her idea after all. I drive into the campsite and start looking warily around. I’ve stalked Nicole on Facebook - her and Lindsay work together and this is all Lindsay’s doing. If I don’t find her soon I’m calling the whole thing off and going home. Back to the warm, where the Netflix and the sofa and the hot chocolate is. I’m starting to get hopeful that she hasn’t turned up, and then I spot her.

She’s almost directly in front of me, putting the finishing touches to the incredibly small looking two-man tent. How do girls look good in sportswear? I don’t, I look like a potato. I’m going to have to get out of the car and introduce myself, or I’m going to look like a stalker just pulling up next to her and staring. She beats me to it and opens my car door.

‘Ida?’

‘Nicole?’

‘Your timing is amazing - I’ve just finished putting the tent up. I’m about to brew some coffee and make some dinner. All day breakfast sound good to you? I know it’s not first date food but I’m not a typical first date person,’ she shrugs.

‘You’re telling me!’ I say, and fake laugh. I don’t like this but she’s strangely charming. We’re in the outside and I’m way out of my comfort zone, and she’s looking after me.

‘Nicole… did you happen to bring wine glasses?’

‘Of course. It’s not a normal first date but it’s still a first date! And I brought my favourite Merlot.’

The wine is poured, the fry up cooked and we get settled in surprisingly comfortable camping chairs outside the tent, the sun beginning to set. I do have to admit that it’s actually quite nice. There’s a slight chill in the air but we’re wrapped in blankets. The wine has loosened us up and we’re getting to know each other. I can tell you Nicole’s childhood best friend was called Phillip, her favourite cheese is brie and her dad is her hero. She could tell you that my favourite colour is orange, my favourite TV show is Suits and I broke my wrist when I was seven. I thought I’d hate this, but I’m feeling content and warm inside. When Nicole smiles it sparkles, and I want to listen to her story for hours.

Is it strange getting into cramped sleeping quarters with somebody you only met a few hours ago? Yes. Yes it is. But we’re slightly giddy from the wine and the fact that we’ve bonded so well and it doesn’t seem like a big deal. I send Lindsay a quick thank you text before my phone battery dies. Nicole has made us hot water bottles, and we get cosy and fall asleep holding hands. ‘My grandad says the secret to a long and happy marriage is to fall asleep holding hands every night,’ I whisper to Nicole as we fall asleep.

I wake up suddenly a few hours later. It is dark and the quiet is suffocating. I have a pain in my abdomen that’s woken me. This is not the time or the place to be ill. I try to be quiet so as not to wake Nicole, and attempt to go back to sleep, but the pain is severe and it feels like it’s getting worse. I’m trying not to panic when suddenly Nicole is sat up, with an expression of concern and care on her face.

‘This isn’t how I usually act on first dates, but I think I might be sick,’ I gasp, making my way outside the tent. Nicole isn’t phased. She rubs my back and strokes my head.

‘You’re burning up Ida,’ she says softly, ‘I think we need to get you home.’

‘I’ve ruined it haven’t I?’ I ask morosely, ‘I’m sorry,’

‘I’m driving you,’ Nicole states, matter of fact, business-like. She’s bossy. Maybe I need bossy in my life.

My stomach hurts so badly that I can’t stand up straight, and Nicole helps me into the passenger side of my own car. She looks worried. She doesn’t even know where I live. I’m crying with a mixture of horror, embarrassment, and sheer pain.

‘I’m not taking you home,’ Nicole tells me, and she’s making an effort to keep her voice calm but I can detect the slight shake, ‘I think we need to get you checked over in the hospital.’

I make a pathetic attempt to argue, but she won’t have it, and after all, I agree with her. I’ve never felt so unwell in my life.

I can’t remember much of the drive. All I remember is Nicole getting lost and trying not to show me her panic. Then the harsh lights of the emergency room and Nicole holding my hand and not letting go until they took me into surgery for the appendectomy.

She’s the first person I see when I wake up. She’s smiling and she strokes my hair. ‘You scared me,’ she says softly, ‘how was I supposed to explain to your mum that I took you camping on our first date and killed you?’

Six years later, we link arms as we leave the registry office a married couple. We eat fish and chips on the beach and go home to our three dogs who smother us in welcome home kisses. I make us hot chocolate and we snuggle down together on the sofa to watch Netflix.

We fall asleep holding hands.