Page 28 of One Summer Weekend
My God. Now I could see why they’d brought me here.
Far below us, like the discarded plaything of a child-giant, sparkled a miniature land – an oasis in a rock-strewn desert. Two shimmering sapphire lakes, studded with tiny boats; along their edges, dense woods and roads jewelled with cars; between them, a jumble of gunmetal roofs and emerald lawns. And rising above all of this, on a scale that took my breath away, the hills.
Involuntarily,as if I needed to register this intense feeling of awe, my hand tightened round Jack’s. I sensed him glance at me, then look away. Silence welled between us, different from before, almost companionable; at least on my part.
In the end Jack released my hand, rummaged in his rucksack and handed me a bottle of water. I held it to my chest, enjoying the sudden chill, but didn’t drink immediately;the view slaked a thirst I didn’t know I had.
‘Derwentwater on the left, Bassenthwaite Lake on the right.’ His voice, too close. ‘Keswick in the middle, a tourist trap all year round. Whereas up here …’
In one sweeping gesture his arm embraced the summit, marking the contrast. I could see no more than a scattering of people, including Bill and Midge some distance away, with their backsto us. Their joined hands spoke of being there for each other, year after year – unlike Jack’s and mine.
But I miss his touch, however fake.
A deep breath to steady my thoughts. I let my eyes feast on the hills, huge crested grey-brown waves rolling to meet the blue-domed sky. The last time I’d seen nature at its most majestic with a man at my side was California; and majesty had soonturned to misery … I gave the bottle cap a frantic twist and took a long gulp of water.
Beside me, Jack was unpacking a couple of sandwiches. When he offered me one, I took it, surprised that I could be hungry so soon after breakfast. As we ate, his hand came to rest on my shoulder, too firm to shrug off.
When we’d finished, he said, ‘Let me introduce you to some of the northern fells.’His voice softened with pride. ‘If you look straight up from that furthermost island on Derwentwater,’ – he stooped until his head was level with mine; and pointed, so that there was no mistaking – ‘you’ll see Maiden Moor and Dale Head, then Hindscarth and Pillar. And in front, the one like a cat crouching – that’s Catbells. Beyond it is the Newlands Valley, home of Mrs Tiggy-Winkle.’
Hislast words were so incongruous that I burst out laughing.
‘So my mother always told me.’ He grinned, and gave my shoulder an affectionate squeeze – for Bill and Midge’s benefit, of course.
‘That was one of my favourite books.’ I let slip a nostalgic sigh. ‘I used to walk round the garden pretending to be Lucie with my pocket handkin.’
‘You’re a Beatrix Potter fan, but you’venever visited the Lakes before?’
His astonishment put me instantly on the defensive. ‘I grew up on the south coast, and my parents wanted to spend as little of their leisure time as possible in the car. Our UK holidays tended to be in the New Forest, or Devon and Cornwall.’
‘I suppose I should be grateful that most southerners do the same, otherwise the Lakes would be even busier.’He paused to scan the land around us. ‘The best of my childhood was spent here. My parents used to bring us every year, until I was thirteen or fourteen.’
‘Us’ implied he had a sibling; brother or sister, one or more? Not that I needed to know anything about his family, or his childhood, unless it was relevant to his work. But, just when I was about to ask, his hand slid effortlessly frommy shoulder to my hip, and under my T-shirt.
‘Getoff!’ I said, through gritted teeth.
The hand didn’t move. ‘I’m just behaving in character. You could at least pretend to respond, like you did last night in the garden.’
‘I did no such thing! I just—’
‘Come on, Alicia, don’t you remember what it’s like?’
‘What what’s like?’
‘To be at this stage of a relationship.’Somehow I was in his arms, hands flat against his chest but making no attempt to push him away. My eyes locked unwillingly with his; blue depths, green flecks – a natural harmony with the scene below. He went on, his voice low and compelling, ‘You want to touch each other all the time and you can’t help showing it … Each touch builds a memory, each memory builds a need … And when you’re standinghere, in one of the most perfect places on earth, on a perfect day – doesn’t it remind you of our other perfect moments? Such as this morning, when we made love – because we would have done, if this was real play not role play … And we link the moments, and the memories, like this.’
His fingertips feathered the skin at the small of my back. Traitorous skin, trembling as if in recollectionof an earlier, more intimate touch. Traitorous hands, stealing round his neck, bringing his mouth close enough to—
I pulled away just in time, and stumbled out of his reach. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘It looked a pretty good performance from where I was standing.’ His tone was flat, the words matter-of-fact, the spell broken.
‘But an unnecessary one. I don’t do public displays of affection,I’m not that type. And another thing, I need to start a discussion with Bill soon – otherwise I’m just wasting my time this weekend.’
‘Thanks.’ He turned his back on me, picked up the rucksack.
‘I meant professionally speaking.’
‘I’m sure you did.’ The rucksack swung heavily onto his shoulders. ‘Trust me, you’ll need all your concentration for climbing Skiddaw. Leave Bill untiltonight, or tomorrow.’
I stared unseeingly in the direction of the hill shaped like a crouching cat. Didn’t he realise that my job was the only reason I was here? Otherwise I’d be safe at home, enjoying my own space and my own life—
‘Are you ready to go on, Alicia?’ Midge’s voice behind me, edged with concern.
I fixed a bright smile in place and spun around. ‘Of course.’
Little did she know that her question was open to an entirely different interpretation.
