‘You are a stupid moo, Maddy Peters!’ it wasn’t exactly the first time she’d had those thoughts over the last few hours, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“I am so not getting another tattoo!”
“Okay, okay, forget I mentioned it,” James told his girlfriend.
“And if you think I’m sleeping with you this weekend, forget it,” I spat.

Not of course that I’m supposed to be sharing with him anyhow, Mum’d go ballistic if she knew, no I’m supposed to be in with Shelle, Robert, her BF, gets the other boy bed. Well that's what the ‘rents think anyway. And the cause of this argument? Well it was a bit of a lark really, when we went to Mancon after Easter there was this party, well cool and – well I ended up getting a Star Trek badge tattooed on my boob.

I know, pretty stupid, but I thought it looked the biz and who was gonna see it? Mum was who, she went ballistic with a capital B. I got grounded, not that it made much difference as it was exam season so like everyone was revising for GCSE’s anyhow. And then he suggests I get another one, I might be blonde but I’m not stupid and I do want to see Christmas – which I won’t if I go home with another tattoo.

“But?”
“Don’t you touch me!”

He pulled his arm back in shock at my vehemence.

“Mad, I get it, can’t we just, you know, make up?”

Its not the first time we’ve fallen out of course, well what couple doesn’t argue? But this time, well I just felt like, I dunno, hitting him or something. The train slowed right up, the brakes screeching loudly as we came to a halt in Scarborough. I jumped up and leaving the others to sort out the bags stormed off the train and down the platform.

“Mad! Hang on!”

I ignored Shelle’s plea and pushed through the other passengers and out of the station. Not that I’d got a clue where I was going but right now anywhere without James in it was favourite. There was a sign at the end of the road, ‘to the beach’, well it is a seaside resort and beaches are good for being alone so I went that way.

Not that I got to the beach, as I got distracted by a bus, the 13 going to Brid.

“How long to Brid?”
“Just over an hour love.”
“Is there one back later?”
“Aye lass, every hour, last one from Brid’s at ten fifteen.”

Well I’d be away from the others for a good couple of hours and still be back reasonable.

“Can I get a return please?”

Having snagged one of the front seats I settled myself in for the ride down the coast. I checked my phone, one message from Shelle, three from James, ‘where are you?’ being the general drift of course. Well if they think I’m falling for that one, I turned it off without replying and dug my emergency chocolate out of my bag.

It was quarter to two when I got off in the middle of Bridlington, thirty minutes before the bus goes back up to Scarborough. The temperature was warm enough to lose my cardi, the earlier cloud having been replaced by blue skies, I put my hair into a pony too, much better. I came with the ‘rents last year, there’s a load of cafes just round the corner, I can get a plate of chips or something before going back, yep, seems like a good plan.

I got round to the bus stop in plenty of time which is where things started to go wrong. I had a quite sudden and urgent need for the loo, plenty of time, there are some just around the corner. Except they were closed and by now I was doing the toilet shuffle, think Mad, think!

When the woman got out of the camper and departed without locking the door the solution was obvious, campers have a toilet right? I shuffled over, tried the door, yes, and climbed inside pulling the door shut behind me. Two wardrobes later I found the lav and gratefully made use of the facility, I checked my watch, yep I’ve still got five minutes to get back to the bus stop.

I was just about to open the door when I heard voices approaching outside followed by a key in the lock. Bum! I made a dive for the toilet and pulled the door too, just in time to hear those same voices climbing inside, not English, maybe Dutch or something. By the time the engine started any chance of escape was gone, maybe I should’ve just opened the door and made a run for it but I just sat tight.

They have to stop some time right, a campsite or something, I can get out then and figure a way back to Scarborough. Have you ever tried to sit on a toilet in a camper that's moving? And not make any noise? Let me tell you, its not easy, you’re bouncing all over the place, there’s nothing to hold onto and a wash bag kept hitting me in the face.

Eventually ‘we’ did come to a halt but far from getting out my ‘hosts’ stayed sat in the cab talking – why aren’t they getting out? I checked my watch, four thirty, well I can still get back to the others before its too late, we can’t be that far from Brid, I can get a taxi back into town. Yeah, sounds like a plan.

