Free Shared by the Highlanders by Ashe Barker Page A

man comments. Once their part in the proceedings is complete, they simply lie back on the heather watching me. They allow me to finish the cooking then we all feast on freshly barbecued fish, served on twenty-first century plastic plates.
    “Do we throw these away?” Robbie waggles his empty plate at me, that eyebrow raised in a way I am finding very familiar now.
    “No. We need to wash them as best we can, in the stream. We can use them again and again.”
    “I see. Let me have yours then, and I’ll do that.” Robbie takes my plate, and Will’s, and saunters off in the direction of the brook.
    Will props himself up on his elbow to watch me. I feel self-conscious under his steady gaze.
    “You’re still scared of me, lass. I can tell that you are, even though you’ll deny it. You’re more comfortable with Robbie, aye?”
    “It’s not that. I mean, I just… I’ve had more contact with him, I suppose.”
    “That’s true, and not all of it good.”
    “Even so, I feel I know him better. That’s all.”
    “Then you’ll ride with me for the rest of today, and I’ll be the first to fuck you. Are we agreed?”
    Typical Will, direct as ever. “I, I suppose…”
    “Will’s right, lass. You need to be at ease with us both for this to work between us, and we don’t play favourites.” I hadn’t heard Robbie’s return. For such a large man he moves in silence—no wonder he was able to take me so totally by surprise yesterday.
    “I’m sorry. I never meant that. What I said earlier, about wanting both of you, that was true. But I would like to spend more time with you, Will. And thank you for the offer of a ride.”
    “You’re welcome, lass. So now, will you be showing us some more of your treasures then?” At my puzzled look he elaborates. “Your bag, wee Charlie. What else do ye have in there?”
    I drag the rucksack over to me and open the top. I start pulling items out. First my tent, a bright yellow two-man pop-up affair. I laugh out loud at the amazed expressions on their faces when I twist the coiled frame and release it to let the tent spring into shape. It erects before their eyes, a bright, golden weatherproof shelter, and just about big enough for all of us. At a pinch.
    “Sweet Jesus, look at that. It’s a wee house.” Will lets out a low whistle under his breath. I grin and demonstrate securing the tent to the ground with tent pegs, which I force into the earth with the heel of my hiking boot.
    Next I show them my sleeping bag, sadly only big enough for one but we can open it out and spread it on the floor of the tent to use as a groundsheet. The plaids will have to provide the warmth we need on top. Not that I’m expecting to be cold.
    The remaining items are smaller. My map and compass fascinate Will. I spread the map on the ground and point out where we are now, and the features on the map that don’t yet exist in this world—the road through the Kirkstone Pass, the wind farm, several villages, including Glenridding.
    “There’s a pub there, on the pass. High up on the fells. It’s very old, perhaps…” Could it already exist, here in this time?
    “Aye, there isan inn up there. For travellers and stock drovers, I daresay. Maybe it has survived to your time.” I note with quiet satisfaction that Will seems to be no longer questioning the truth of my situation. “Mariners use something akin to this, to plot their course over the ocean.” He turns my compass over in his hand.
    “Yes, I suppose the basic principle doesn’t change. You’ll have seen a magnifying glass too, I imagine.”
    “Aye, lass. Do you have one of those as well then?”
    “Sort of.” I pull out my binoculars and hand them to Will. “These are based on the same sort of principle, but are designed for seeing clearly and in detail, over long distances. Just point them at a distant spot and look through them. You’ll need to adjust the little wheel on the top, focus them for your eyes…”
    I watch as