Carrie Goes Off the Map by Phillipa Ashley Page A

in. ‘Was that Matt I saw talking to you? What did he want?’
    â€˜I left my handbag behind,’ said Carrie, hoping Rowena wouldn’t hear the catch in her voice.
    Rowena rolled her eyes. ‘Oh bugger. Is that all? He’s absolutely gorgeous, isn’t he? Both of them are. Sort of dangerous and smoldering.’
    â€˜What? Like a bonfire?’
    â€˜Oh. You are touchy. I just thought that maybe…’
    â€˜No. Last man on earth and all that,’ said Carrie, turning the key in the ignition with unnecessary force. ‘Rowena?’
    â€˜Yes, hon?’
    â€˜How early can you be ready to set off for the ferry next Saturday? I can’t get out of Packley soon enough.’

Chapter 14
    Later that evening, Matt wound down the window of his ancient Mini to let in the cool night air. After leaving the pub, the four of them had enjoyed a very good, if extortionately priced meal at Grantley Manor. Robert had paid, which had made the food taste even better, but Matt had still felt uncomfortable. Spending so much on feeding just four people felt wrong, but it wasn’t only his social conscience that was bothering him. Natasha had been regaling him with gossip about the Carrie-Huw-Fenella thing for most of the evening.
    â€˜Of course, this was where Huw had booked the reception for his wedding to that girl,’ she’d said as soon as they’d set foot in the oak-paneled foyer of Grantley Manor.
    â€˜Really?’ Matt gritted his teeth but it had taken him some time to steer the girls off the subject.
    He’d wondered, too many times, whether he should have interfered that day at the church. After all, Carrie was entitled to do what she wanted; he wasn’t her keeper. He admired her feistiness, her spark, and her guts and he didn’t blame her for being mad with Huw either.
    She hated him now, and he could understand that. He’d hate someone who had seen him in that state: raw and upset. Slightly deranged too, he thought with a smile. No wonder she was angry and awkward with him. That was why he hadn’t stood up for her in the beer garden, why he’d kept his mouth shut this time and let her fight her own battles.
    By the time the waiters had brought the first course, Matt had been determined to force any thoughts of Carrie from his mind, despite the fact that Natasha gossiped about her for most of the evening, and by the end of the night, he’d actually found he was rather enjoying himself. He’d dropped Robert and Bryony off at his brother’s house in Summertown and then surprised Natasha by sailing past the flat and heading towards the city.
    He had the perfect antidote to his guilty conscience about Carrie.
    â€˜Oh, are we going clubbing? Or for a cocktail at Quod?’ asked Natasha.
    â€˜That isn’t quite what I had in mind. Close your eyes and don’t open them until I tell you.’
    â€˜Can I look yet?’ she begged from the passenger seat. ‘I can’t wait much longer.’
    â€˜Absolutely not,’ said Matt, flicking the indicator to turn left off the main road.
    â€˜Oh please.’
    â€˜Not long now.’
    The Mini trundled happily between the parked cars and bicycles that lined either side of the quiet north Oxford street. It was midnight but it was also midsummer and not properly dark. The orange glow of streetlights combined with the moon shining down from an almost cloudless sky lent the houses and trees a strange gilded quality. Matt was glad of the twilight because he couldn’t have done what he was planning if it had been pitch dark.
    â€˜Matt,’ pleaded Natasha, almost bouncing up and down in her seat.
    He grinned. ‘Patience.’
    Seeing the gates of the boathouse ahead, he managed to squeeze the Mini into a space between a scooter and some yellow lines, then got out and opened the door for Natasha. ‘Okay. You can look now.’
    She took her hands from her face and