We shuffled forward before there was a short conversation with someone else – must’ve been waiting to get on the site I guess. Then we drove on, quite steadily a couple of bumps – speed humps I guess then we tilted first steeply down then nearly the same up. The engine noise seemed to get louder and more echoey and a minute or two later we stopped and the engine was cut again.

The owners had a short conversation then left the camper, phew, give them a few minutes and I’ll make my exit. Guess I’d best let James know I’m okay, I turned on the light and pulled out my phone, bum, no signal, well it’ll wait. There were more vehicle noises outside, some shouting and then silence – well except for a sort of deep rumbling.

I crept out of the lav and headed for the door – which was locked. Of course it is, front doors, I headed up to the cab and tried the – oh bum, no doors, Gaby said something like that about their new campervan, you get in at the side. I headed back to the door and tried it again – locked solid, must be some sort of deadlock.

It was only then I actually looked outside, to be confronted by what looked like the side of a lorry. What is this place? I checked the other windows, similar views, in front we were pulled up very close to another big camper, this is no campsite, I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

My fears were confirmed a couple of hours later, the steady rumbling intensified and I sensed we were moving. ‘You stupid moo, Maddy Peters!’ Yup, I’m locked inside a campervan in the bowels of a ferry heading across the North Sea. I tried shouting, banging on the windows, even the vans horn but there was no one about, why would there be?

What now? I don’t know where the ferry’s going, how long it takes to get there or exactly how I get out of this fix. I only wanted to spend a penny and now I’ve become an unwitting stowaway to foreign parts. Its all James’ fault, if he hadn’t started on about me getting another tattoo I wouldn’t have gone off in a huff, I wouldn’t’ve caught the bus to Brid and I wouldn’t have climbed in here for a wee.

Okay so I might have over reacted just a little bit but I don’t like being manipulated. Its not like we’re talking a big tat, or something nasty and I’m not even totally against the idea but if I get more ink it’ll be my choice to do so. But this isn’t helping things.

A growling stomach highlighted one issue, I’ve not eaten since the chips in Brid, well obviously, and at most there’s a packet of gum in my bag. But this is a camper van which means… a quick search of the cupboards wasn’t particularly fruitful, some of that rubbery black bread stuff, a tub of something called ‘Fleischsalat’ and a packet of biscuit things. I guess they’re heading home then.

There were a couple of tins of stuff too but a) I’m not sure what was in them and b) when I tried the stove it lit but almost immediately fizzled out. Looks like the bread stuff I guess, could be worse at least there is some food and I do have access to a loo. Apparently ‘Fleischsalat’ isn’t really salad at all but bits of luncheon meat in some sort of mayonnaise stuff – it almost made the bread stuff edible.

I woke to a lot of banging, shouting and a change to the constant rumbling. In a panic I sat up, dropping straight back down as I spotted a hard hat wearing head outside the window. My heart was thumping nineteen to the dozen, geez that was close. After a minute of getting myself under control I slowly eased myself back up, the hard hat was gone, phew!

But if there are people down here – bum! I quickly tidied things up, put everything back where I’d found it before hiding back in the loo. I checked my watch, five o’clock, urgh, wrong end of the day.

It was best part of two hours later that I heard the door opening and the bodies and their voices climbed into the van. My heart was in my mouth, will I be discovered? What then? But a few moments later the engine started and we started to move.

The camper had clanged off the boat, the echoing noise disappearing as we moved slowly through, I’m guessing the docks. There was a brief stop, an exchange of foreign and then we seemed to make a few turns before picking up more speed. Now I just need to wait for them to stop and I can make my escape.

Mad, you are a dummy! Why did you hide from that guy on the boat? What was I thinking, this whole nightmare could’ve been over – well at least I wouldn’t be sat in a tiny toilet cubicle in a camper heading for who knows where. I bet they’re looking for me back in Scarborough, hang on, phone, I should be able to get a signal now we’re off the ferry.

A dig around my bag, of course it had migrated to the bottom but excitedly I flipped it open and turned it on. Hmm, have to charge it soon good job I packed my charger...in my case, sugar. It started doing that signal search thing, come on, there must be one, they do have mobiles over here, Gab is surgically attached to hers, please, please.

‘Unable to connect’, bum, bum, bum. Well I guess I can try again in a bit.

I guess we were on a motorway now, we seemed to be travelling at a steady speed, the van swaying around a bit each time we passed what I assume was a truck. Somehow I wedged myself into the corner and dozed off only waking as we bounced over some sort of ramp. Is this my chance to get off the bus so to speak?

