All That Is Lost Between Us (11 page)

‘Yep.'

‘Let's go, then.' He turned towards the path.

At the beginning of the run she felt shy, but Leo slipped easily into conversation. He asked her whether she lived in Ambleside – ‘
Just outside, in Fellmere
' – and how long she had worked at the cafe – ‘
A couple of years now
.' She had the impression he thought she was a bit older than seventeen. She wondered how old he was – she guessed early twenties, and it was strange that in just a few years the difference between Leo and the boys she hung out with was so apparent. Most of her classmates still showed traces of puberty in their wispy stubble and soft skin. Leo's jawline was shaded this morning, his physique strong and his movements confident. His cruising speed was also considerably faster than hers, and once they got into a rhythm and their breathing quickened, the conversation began to tail off. Georgia kept falling behind. She was aware that every few minutes Leo had to slow down a little to help her keep up, and he turned around a few times to check she was okay. It began to get embarrassing, although the one distinct advantage of running a few steps behind him was that she could enjoy watching the muscles ripple through his shoulders as he pumped his arms and let her eyes stray regularly down his body.

The route was familiar. The Turners had done plenty of family walks here over the years. Georgia remembered bringing bikes, and Zac racing around their parents, who were holding hands and laughing and telling Zac off for deliberately riding into their legs.
They had been holding hands.
How long had it been since she had seen her mum and dad do that? Normally the way they were with one another just annoyed her, yet today she was scared. It dawned on her for the first time that the careless words and thoughtless actions she had witnessed for a long time were a sign of something much deeper and more troubling.

She had pushed these thoughts away – no way was she going to let her parents' problems intrude on this time alone with Leo. It was a beautiful stretch of pathway, dense woodland on one side and a few sporadic trees against the glistening waterline. Her eyes were continually drawn across the reflections of the tarn to the majestic row of knotty peaks in the distance. Before she knew it, they were reaching the end of the circular route, heading towards the car park.

Leo stopped, bending over to rest his hands on his knees. ‘Do you want to do another lap?'

On coming to a halt, Georgia realised how tired and strained her muscles felt from trying to keep up with him. ‘Of course,' she said, doing her best to hide how much she was hurting. To her relief, once they set off again, Leo slowed his pace and she began to regain her breath.

‘This is one of my family's favourite spots,' she said as they ran. ‘We've been here so many times. My uncle says it's the only flat place he loves as much as the fells. He's a champion fell-runner – have you heard of that?'

‘Yes,' Leo replied. ‘But I've never done it. There weren't many hills where I used to live. I'll definitely give it a try now I'm here, although it sounds tough.'

‘It's a bit crazy. I've watched my uncle in competitions, and I've done quite a lot of runs myself. It's very different to running on the flat. I think Uncle Liam is counting on me to keep the tradition going in our family – my cousins have zero interest and my brother is more of an indoor type.'

‘So, you have a brother? I always wanted a brother. I'm surrounded by sisters – two older, one younger, and they all like to tell me what to do.'

Georgia had laughed. ‘Sounds like my mother. In my family everyone reveres my uncle for his running antics, because he's done the Bob Graham Round twice. Do you know about that?'

‘No . . .'

‘You run forty-two peaks in twenty-four hours.'

‘You're kidding.'

‘Nope. When Uncle Liam first ran it, only a few hundred people had done it. Now it's a couple of thousand, I think. He's in this special club because of it – and he doesn't let anyone forget it. He's a real character: loves a party, and loves a drink too – he doesn't train like you'd expect an athlete to. He goes through spells where all he does is run, and then he won't do anything for a while, until he starts joking about the fells calling to him. It's hard to believe he's Dad's brother sometimes – my dad is much quieter. Uncle Liam was twenty-three when he first ran the Bob Graham Round with one of his mates. He was in hospital afterwards, had to be rehydrated, and one of his ankles was rubbed so raw you could see the ligament. He's still very proud of that scar. The other guy didn't even get halfway.'

‘Bloody hell, he sounds crazy. I love a challenge, but I don't know how far I would get. And your dad?' Leo asked. ‘Is he a fell-runner too?'

