Chapter 22

“I am not staying in that hostel again.”

“Fine. Pick a campsite,” Mike said. “Wherever you like.”

Stephen squinted at him. “Why are you buttering me up?”

“Can do that, too.”

“Watch it, Romeo, might get ideas you like me.”

“Can I be Mercutio?”

Stephen nearly crashed. “Fuck me, a classical reference you didn’t cock up!”

“Naff off, I watched the film.”

“The poncy one with tights, or the stupid one with guns?”

“Guns. Obviously.”

“Don’t ruin the trip by getting shot on a beach. I’ll have to pack up the tent on my own.”

“Watch it, Romeo,” Mike echoed. “Might get ideas you’re sick of me.”

“Sick of that tent, more like…”