Nothing big happened again that day. Not much could have beaten being harassed by a gaggle of geese, either. They followed the coast down after Brightlingsea. They were expecting to see the London outskirts some time in the following day. They parked near the shore and both of them slept without dreaming much.

The sun went up again and they were woken up by bird cries, seagulls, probably. The man who now called himself Josh for whatever reason, was the first one to wake up. Now that was a surprise, even to him. He had never been one to rise early. Andy was usually up and about at the same time everyday as if he had swallowed a clock. They said old people needed less sleep anyway.

This day, the sounds of the sea, the rather demanding cries of the seagulls made it hard to stay asleep for the street rat who had lived all his life surrounded by the droning of machines, the low buzz of lights always on, the unceasing signs of human activity all around. It was loud — damn, those birds! — and it was way too quiet at the same time.

Josh got out of the van, sat down looking at the sea, eyes still glued shut by sleep. He felt an eerie kind of loneliness. Was that what nature felt like? How did those country people even deal with it?

To be honest here, Josh’s surroundings were not as remotely wild as he imagined it. That was dramatic flair. The south eastern coast of England was on average pretty heavily constructed, its shore drowned in concrete. The place where they had parked and slept was no exception.

It was half an hour before Andy woke up, enough time for Josh to learn how much colder it was when the sun was barely rising.

He heard the door sliding open first. “Up early, are you?” said Andy. He yawned. “Is the sea breeze suddenly making your lifestyle healthy?”

Josh explained his sleeping trouble, went back inside shivering to add a blanket to what he was wearing. He had held off long enough to let Andy wake up naturally.

They had a cold breakfast. Josh was tired of bread and jam, bread and ham, anything on bread really. He swore to use his last bucks to get a decent camping gas stove. Boiled eggs in the morning! Maybe bacon! He salivated on the jam just thinking about it.

Andy thought for a while about Josh’s sleep-related troubles. “You know we don’t have to follow that precise route to get to France, right? I mean, precisely following the coast is way longer, so if it makes you loose sleep on top of that, I don’t see why we couldn’t go on a national road, cross through London and be out of the country tonight.”

Josh was mildly outraged. “It’s the scenic route!” he said. “I mean, I’ve never done it, but more than that, we’re leaving the country for good or at least for a while… It’s like a goodbye tour for the motherland!”

Andy shrugged. “Better get used to the seagulls, then. Birds seem to like you an awful lot, don’t they?”

Josh avoided answering. He wanted a good warm coffee. That was another thing you could make on a gas stove.

At last it was Andy’s turn to take the wheel. Even with his love of cars, Josh was getting tired of always driving both of them around. He had ran away from his driver’s job, damn it! For another reason altogether, but still. In his eyes, he deserved a good break.

He spent the whole morning looking out the window, comparing the worth of different car models. Sometimes the road would come very close to the sea and Josh would roll down the window, smell the salty wind. He generally behaved like they were on vacation. At noon, Andy decided he needed a break too and they stopped along an esplanade.

The sun had turned the sea a vivid green, foaming white when water met sand. Little cabins banded together, thinking they could have been sail boats.

While Josh settled on the concrete wall, Andy went back inside to get some help from a bottle. That was the relaxation he needed. He’d have to shop again soon, though: with all of yesterday’s bad blood, he was already down a good third of his supply.

They had sandwiches again, Josh complaining about something like a need for decent foods. Andy thought the sandwiches were great: they could last days when properly kept, they tasted fine and required neither cooking nor dish-washing of any kind. Hard to compete with that.

As soon as he was done, Josh ran inside the van and came out in seemingly new swimming trunks. “I knew they would come in handy,” he said. The day was warm enough to go for a dip.

At some point, Andy felt like pulling te brakes on the fun. It was more than time to go on and Josh behaved like if they could have spent the week there, camping out with the van and sunbathing all day.

“Span… Joshua, do you know why I’m trying to put some distance between the guys and us?” said Andy. Josh was really the only one that could get a rise out of him that quick.

“Hm,” said Josh. Squinting his eyes, he tried looking beyond the obvious answer. “Because… we don’t want them to find us?”

“Precisely,” said Andy. “Now, what do you thing they would do with us if they did?”

“Man, let’s not talk about that”, said Josh, still oblivious, “it makes me think of what happened to Johnny.”

“Yeah,” said Andy, faking a memory lapse, “how did he end up getting caught again?”

Josh snorted. “That dumb fuck!” he said, laughing. “He was just hanging out with his girl the next town over without a care in the world… Oh.”

The realization of what Andy was saying was like a cold shower. “Well, it’s not exactly the same,” Josh argued.

“No, it’s OK,” said Andy, “Don’t worry about it. I’m curious to know what they’d do to your ears this time around.”

“OK,” said Josh, anxious, “I got your drift, you can stop now. Let’s move and cross that border already.”

He quickly dried himself with his towel, put a shirt and shoes on and started walking towards the car. Andy was still put, looking at the sea with a thin smile.

Josh turned back towards him, swinging the rest of his clothes in one hand. He looked impatient and angry. “So, are you coming or not?”

Andy smiled wider.