‘No, he's an electrical engineer by trade, but he's busy with the Mountain Rescue team as well. Dad's a real hero, actually, picking people like my uncle up off the mountain when they push themselves too hard.'

‘He has two jobs?'

‘No, the mountain rescues are all done by volunteers. You have to have an understanding boss, mind – although, lots of the rescues happen later in the day, when people get stranded as bad weather sets in, or misjudge how long it will take to climb up and down a mountain.'

‘That sounds awesome. He must have some great stories.'

She hesitated, feeling a flurry of nerves at the thought of introducing Leo to her father. She wanted to ask something about Leo's family but she wasn't sure where to start. ‘So what about your dad, what does he do?'

Leo's jaw tightened. ‘He's not in the picture.'

Georgia had felt herself colouring up. ‘Oh, sorry.'

‘It's fine – never has been, so I've never known any different.'

After this, every time she thought of a question she balked, and the conversation trailed off. Georgia tried not to feel the weight of the silence. Instead she'd focused on her technique, making sure she landed well on each foot, keeping her arms relaxed. She was pleased when they rounded a corner and she spotted a distinctive shape up ahead. ‘Come over here a second,' she said, speeding up. ‘I want to show you something.'

She stopped running to pat a huge tree trunk thicker than a car wheel. It had buckled at a strange angle, close to its roots, and bent towards the path.

Leo looked intrigued, then put his hand out and ran his fingers over a few of the thousands of tightly packed rows of coins which had been hammered into the bark, obscuring the trunk. ‘What
is
this?'

‘It's a money tree. There are a few of them in this part of the world.'

He leaned in to inspect them. ‘Is there a story behind it?' he asked, glancing up at her briefly, then back at the coins.

She shrugged. ‘I'm not sure there's anything specific. People do it for good luck – like throwing coins into fountains.'

‘They look like part of the tree, like natural lumps or seeds. I wouldn't have thought they would warp like that.' He pointed to the rows of coins that had curled to rest their exposed tips against the bark. ‘There must be thousands in there.' He patted his pockets. ‘I suppose,' he said, pulling out a two-pence coin, ‘if it's for luck it's only right I add an offering.'

‘My family have put quite a few in there over the years,' Georgia replied as she watched him. ‘Couldn't tell you which ones, though.'

Leo hunted around and found a large stone. He set the coin's tip against a small section of empty bark and tapped it lightly a few times. Then with one swift movement he brought the rock down hard.

‘There,' he said, satisfied.

The force of his blow had made Georgia jump. She had expected him to hammer it in little by little, like her family always had. From memory it had taken them a while to get a coin in far enough to stay put, but Leo's two-pence was now buried deep in the wood.

He smiled at her. ‘Shall we go?'

She nodded. On the tip of her tongue was one of the other stories of the money tree: that if you could drive a nail or coin into a tree with one blow you earned a kiss from your sweetheart. But she didn't say it.

After they set off again, they didn't speak for a while. They crossed a small bridge over a trickling stream and left the woods behind them. The path began to head back to the car park, winding amid a few gentle grassy inclines.

Suddenly Georgia felt desperate. If Leo didn't suggest that they met up again, this could all be over in a few minutes; she wouldn't see him unless they crossed paths on a run or she began to turn up at Tarn Hows every morning, and that seemed a bit too much like stalking. As she tried to keep up with him, she racked her brains for something to suggest, and had an idea. ‘You said you hadn't been on a fell run, right?'

Leo slowed down, staying just ahead of her. ‘Not yet.'

‘I could take you on one if you like – if you're game.'

He turned to her and pulled a face of mock terror. ‘Is that a challenge?'

‘Definitely.' She relaxed as she saw how interested he was. ‘If you haven't done it before, you don't know what you're in for.'

‘All right,' he said, smiling. ‘How can I refuse? I'm in.'

Georgia tried not to grin like an idiot as they continued, and felt slightly deflated when he checked his watch and began to speed up. ‘What time is it?' she asked, worried she'd lost track and her mother would be sending out a search party.

