The Personal Shopper (43 page)

‘She persuaded us to lend her money from the fund. She said she needed it to get treatment and she’d get it back from her dad, as soon as he was back in the country. But I think . . . we all think . . . she’s taken the money and spent it with her boyfriend. She’s never going to ask her dad now and I’ve no idea how we’re going to get it back and’ – her voice raised to a desperate crescendo – ‘we’re all going to get expelled once this comes out.’

The sobbing broke out anew.

Although this was a problem, Annie couldn’t help breathing something of a sigh of relief that, for Lana at least, it wasn’t nearly as awful as Annie had imagined.

‘Lana,’ Annie began, ‘don’t worry. OK? Try not to worry. I wish you’d told me sooner.’

‘You’ve been so busy with Gray,’ came the accusation.

‘I am never, ever too busy for you, OK?’ Annie looked over at her daughter. ‘But we will sort this out. Blimey,’ she added several moments later. ‘There’s never a dull moment with you around, is there?’

‘Mum?’ Lana asked, wiping her face and looking over at the person she now wished she’d confided in weeks ago. ‘Are we going to carry on living with Gray?’

Annie, looking straight ahead, nudging the Jeep back over into the fast lane and putting it up into sixth gear, let out a deep sigh before confiding, ‘No, babes, and I’m so, so sorry. I thought he was going to be really good for all of us. I wouldn’t have put
you through another move if I hadn’t thought it was the best thing to do. I am so sorry.’

‘We’ll have to move again,’ Lana pointed out.

‘I know.’

‘Where to?’ Lana wondered, knowing full well that they couldn’t go back to their flat for months.

‘I’m working on that,’ Annie told her and began to
 
chew her lip. ‘We’ll go back to town though . . . definitely. I can’t stand Upper Ploxley,’ she added with feeling. ‘Where am I supposed to go for a coffee? Let alone a nice pair of shoes.’

Lana giggled at her, which made Annie feel slightly better about the decisions ahead.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Annie outdoors:

Maroon cagoule (village shop)

Maroon waterproof trousers (village shop)

Navy hiking boots (village shop)

Est. cost: £50

‘I can’t . . . I just can’t!’

Lana tried and failed to reach Owen on the mobile as the Jeep ate up the miles between them. Close to two hours had passed when Annie exited the motorway and, using the map they’d bought at a service station, began to navigate the smaller, twisty roads that led to the campsite.

The towns and red-roofed housing estates had fallen away now and they’d entered gentle green countryside: first farms with patchwork fields and then the roll of hills began.

It was damp weather. The highest peaks had wispy cloud clinging to their summits and the smell of fresh, moss-scented air was coming in through the Jeep’s heating system.

Annie wanted to know if Lana was all right about a visit to Even Ridge.

‘If Owen’s going to do it – or if he’s already done it – then I will too,’ came the quiet reply. But after a little while, Lana asked: ‘Mum? It’s OK to be nervous, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, of course it’s OK to be nervous,’ Annie assured her, ‘I’m absolutely terrified.’

Soon, the Jeep was moving slowing through the high street of the small town closest to the camp-site as Lana tried to decipher Owen’s map. They’d decided to look for Ed and Owen at the camp-site first, then if there was no sign of them, head on to Even Ridge by themselves.

But suddenly Lana shouted: ‘Look, over there! I think that’s Owen!’

Sure enough, walking with his back turned to them was her brother and several feet behind him, recognizable by his nest of hair, was Ed.

Annie sped up a little to get ahead of them and after a
 
quick pause and indication, pulled up on the left. Moments later, she and Lana were on the pavement, standing in front of the surprised campers.

‘Mum?’ Owen spoke first. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘We came into town to look for a phone box,’ Ed began, in no doubt as to why Annie was here. ‘But we’ve not been able to get through to you.’

‘Owen has a phone,
’ Annie pointed out
. ‘Why couldn’t he have used that?’

‘No reception,’ Ed answered, a picture of calm.

‘Owen, d
on’t you think it would have been a good idea to tell me about your plan?’
Annie asked, but gently now.

‘What plan?’ Owen stall
ed, trying for just one moment longer to avoid the inevitable showdown he’d been dreading ever since Ed had told him, kindly but firmly, that no, he couldn’t possibly take him up to Even Ridge without his mother’s full permission and blessing.

Annie took Owen’s drawings out of the back pocket of her trousers and held them out to him.

‘I knew you’d say no,’ Owen burst out. ‘I wasn’t going to tell Ed either . . . and I have . . . and now it’s all ruined.’

His face was suddenly pale with a bright spot of red in each cheek. Annie knew this meant he was very upset, or very angry, maybe both.

‘I should be allowed to see Dad’s place!’ he added in a surprisingly loud voice.

‘I haven’t driven all this way to tell you no,’ she said, hugely relieved to realize that they hadn’t gone up to the ridge yet. ‘Lana and I came here because if it’s so important to you to go, then we’ll go with you.’

Annie saw Owen’s shoulders loosen a little and for a moment she thought he was going to cry.

