Page 31 of One Summer Weekend
He blinked, as if the taunt had struck home; but he didn’t say a word. It was I who broke off the eye contact – jumping to my feet, scooping up the empty water bottles and kneeling down to stuff them into the nearest rucksack; any excuse to put some distance between us.
‘Here, let me give you a hand.’ Midge knelt beside me, and I forced myself to match her methodical movements. When theremnants of our picnic were neatly stowed in the rucksacks, she said, ‘And how have you found your first Lakeland outing?’
Hardly a difficult question; but I took my time to formulate the right answer, leaning back on my heels, letting my gaze drift to Jack. He was now standing several yards away with Bill, dark head bent over the map. ‘You know, it’s had a totally unexpected effect on me.A sort of therapy … giving me a sense of perspective about the past, and the present.’
‘And the future?’
I looked at her, trying to fathom out her agenda. ‘That’s not entirely within my control.’
‘Not entirely, but a lot will depend on what you want and how much you want it.’
She’d shifted the conversation beyond my comfort zone; I made a last attempt to recover it. ‘Believeme, I’m well acquainted with the process of goal setting.’
‘Your head might be acquainted with it, Alicia, but what about your heart?’ she said, a sudden smile softening her words. Before I could reply, she stood up and called the men over to start the descent.
And then, to make matters worse, she kept Bill back – supposedly to help her remove a pebble from her shoe – which left mewith Jack, and a strained silence.
When he strode on ahead, I thought he was just being rude. As I marched angrily in his wake, however, he turned and held out his hand. ‘Best if I go first down this bit,’ he said quietly, not even looking at me. I brushed his hand aside, lost my balance, skidded on the dry stony earth – and clutched at him to break my fall.
Was it the eagerness ofhis arms, or my half-hysterical giggle, or a potent combination of both? Whatever the catalyst, we clung to each other – andlaughed. Body-shaking, glad-to-be-alive laughter that I didn’t want to end. Or maybe I didn’t want any of it to end.
A brisk ‘Excuse me’ brought us to our senses, and we stepped aside to let an elderly couple go past. But as soon as they’d gone his hand found mine,and held it tight.
‘I suppose I ought to thank you for saving my life,’ I said, still breathless.
He looked down at me, shaking his head in mock bewilderment. ‘Oh Alicia, what am I going to do with you? You’d rather throw yourself down Skidder than put your trust in me.’
‘Point taken.’ I tried a lungful of air, and grimaced. ‘Ouch! Even though I didn’t fall, you’ll be glad toknow I’m aching all over.’
A suggestive grin. ‘Anything I can rub better?’
Several images came to mind, all of them compromising for an executive coach and her client. I fixed my gaze on the scuffed toes of my trainers. ‘It’s just – well, it’s been a long time since I laughed like that, and my ribs hurt. I must be out of practice.’
‘Me too,’ he said. ‘But it felt good, didn’tit? Maybe it was an outlet,’ he added in an undertone. ‘After all, we were asking each other some difficult questions earlier.’
I jerked my head up in alarm. ‘Jack, I’m meant to be doing the deep dive on you – not the other way round.’
‘I know, and you’ll get your answers. But there’s a time and a place – and it’s not here.’ He let go of me to nudge his rucksack into a more comfortableposition, then took my hand again. ‘Come on, before Midge and Bill catch us up.’
So we walked, side by side whenever the path allowed; and we talked, sticking to safer ground – art, music and Italy. Only once did I make any reference to our role play, when I asked him if he thought we’d convinced Midge yet.
‘That we’re a couple, or that we’ve made up?’ he said, raising his eyebrows.
‘Both.’
‘Probably. For a start, she’s not bending my ear like she did on the way up.’
‘Oh?’ I prompted, as if I hadn’t noticed.
‘Let’s just say she’s on your side. She and Bill have really taken to you.’ He gave a loud sigh.
‘You sound surprised.’
A sidelong glance, his amusement obvious. ‘Not so much surprised as disappointed. No, make that scared stiff – justimagine all the grief I’ll get from her if we break up.’
It was more a case of ‘when’ than ‘if’, but I didn’t bother to correct him. Instead, I steered the conversation to safer ground again.
We reached the cottage well before Midge and Bill; but, since Jack had the spare key, we could at least use the shower. I suggested he went first, while I stayed in the motorhome. I wanted towrite up the notes from my interview with Bill and outline the next phase of questioning. Since I felt more like curling up and going to sleep, this proved to be quite a challenge; so much for the stamina of a gym slave.