‘It's just gone nine. I've got an appointment this morning – I have to get moving.' He turned to her and grinned. ‘Race you to the finish.'

She was so grateful when they arrived back at the car park that it was an effort to walk – not stagger – over to a nearby bench. Leo had made the whole thing look so effortless, she had expected him to go straight into a cool-down, but to her surprise he threw himself onto the bench beside her, his arms loose by his sides, his chest rising and falling heavily.

‘I'm not normally this worn out,' he said after a while. ‘It must be because you were chasing me!'

‘Hardly! I was practically walking for the last bit!'

They both stared at the sky for long enough that Georgia began to make out the stealthy scudding of a few obese clouds.

‘It's going to rain,' she said absentmindedly.

‘I'm getting used to that here.'

‘Where did you live before?'

‘Dorset.'

Georgia wasn't exactly sure where Dorset was but she knew it was south – a long way from the Lakes. She was about to ask him why he had moved to the Lake District, but Leo was glancing at his watch.

‘I really have to go,' he said. ‘I need to get home and take a shower.' He turned to her. ‘This has been great, Georgia – it's been a change for me. Part of the reason I like running is that it gives me the chance to be alone, clear my head, but I enjoyed teaming up with you. When can we do the fell run?'

‘Whenever you want.' She wanted to add
Tomorrow?
but stopped herself. ‘Friday or Saturday?' she suggested.

‘Saturday sounds good.' He dug his car keys out of his pocket and stood up. ‘Where are we going?'

‘I'll make a plan and text you.'

There was a pause that neither of them seemed sure how to fill, then he gave her a quick wave and smiled. ‘So, I'll see you soon,' he said, then turned and jogged to his car.

She had stayed on the bench for a while, and only the first drops of a light rain squall had been enough to get her moving. She had been giddy from excitement. Surely this was the start of something big.

•  •  •

‘Georgia.'

Her mother's voice intrudes on her memories. Reluctantly, she comes out of her daydream, surprised to find herself sitting on a bench in school. The hallways are much quieter now. How deep had her mind wandered, and for how long?

‘Are you okay? You were lost in thought there.'

‘I'm fine, Mum.' She runs a hand through her hair and looks around, noticing a couple of girls gawking at them as they pass by, hating the audience. ‘Can you just give me some space?'

‘Of course,' her mother replies, infuriatingly matter-of-fact, as always. ‘Mrs Jessop is going to speak to Mr Freeman about the race tomorrow. He might try to talk to you later about it, Georgia, so please think about whether you're up to it. I'm sure no one will blame you if you want to pull out.'

A mix of emotions rush at Georgia. Anger. Fear. Frustration.

‘Stop interfering, Mum.' It's an effort not to shout, and she still raises her voice higher than intended. ‘I
will
be running. End of story.'

Her mum backs away, her sadness obvious. ‘Okay, Georgia, I'll leave you alone.'

When she has gone, Georgia turns to the view again. But the memories won't come back. They are lost in a jumble of worries, and she finds she is shaking.

A
s Callum parks in the hospital grounds, he decides to leave his coat in the car and instead grabs his bright blue and red fleece jacket. It's an instant favourite of his by virtue of the fact that Zac and Georgia bought it for him last Christmas. When Georgia had pointed out they'd chosen Superman colours, he could still hear the strange sound Anya had made – something between a laugh and a snort.

What might have been more useful, however, was a crystal ball to warn him just how many things would be coming his way this year. It was the McCallister incident that had started everything. Callum had argued with Anya that morning six months ago, and she had accused him once again of neglecting the family. They had each got ready for work in silence, but as he had driven along the twisting country roads he kept hearing the pleading echo of her voice. He had felt his hands grow clammy at the thought of driving all the way to the office at Barrow, his breathing quickening as he pictured himself at his desk. His gaze had been drawn to the hills in the distance, and he had pulled up at the side of the road, called work and feigned sickness. After that, for a few minutes he hadn't even had the energy to turn the key in the ignition.