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“I don’t want your hand, Max!”
This was progress from the bent-over, head in palms, hyperventilating wreck he’d hurried over to a minute or so ago, Max had to allow, but he wished she didn’t have to be so snappy and closed off. Still, his presence seemed to have reassured and calmed her down a bit, so that was something. Or perhaps she was just so unwilling to be vulnerable around him that she’d started to recover out of spite.
“Ok, ok!” he said, dropping the hand he’d offered her. “Look, I will be right beside you. We just follow my torch, and step by step we get closer to the end, and then you will be outside.” He flashed his light towards the end of the tunnel to demonstrate, then immediately regretted it when he realised that the end was too far away to see.
There was a tut. “Yes, I do understand how tunnels and walking work.”
Max couldn’t see her eyes roll, but he was ninety nine percent certain that was what was happening. “Great,” he replied, trying to stay even and not let her attitude upset him. “Let’s get you out of here.”
He started walking slowly, steadily holding the torch, and sensing Miranda treading along next to him, noticeably silent and tense. They’d only gone about two metres when he felt something brush his fingers, and then she was holding his hand, clinging to him like her life depended on it. Her skin was clammy and her neat nails were digging into him, but he said nothing; he didn’t mind, as long as he could help her when she so clearly needed him, even if she couldn’t admit it out loud.
They carried on, picking their way carefully over stones and rails, trying not to trip in the deep gloom. Max could hear Miranda’s breathing was still a little fast and erratic, and her hand wasn’t getting any less damp. Still, she kept going, not once stopping for another attack of fear, just pushing on. He had to admire her for that.
“Here we go; just a few more metres…” he said gently as the tunnel’s mouth shone ahead like a guiding beacon.
They sped up a little now that the edge of daylight was helping to illuminate their path. Miranda took a deep yet shaky breath as they stepped blinking out into the open again. She immediately dropped Max’s hand like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have. A sense of disappointment took Max by surprise. He wasn’t sure what that was about; was it that the brief physical contact had been a breakthrough, a chink in her frosty defences, perhaps? Or something more? He put that aside and concentrated on making sure she was alright.
Up ahead on the right he saw a couple of railway sleepers stacked on top of the low wall that marked the boundary between trainline and citrus orchards. He led the way to them, thinking they would make a decent makeshift bench. It was pleasant out; not too cold or breezy, and the scents of the first orange blossoms of the season and small bonfires burning amongst the farmland hung in the air. It might be nice to sit out here and look after Miranda, while the rest of the team searched the dark, oppressive tunnel.
Max gestured towards the sleepers and let Miranda sit first. She perched awkwardly, looking out of place in the early spring countryside in her smart city suit. But then, didn’t she look out of place a lot of the time, Max thought. Life seemed to be so much harder to enjoy for her than it did for him. Maybe he could help with that, if she’d let him.
“Move up,” he said.
Miranda stared up at him, stony-faced. “Why?”
“So I can sit down and make sure you’re ok.”
“Err, no,” Miranda retorted. “You need to go back in there and look for evidence, Max.”
“Not if you’re not ok.”
“I’m fine! I just need a minute’s peace to myself, ok?!” The implication that he was too talkative and irritating for her was loud and clear. “It’s just a bug. Nothing serious.”
Max put his hands up in surrender. “Ok! I’ll go back in there. You stay out here until you feel better.”
Miranda stared ahead, not looking at him at all. “Uh-huh.”
“I’ll just go, then…” Max said, pointing back at the tunnel. He failed to actually move; could he in good conscience leave her? “You’re sure you’ll be ok out here by yourself?”
Miranda glared up at him. “Yes, Max! I’m fine on my own,” she told him firmly. “Always.”
As he sauntered back towards the tunnel, Max reflected that she probably actually believed that. Well, he knew that it wasn’t true, and he was pretty sure he could do something about it. Everybody needed a good friend, and he was determined to be that for her. He would show her the benefits of letting him in, if he could get past the prickliness…