All That Is Lost Between Us (18 page)

The moment lengthens, as though they are both waiting for the other's next move. Zac's eye-line is drawn towards Maddie's bright pink bra strap, visible thanks to the wide neck of her jumper. He is mesmerised by that strip of material and the pale skin either side of it. He imagines putting his fingers just there, hooking his thumb underneath the strap, how easy it would be to pull it down, how soft and warm her skin would be. His hand trembles.

Maddie suddenly moves away from him to the end of the bed, leaning back against his pillow. When she speaks again her tone is more matter of fact. ‘There's something going on with Sophia – I mean, before the accident.'

Zac's disappointment is tempered by curiosity. ‘What makes you say that?'

‘She's snuck out a few times, the last time was only a few nights ago. I watched her run across the lawn and get into a car – it's always after midnight. She doesn't come back for hours. Mum and Dad don't know, and now I'm not sure whether to tell them. I mean, it was a hit-and-run, right? That sounds random, doesn't it? But now that woman is lurking around the hospital. And when Sophia came back the last time, I could hear her crying in her room. There's something going on, and I don't know whether I'll make it better or worse for her if I tell.'

Zac is riveted. He thinks of Georgia's secret, the evidence in his pocket. Does Maddie's revelation have anything to do with his sister? She is Sophia's best friend – surely she knows about her cousin's troubles? Or has she been too distracted by her own?

‘Maybe you should try to find out a bit more,' he says. ‘What about if you check Sophia's phone the next time you're at the hospital? Surely you'll find something on there.'

Maddie looks worried. ‘She'll kill me.'

‘I doubt it – she's hardly in any state to get cross with you. Otherwise you'll have to wait till she's well enough for you to ask her, and then hope she'll talk to you. But if she's anything like Georgia . . .'

Maddie stares at the posters on his wall. They are all for Xbox games, dark and grim, and he wonders what she's thinking.

‘Shit, Zac, this is way too hard.' Maddie pulls her long hair over one shoulder and begins to comb her fingers through it, examining the ends. ‘Shall we go downstairs and watch a film or something?'

Zac wants to prolong this time, to keep her to himself for as long as he can. He racks his brains. ‘Why don't we take Arthur for a walk?' he suggests.

She frowns at him and he suspects she will say no, but then she shrugs. ‘Okay.'

He almost leaves his phone in his room. It will stop him confiding in Maddie, since Georgia's secret isn't his to tell. It might also relieve the constant pressure in his skull. But at the last second he decides he needs the evidence close by. So, he pats his pocket to check his mobile is there, and then follows her downstairs.

A
s they reach home, all Georgia wants is to be left alone. She plans to head straight for her room once her mother unlocks the front door, but they find Zac and Maddie blocking the corridor, putting on shoes and collecting jackets. Before Georgia has even realised Arthur is with them, he clocks her and leaps up, his claws finding her ribs, making her wince.

‘Maddie, what are you doing here?' Her mum pulls off her coat as she speaks. ‘And Zac, what on earth . . . why aren't you at school?'

‘Don't tell me you're slacking off, Zac?' Georgia says, as she attempts to push away Arthur's enthusiastic advances. ‘There's a first.'

To her surprise, her brother glares at her. ‘Shut up, Georgia.'

‘Zac!' Her mother interjects.

‘Sorry.' He turns away.

Zac is always so amiable. What has happened? Georgia tries to catch his eye to apologise, but he won't look at her. A few tendrils of unease brush against her neck, leaving her skin tingling.

‘I had a headache, so I came home early,' he explains. ‘And Dad brought Maddie back about an hour ago.'

Their mother sits on the stairs to unzip her boots. ‘Well, Maddie's visit must have helped you make a miraculous recovery, if you're off out now.'

Zac turns away quickly, but not before Georgia sees him redden. ‘We're taking Arthur for a walk,' he mumbles. Georgia feels sorry for him. Can't their mother see that Zac has gone all weird around Maddie lately?

‘How's Sophia?' Georgia asks her cousin.

‘We're not sure yet. I was hoping Mum and Dad would have called by now, they said they'd let us know when she comes round from the sedatives.'