‘I was about to take Owen for a scone,’ Ed chipped in, patting Owen on the shoulder. ‘It’s still too misty to do any serious hill walking. But it looks li
ke it’s going to clear up
, so in the meantime I think we should hide out at “Edna’s tea corner” over there. Great cakes in the window,’ he added cheerfully.

All three Valentines felt deeply grateful for Ed’s tension-breaking enthusiasm for home baking.

***

Annie looked at herself in the mirror with undisguised horror: ‘An anorak? An anorak??!!’ she repeated. ‘I don’t do anoraks.’

Especially, she thought to herself, when they are maroon cagoules paired with –
horror of horrors
– maroon waterproof trousers, tucked into –
this can’t be happening
– hiking boots.

The whole outfit was available for £50. Double discount day special in the town’s little outward-bound clothing shop.

Her children were giggling. Ed had one arm folded across his woolly-jumpered chest, the other was propped up as, chin in hand, blue eyes twinkly, he scrutinized her a little too carefully.

‘Oh, now that is sooo you,’ he said,
displaying a surprising talent for impersonation
. ‘Brings out the colour in your cheeks, wouldn’t you say, Lana?’

Lana’s giggles grew louder.

‘And the trousers, they co-ordinate so well,’ he added. ‘Who’d have thought of putting those two together? Very clever.’

Annie couldn’t decide whether to laugh at him or hit him.

‘Do I have to wear this? All of it?’ she pleaded once again.

He nodded his head: ‘Oh yes. Strictly necessary. I’m going to insist you put the hood up and tie it tightly round your face as well.’

‘But we’re just walking up a hill . . .’ she tried one last time.

He shook his head and told her: ‘You need proper kit.’

‘Mum, you look fine,’ Lana encouraged her, although Annie couldn’t help feeling this was a bare-faced lie. Maroon? Why did the only things left on the bargain rail in her size have to be
maroon
? The colour she’d overdosed on in those vulnerable years aged 13 to 15. She remembered ‘pleather’ pixie boots in almost this exact shade.

Ed had broken the news to her gently after the teas had been drunk and an impressive amount of Edna’s home baking consumed: ‘If we’re going to go up Even Ridge, Annie, then you’ll have to get some waterproofs and a pair of walking boots.’

‘Cagoules can get a bit sweaty,’ he was warning her now, ‘I like a nice breathable anorak, myself, Gore-Tex lined.’ He held up his bright yellow and navy serious mountaineer’s bit of kit for her examination, but added, ‘That really adds to the price though and if you’re not planning on doing much . . .’

‘No.’ Annie shook her head. ‘Definitely not planning on doing much hill walking, especially if it involves getting dressed up like this. Couldn’t they just have made a nod or two to passing trends?’ she wondered aloud. ‘Skinny trouser bottoms? Colours from this century’s palette?’

‘It’s practical,’ Ed told her.

‘It’s criminal,’ she insisted.

She pulled the maroon hood on and tied the drawstring tight round her face so that she peered out like an owl.

‘I can’t . . . I just can’t,’ she made one final protest.

‘All set then?’ Ed asked, ignoring her pleas.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Ed up a hill:

Navy blue waterproof trousers (Tiso)

Ancient hiking boots (Army and Navy Stores)

Two long-sleeved T-shirts (vintage)

Yellow Gore-Tex anorak (Tiso)

Small waterproof backpack (Tiso)

Est. cost: £160

‘Let’s try and enjoy the ride.’

The walk towards Even Ridge began straight after the purchase of the maroon waterproofs, once Ed had satisfied himself that every single person definitely wanted to go, and that they were all absolutely sure they
 
wanted him to come with them.

There was some chatter at the start, but it was of the nervous, rather than the cheerful kind.

Twenty minutes or so into the climb, the talk dried up
 
and the four were walking along in silence, in single file, concentrating on the narrow, steadily rising path. Annie found herself thinking hard in the quiet.

Ed had showed th
em on the map the way the
path curved right along the face of the hill, moving slowly up to the summit and then bringing walkers back down by a different route.

‘It’s about two and a half hours’ walk, all in,’ he’d told them. ‘Do you know roughly where we’re aiming for?’ he’d asked.

Annie had shaken her head in reply to this, but told him: ‘I don’t think it’s far from the top.’

‘OK, fine.’ Ed had smiled at them encouragingly as he’d pulled up the zip on his neon yellow jacket: ‘We’ll just put one foot in front of the other. Keep going .
. . Let’s try and enjoy the walk
.’

A gentle grey drizzle was still blanking out both sky and sun and wrapping itself all around them. Within fifteen minutes of starting the walk, Annie felt damp everywhere. Her face was running with drizzly wet, her body underneath the waterproof outfit was clammy
.

She watched her feet moving for a while, clumpy in the brand new navy hiking boots. Put one foot in front of the other, as Ed had instructed. She tried to concentrate hard on this rather than think too much about where they were heading. It wasn’t a difficult walk. The path was about three feet wide and stony: it was damp but only very slightly slippery.