All That Is Lost Between Us (32 page)

‘I'll explain in a minute. Come on, I don't want to miss Georgia coming in – she deserves to see us all cheering for her after what she's been through.'

She marches off and Callum follows, Zac shambling next to him. He glances towards his son for clues, but Zac is hunched into himself, his mind elsewhere. What is happening to his family today?

The hillside is still empty, and the rain hasn't let up. It blurs the view, forcing Callum to repeatedly look down to clear his vision.

‘Zac, go and wait inside,' he insists, ‘you must be freezing.'

‘I'm fine.' Zac doesn't move.

Anya pulls her hood up and stands with her arms folded, a belligerent gaze fixed on the tree line.

Callum edges closer. ‘Come on, tell me what's going on.'

‘Just wait a sec, will you. If I start now I don't know what mood we'll be in by the time Georgia comes down that hill. Let's just watch her come in, okay? We can sort the rest later.'

‘All right.' Callum puts a hand on her arm to reassure her. Anya doesn't shift her gaze but she pats his fingers as though to say thank you. They are taking baby steps, but it is something.

‘It must be a nightmare, running in this,' Callum says. ‘She's going to be muddy.'

‘For once I don't care,' Anya replies. ‘I just want her back safely.'

‘As fell runs go, the school championship has got to be one of the safest. I don't think the first-aid tent has been used at all today.'

He regrets this comment, as they both automatically glance across, and there is Danielle, under the awning, watching them rather than the field. Callum hopes that Anya doesn't sense anything more than eye contact, but he can't help but rapidly avert his gaze. He quashes his disappointment – of course this will take time. He wonders what Anya will say when he announces he's taking a break from mountain rescue. He opens his mouth to tell her, but stops himself. Now is not the time.

There is nothing to do except wait. He keeps checking his watch, imagining Georgia on her run, visualising her speeding down the hillside first, as though he might will her into winning. He knows that someone will appear at any moment. Beside him, Zac is huddled against the rain, his clothes clinging to his skin and his hair glued to his forehead. Usually Zac would be playing on his phone inside the hall; they would have to find him and tell him the result. He'd give Georgia a high five and that would be it. Why is he out here today, unable to keep still, waiting for his sister to come back?

Callum doesn't have time to ask. The first runner appears at the top of the hill. A boy – which is to be expected. As he flies down the slope, his feet slipping and sliding as he somehow manages to retain his balance, the parents begin to stream out of the hall. Suddenly everyone is making noise – catcalls and loud cheers take over the field. Almost immediately there are a few more figures in the distance – and Callum sees the boy Georgia was standing with at the start. He's towards the head of the pack, his nimble feet on the descent helping him to challenge for second place.

The winner breaks through the finish-line barrier, flapping weak arms victoriously before staggering, sodden and exhausted, towards his back-slapping family. Callum tries to focus on the hill as the next runners arrive.

And there's the first girl.

It's not Georgia. After a wave of despondency he quickly rallies. He knows how good she is at the downhill, as long as she's not too far behind. He counts the seconds under his breath, willing her to appear next. But she doesn't. As the second girl begins the descent, the leader makes the mistake of looking back and takes a tumble on the hillside. She rights herself and carries on, but she is sobbing as she wins the girls' race. Her thoughtful parents have a towel ready; they cloak her in comfort and lead her away.

Callum's eyes never leave the tree line as the trickle of runners becomes a stream. They sprint down the hill, some at full pelt despite the gruelling conditions and the medals already won. They rush through the finish line, stumble to a stop and are each collected by waiting arms.

‘Where the hell is she?' Anya asks, her hands on her hips. Beside them, Zac doesn't take his eyes off the horizon.

‘I don't know – she should be here. They said she was towards the lead.'

As he says these words, the ground Callum stands on seems to shift beneath his feet, as though he's surfing a tidal wave on this landlocked field in the rain. On all sides of them are congratulations and commiserations. The crowd flows and ebbs between their three still, expectant figures. None of them can bear to voice the fears that slide towards them, gathering like an avalanche, preparing to sweep them away.

But when no more runners come down the hill for a whole minute, then two, Callum and Anya turn to each other. For a fraction of a second they are caught in the mirror of one other's panic, and then they rally.

