How to Get a (Love) Life by Rosie Blake Page B

said, clapping his hands together. He had the LOUDEST CLAP IN THE WORLD. I flinched.
    ‘Oh kayak,’ I said, nodding quickly like a mad person. ‘I thought it was a canoe.’
    ‘Hahahaha,’ he laughed heartily at me. ‘A canoe! That’s a good one.’
    ‘Er, right. Haha. So how do you do it?’ I asked, attempting to match his enthusiasm and failing. I copied his deep inhalations and shoulder rolls in an effort to look like I was trying.
    Following much strap pulling and heaving, the kayak was on the ground beside the car. If possible, it now looked even bigger. Steven was attaching some complicated seat pad things to it with various straps and attachments. I stood looking around myself, hugging my arms to my chest, already freezing.
    ‘In the bag in the back there’s everything you need. I’ve brought you my sister’s wetsuit, it should be fine, and then there’s boots and things like that. You’ll feel like a princess.’ He laughed, clearly very excited to be preparing for our adventure.
    A princess.
    I tried to get into the spirit and practically skipped to the boot of the car to get the bag. ‘Okey dokey!’ I wondered if it was the wisest choice to use that phrase now for the first time.
    ‘There’s a public toilet over there you can change in,’ Steven said, pointing to a distant block of cement. I looked at it with narrowed eyes. I knew there was little point in complaining. This was a man who planned to spend a week defecating in a pot in the Himalayas, so I didn’t think moaning about these facilities would meet with a huge amount of sympathy.
    I pushed the door open and instantly gagged from the damp, musty smell. The loo seat was up and the toilet was streaked with yellow. The flush had lost the bit on the end of the chain and the sink was not an adequate size for even a five-year-old child. There was no loo paper and no hook for my clothes. There was no real manoeuvrable space , so I was in for a really fun five minutes.
    I tried to breathe through my mouth. As fast as I could, I whipped my jumper off and flung my jeans in the bag. My flesh was already breaking out into goosebumps and I gritted my teeth as I plunged into my bikini. Grabbing the wetsuit, I struggled for another few minutes, stretching the material over my limbs. It was a little on the small side. I put on the boots, a thin strip of skin around my ankle was laid bare to the elements. Also in the bag was some kind of hat made in the same material as the wetsuit. It looked as if it hooked under the chin. I inspected it in disbelief. Surely not. I would look like a skittle. Stuffing it back in the bag, I collected up the rest of my things and ventured out into the elements, feeling highly self-conscious.
    ‘Great!’ Steven said as he jigged enthusiastically about by the kayak. He was wearing the hat. He did indeed look like a skittle. Oh God. ‘Do you want me to do your hat up for you?’ he offered.
    I nodded silently. I slowly tied my hair back in a ponytail and let him tug the hat over my head for me. My left eyebrow was stretched uncomfortably taut and a piece of hair on the other side of my face was tickling me where it had escaped The Hat’s clutches.
    ‘Okay,’ Steven clapped his hands for a second time. The sound was only slightly dampened by the hat covering my ears. ‘Let’s hit the sea! You take that end and I’ll lead the way.’ He pointed to a toggle at one end and I lifted it, instantly dropping it again as I realised how heavy it was.
    ‘You’ll probably need to use both hands,’ Steven called behind him.
    I was tempted to poke my tongue out at his back. Mentally preparing myself, I took a deep breath and grabbed the toggle with both hands. I lifted, lurching forward as Steven set the pace. I half-walked, half-hopped along behind him, trying to keep hold of the kayak, block out the wind hitting my face and ignore the pain as I realised the small wetsuit was rubbing my legs and crushing my boobs down. Then we