Is it Georgia's imagination, or does Maddie seem wary of her too? These worries are making her woozy. ‘I'm going for a lie down,' she announces, and steps quickly past her mother, taking the rest of the stairs two at a time without waiting for a response.

She falls onto her bed and puts a hand over her eyes. As she lies there, she hears the front door open and close, and Arthur's barking grows distant.

‘Can I get you anything?'

Without needing to look, she can picture her mother standing in the doorway with that unbearable concerned expression on her face, the one that makes Georgia feel like she's shrinking.
Go away
.
Go away
. She rolls towards the wall. ‘No, thank you,' she manages, her voice muffled by the pillow. ‘I just need to rest.'

‘I think that's a good idea, Gee-Gee.'

Georgia hasn't heard that old baby name in a long time.
Don't
, she tells herself as her eyes moisten. Then her mother kills the moment by adding, ‘And you know what you should do if you really want to rest – turn off your bloody phone.'

Georgia huffs as she sits up and pulls the phone from her pocket. She holds her finger over the on/off button and then flings it onto her bedside table. ‘Satisfied?'

‘For now.'

Georgia stares down her mother's smile until it fades.

‘Right, then, I'll wake you if there's any news.'

And, finally, Georgia is left alone.

As soon as her mother has gone she switches her phone back on, and slams it onto the table. Her brain is cement, and her eyes are scratchy, yet sleep won't come anywhere near her. Memories arrive in bursts, making her whole body pulsate. She's been on high alert ever since she turned and saw the car, those headlights dazzling her. No matter how much she tries, she can't reassure herself that she is safe.

Against her better judgement, she pulls her diary from its hiding place and slides the photo out from the back pages.

It's the only photo she has to remind her of Leo.

Now, whenever she thinks of him it is as though she is telling herself a story – but this
was
real, only a few short weeks ago. She can still feel his hands on her skin the first time he kissed her, that day at the lake.

•  •  •

There had been a few Red Admirals milling around a patch of ivy when she arrived at Rothay Park, and she watched, hypnotised, as the butterflies danced and swooped. By the time Leo said, ‘Georgia!' he was surprisingly close, and his presence set off a swarm of activity in her stomach. He leaned over and kissed her cheek in greeting, and her skin buzzed at the spot his lips touched.

‘Great day for a run,' he said.

‘Yes.' She felt awkward hovering there, the bright, still day juxtaposed with the tornado of emotions she was barely holding at bay. She needed to move. ‘Shall we go?'

They set off, the sun brazen in the empty blue sky. They didn't talk as they crossed the little bridge over the Rothay River and were soon intent on navigating the first steep climb.

The road became path, and the path became narrower. After about fifteen minutes they came across a miniature lake.

‘Where are we now?' Leo asked as they slowed.

‘This is Lily Tarn,' she told him. ‘Lovely, hey – but we're heading a bit further up yet.'

As they moved on, she guided them away from the main walking route. The uneven path grew steeper, and became strewn with rocks and loose stones, until sections of the trail were little more than flattened grass and bracken. Georgia took the lead, searching for the best footholds. She could tell that Leo was finding this more taxing than the runs they had done together previously. Fell-running wasn't just about speed or strength, it was about knowing where to plant your feet, and the spring in your step that moved you between tufts of heather, rocky boulders and loose shale. Georgia knew she was fleet-footed – it was why she had been the school fell-running champion for the past two years – but she was also aware how often off-road runners injured themselves. Fell-running tested the mind as much as the body. Agility could not be taken for granted.

Leo trailed her until they reached Loughrigg Tarn.

‘Wow, is this Loughrigg?' he panted, and when she nodded he stopped and rested, bent over with his hands on his knees.

‘I'm impressed,' he said when he looked up. ‘That was hard going at times.'

Georgia had her hands on her hips, shaking her legs out, trying to regain her own breath. ‘Thanks,' she said. ‘We definitely deserve a rest.'

They walked across the grass to a sheltered spot not far from a group of trees that overlooked the water.

‘This is the quintessential English view, surely.' Leo seemed absorbed in the breathtaking scene before him. Beyond the lake, the gentle rolling green hills were generously dappled with blossoming trees, and all this formed an intricate hemline for the larger, steeper Langdale peaks behind. Directly in front of Leo and Georgia, the whole vast and verdant scene was perfectly mirrored in the still waters of the tarn.