Callum hurries back to the marshals, with Anya and Zac right behind him.

‘Jimmy, Georgia isn't back yet,' he says. ‘Please can you check on her?'

‘Really?' Jimmy looks concerned. ‘Of course. Hang on a second.' He puts his two-way close to his mouth, and turns away from the hubbub.

Anya is back on her phone. ‘I'm trying her mobile now.' Her words are rapid, her tone breathless. Her hand is trembling. ‘Voicemail,' she says, putting it on speaker so they can all hear. Callum watches the colour drain from her face.

Jimmy turns back to them. ‘The last marshal hasn't seen her,' he says, his brow furrowed. ‘He said he'll walk the route, in case she's had a fall.' He claps Callum on the back. ‘Don't worry, she won't be far. She's probably sitting somewhere with a sprained ankle, unable to get decent mobile reception.'

Callum's thoughts skitter, desperately wanting to believe him. His instincts, however, are raging at him, convinced there is more.

Anya is right next to him. Instinctively his eyes find hers. The pause is swifter than a heartbeat, but in that second the chasm between them is no longer dark and deep and empty. Instead there is a roaring in Callum's ears; all that he most loves and fears is tumbling over and over itself, filling every part of him. He knows Anya feels it too – their purpose united in the racing heart that's lost somewhere in the woods above them.

Find her, Callum. Go.

And he is charging up the hill.

A
s soon as Georgia turns onto the path towards home, everything seems different. Light makes new inroads through the trees; branches knit and weave fresh patterns above her, deflecting the rain. Water no longer invades her eyes and mouth, but glistens in soft, pretty drops that form shimmering crystals across the whole forest. She zigzags along the track, jumping over the biggest puddles, each step unwinding the mess in her head. She tries to shake the tension out of her muscles, but they react by squeezing tighter despite her encouragement. She's going to be in pain tomorrow.

It has been hard to walk this route lately without thinking of Leo, because she always has to pass the very first spot she saw him. Will there ever be a day she comes this way and only afterwards realises he hasn't gone through her mind? She hopes so. Perhaps if she walked here often enough with Danny, then those memories would replace Leo. But is Danny even speaking to her any more? He's probably too busy celebrating. Before long he'll be laughing about that photo with his friends.

Her good mood begins to disperse, and she quickens her pace. The sooner she is home, the better.

She imagines her parents waiting for her, back at school, and has a pang of guilt. They will be so disappointed. She debates turning around, just for them – but the thought of publicly coming in last is mortifying. Still, she can't leave them waiting. She had better get in touch and let them know what she's done.

She pulls her phone out of her zip pocket, and sees she has already missed a call. Before she can redial, it rings in her hand. To her surprise she sees Sophia's name on the screen. Quickly, she answers the call.

‘Where the hell have you been?' Sophia asks without preamble. ‘I've been trying to get in touch with you all morning.'

‘I've been running,' Georgia says. ‘And before that, Zac disappeared with my phone. I've done something a bit crazy actually: I decided to walk home in the middle of the race – Mum's going to kill me.' Saying this out loud makes it ludicrously real. A hysterical giggle escapes her mouth.

‘Tell me about that later,' Sophia cuts in, her voice stern, her tone sweeping the smile from Georgia's face. ‘Listen to me now. My mum has just phoned yours. I had to confess everything. Mum is fuming, and Dad keeps looking at me like I kicked his puppy.'

‘You told them about the guy you were seeing?'

‘Yes, and listen, Georgia, I met him online. And, the thing is – I'm really, really,
really
sorry, but when I signed up for the dating site, I put your name in. I was just a bit nervous – it felt safer to combine our details. I thought you'd find it funny . . . it wasn't meant to lead to all this trouble. But you've been so distant and serious lately that I couldn't tell you. And then I had all these emails from different guys, and I got a bit distracted.'

‘You mean you pretended to be me?'

‘Well, only because I had to answer to the name Georgia, which was a bit weird, but I got stuck with it. No offence. I started seeing this bloke – Robbie. It was brilliant to begin with, but I didn't want my parents to find out because he's a bit older than us. What I didn't know until the other day was that he also has a fiancée – the
shit
.'