Apparently not, even through the door I could identify the pong of diesel and whilst they both got down the door stayed open. A check of my time piece revealed ‘we’ve’ been driving for a couple of hours, if I didn’t know where I was before, I certainly don’t have a clue now. Gab would know, lets face it her family are gadding about all over the place – Aunt Jen was always on my case about being so bad at geography – she was our teacher so I suppose it was her job, maybe I should’ve paid more attention.

Anyhow, that's no help now, I could be anywhere. The camper bounced a bit as, I presume the woman, climbed back aboard bringing a waft of fresh coffee with her. A moment later the door slammed shut, the engine started and we were moving again, don’t these people make proper stops?

My phone continued to not get a signal but of course each attempt used more precious battery, it was down to less than half now. According to my watch its after eleven, hopefully they’ll stop for lunch soon, I really should’ve nicked some of those biscuits, its like over twelve hours since I had that meat stuff and I really am getting hungry now.

Several times it’s seemed like we were going to stop again, slowing, turning through bends but each time we kept moving, presumably we just changed roads. This time however we were down to what felt like a crawl, some conversation went on at the front before we finally came to a halt. My hosts departed, I waited a couple of minutes before easing the door open and finally exited the cramped toilet space.

Phew, I stretched cramped muscles then reality kicked in, I need to get out of here like pronto. However I did pause a moment to grab a couple of biscuit bars and seeing a couple of those euro notes on the seat I’d slept on, scooped them up before checking the door and yes, they hadn’t locked the door. As I got down I could hear someone approaching on the other side of the camper, I quickly closed the door and scampered into the bushes.

Well I’m out of the camper, where I am is a mystery but I’ve got time to think about my next move. I watched as the bloke who I presume has been my chauffeur checked the door, mumbled something to himself as he locked it and went off again. What now, I need to get home somehow, I need to contact someone to let them know where I am.

I straightened myself out a bit and boldly joined the travellers heading into the services, a place called ‘Aachener Hof’. Still not having a clue where I am I headed towards the toilets, yeah I know I’ve been sat on one for goodness knows how long but I could do with a wash and sort out my makeup a bit. I was thwarted by a barrier, they want fifty cents to use the facilities and all I’ve got are the purloined notes.

Okay, Mad, think, food then toilet, I can get some change that way and stop my stomach rumbling. I pulled out the notes, two twenties and a five, not a fortune but I can at least feed myself. This place is nothing like the services back in England, no shops as such, no chicken or burger outlets, instead there’s a sort of self service restaurant, I picked up a tray and headed in.

I didn’t even recognise half the stuff on offer but I spotted a tray of those flat breadcrumbed things Gab made last year when she stopped, schnitzel, that's it. Which probably means I’m in Germany, sugar! The server just loaded a plate up when I pointed to the schnitzel, chips and some sort of sauce added to the meat, add a glass of Pepsi Max® and go to the till, job done.

There was still no phone connection but that was the least of my worries. But what should I do now, the camper was gone, and to be honest stowing away again isn’t exactly a very good strategy. First is find out where I am, there’s one of those ‘you are here’ things outside, maybe I can get a bus or something back to the ferry port.

According to the map I’m just in Germany about a centimetre from Köln, a bit more from Bonn – that's not far from the Bond’s, the coast is a lot further away. Hmm, if I can get to my cousins they’ll help me get home but how do I get there? If my flippin’ phone worked I could just ring Gabs, probably Uncle Dave would come to fetch me.

If. Well I guess the first thing is to get away from the motorway, I’d already spotted a road behind the services so I followed the service road that looped out to join the lane. Now what? A bus made its way up road and signalled to stop pretty much opposite where I stood, it said ‘Stolberg’ on the blind, has to be a town right?

I tried to remember some of the German Gab tried to teach me, “Stolberg bitter.”
“Mitte?” the driver asked.
No idea what that is, in for a penny, “Yar.”
He played with the ticket machine, “Zwei vierzig bitte.”

I have no idea what that is, I gave him the ten from my purse and received a pile of change and a ticket. He set off as I found a seat, yesterday it was a Yorkshire bus, today a German one, the old woman opposite smiled at me, I gave one back, I’ll be in trouble if she wants to talk!

Maddy Bell © 04.06.2018