Leo sank to his knees as Georgia produced a small towel from her backpack. She set out the bread and cheese she had brought, and Leo added fruit salad and juice.

‘It's like a postcard, isn't it?' Georgia said. ‘And it's good we're up here early.' She couldn't see anyone else close by yet. ‘By lunchtime it will probably be busy.'

As they ate, Georgia began to enjoy her role as tour guide. She told him that this place was well known as one of Wordsworth's favourites. Then she began to describe her own favourite place, Haweswater, which sometimes dried up enough to reveal the skeleton of a village that had been drowned to make the reservoir when her grandfather was a boy. When he seemed intrigued by the local folklore, she mentioned the spirit roads – one in particular that could be followed all the way from Mardale to Swindale Head, and the one close to her house, where they had issued dares to one another as kids.

Leo had been fascinated. ‘Dorset has its folktales and its beauty spots, but I don't think they can compete with this.'

He asked her about the local running clubs, and Georgia outlined the rules and rivalries of each one. He laughed at her descriptions of some of the stalwarts, and he would hold her gaze for just a fraction too long, until she had to look away to get the breath back into her lungs. They moved on to talk about the best places for a night out, and Georgia was just trying to decide on her favourite pub when he suddenly said, ‘These are delicious, try one,' and fed her a strawberry. His fingers were warm against her lips, making her blush and leading them into a pressing silence that was only toppled when Leo pointed towards the ridge of the hill. ‘What's
that
?'

Georgia had already spotted the large yellow object bobbing slowly against the skyline. ‘I think it's a giant banana,' she laughed.

‘Why on earth is someone up here in a banana costume?'

‘Running for charity, probably. You'd be surprised what you see up here. Don't be fooled by the emptiness – there's rarely a dull day on the fells. My dad'll testify to that.'

They watched the jogging banana make its way slowly across the horizon, until it disappeared from sight. A few other walkers kept a steady pace in the distance, but no one else had yet reached the water.

Georgia turned to Leo. ‘So, are you ready to bag your first tarn?'

He smiled, and pulled off his T-shirt in one movement. She tried not to stare at his bare chest, although her pulse began a frenzied tribal dance that made her turn away quickly. They both bent to pull off their footwear and socks. She had worn her swimming costume underneath her running singlet and shorts, and stripped down to it self-consciously, aware he was openly watching as he waited for her.

‘Come on,' she said, her skin goose-pimpled despite the warm morning. She hugged her arms over her chest. ‘We can get in over here.'

He followed her as she picked her way between rocks to a point where the grass gave way to a muddy bank level with the edge of the water. They began to wade in, and Georgia felt the mud squelch between her toes. At least she hoped it was mud – she knew from experience that the odd cow ventured down to the waterline, but she didn't want to spoil the moment. She tested each place carefully before putting her foot down properly and releasing her weight, wincing as she hit a congregation of sharp stones that lurked beneath the surface.

Leo had waded ahead, but when he checked back and saw her struggling he came across to her and held out his hand. ‘Here . . .'

She grabbed his fingers and let him help her into deeper water, aware of his warm, steady grip. When the water licked the insides of her thighs, he turned to her, still holding her hand. ‘Okay?'

Only when she nodded did he let go. For a second his gaze remained on her, then without warning he flicked showers of freezing water at her, making her squeal. Usually the water wasn't too cold, but today everywhere it touched made her wince. She could hardly breathe.

Leo didn't seem to notice. ‘Come on, then,' he chuckled, and was swimming before she could respond. ‘If you can beat me to the other side, I'll buy you dinner.'

He swam away with long front-crawl strokes, scattering ducks in his wake. His words danced in her ears, she was desperate to win. However, even though Georgia was an excellent swimmer she knew she wouldn't catch him. As she sank down to her shoulders and her feet pushed off from the stones, the water stretched away from her, the surface shimmering like oil, the body of the lake slippery and resistant to her movements. Despite all her training, next to Leo she felt like a pretender, waiting for the magic ingredient that would transform her into a real athlete.