While listening to Sophia, Georgia emerges from the woods a short distance from home. There's about fifty metres of road before she reaches the house, and she immediately spots a white car parked just beyond their driveway. It's facing her on the opposite side of the road, peeping around a bend.

‘I think his fiancée has gone crazy – I think she tried to run us over.' Sophia is talking in a rush now. ‘I had a big fight with Robbie on Wednesday night. He told me that we needed to cool things for a while. I wanted him to front up and discuss everything face to face, so on Thursday I texted him Bethany's address, asking him to meet me. When he didn't reply, I thought that was it. But now I think maybe his girlfriend came to find me instead.'

Georgia is trying to take in all this information as she makes her way towards the house, when a woman with long, dark hair gets out of the white car, slamming the door. ‘Er, Sophia . . .'

‘When I came round, I had a voicemail from Robbie saying his fiancée had read the messages on his phone and gone berserk. And when Dad showed me the photo of the woman prowling round the hospital, something clicked. Then it came back to me – Danny running after you in the street and shouting, “Georgia!” I think she was waiting for me that night, and now she's muddled up. She thinks
you're
the one sleeping with Robbie.'

The woman stands by the car, shielding her eyes from the drizzle.

Georgia stops walking.

‘So, you think this is the person who tried to run us over?' she asks quietly.

Her house is so close – she is almost at the wall that encloses the front garden. Surely she can get there without having to deal with this stranger.

‘I think she tried to run
you
over – and got me instead. Ironically.'

The woman takes a step forward. Then two. If Georgia doesn't make a dash for it soon she will never make it in time; she is going to have to confront this woman.

‘Sophia?' Georgia says uncertainly, stopping in the road.

‘What?' Sophia's tone is wary, she has picked up something in Georgia's voice.

‘Do you think that woman is dangerous?'

‘Yes, Georgia, she rammed her car into me. That's pretty fucking dangerous.'

‘Well, I'm walking towards my house, and there's a woman watching me – she just got out of a white car. Do you think it's her?'

The woman takes a few more steps, speeding up. Her face is blank. Determined.

‘Oh god, I don't know!' Sophia sounds panicked.

‘Sophia, what do I do?'

‘Are you on your own?'

‘Yes.'

‘Then run!'

There is no time to end the call. The woman is almost at the garden gate. Georgia doesn't wait. She dashes for the cover of the woods, careening onto the muddy path once more. She continues at full speed for a hundred metres then looks around, hoping the woman won't have followed, but she can hear jogging footsteps and then a high-pitched voice shrieks, ‘Stop, Georgia! I need to talk to you.'

The words jolt Georgia back into a run, but her phone slips from her grasp and disappears into a puddle with a plop. She curses and plucks it out, no time to check it, only to get further into the forest where she'll be safe.

Ordinarily she would be confident in her sprinting ability, but her muscles are already screaming from the race, and before long she is reduced to a hobble. She swings around, eyes never straying from the path, straining to hear footsteps, but her own breathing is so loud in her ears she can't make out anything else. A breeze blows from behind her, like icy breath on her neck, and she turns slowly in circles. Ten metres beyond her in each direction, the path bends out of sight. If someone is lurking, they could charge and be on her in seconds.

Trees and branches leer in. Each rustle becomes a whisper. There is a gurgling sound nearby, like a person struggling for breath. She tells herself it's a small waterfall, but she doesn't recall anything like that near here.

She bends double for a moment, trying to draw in oxygen, and when she straightens up the forest is spinning. There is no option except to hide, but she doesn't dare take her eyes off the track. She staggers backwards until she is on thick grass, and her foot finds a divot as the ground slopes away. Suddenly she has lost her balance, flailing at nothing. She lands hard, jarring her back, her head cracking against something sharp. She sits up slowly as the back of her skull begins to throb, and she turns around to see a dark grey rock squatting in the grass, its surface a mass of jagged edges. Confused, she touches the back of her head, and the pain is such a surprise that she yells out and pulls her hand away. She smells hot metal and glances down to see her palm is a sodden mixture of dirt and her own bright crimson blood.