‘I’m sure. This will do me good. And it’s a hell of a lot better than The Grove was...’
‘That is true. Well, let me know if you need anything, OK? I’m always at the other end of the phone.’
‘I know. You ring me often enough that it’s not something I could easily forget.’
Taylor embraced her brother in a tight hug, and whispered in his ear, ‘I love you and I am so proud of you, Dyl.’
‘Thanks, Taylor.’
They both pulled back and tried to pretend their eyes weren’t watering slightly.
‘Well, I’d best be off. I have a fun day of planning tomorrow, and I can’t keep Mr Ben and his friend Jerry waiting!’
Taylor slipped out of the front door, superstitiously crossing her fingers as she stepped over the threshold. This had to go well for him. It had to.
The drive back to her house took around fifteen minutes. The roads were fairly quiet at that time on a Saturday evening. She only passed a few groups of drunk students, most of them already inside the various clubs and bars hosting freshers' events in preparation for the start of term. She wondered what kind of students she would get this year. She’d been lucky so far and not had any major problems with any of her undergraduates. She’d heard of other faculty members having to report students for lack of attendance or turning up to class inebriated, and even less-than-gently suggest a student left the course before they were failed.
Typically, it started raining just as Taylor pulled into her street. She lived in an average-sized terraced house close enough to the university to give her a very short commute, but far enough away that she wasn’t surrounded by students. Most of the people living on the street also rented, but there were several families that she recognised by face, even if she didn’t know their names. She always waved to the children when they passed her window.
She hadn’t spent a fortune on furnishing her house. Going back to university to teach and do a PhD had been quite a step down salary-wise so she had carefully saved as much as she could from her last few pay cheques, and wasn’t about to blow it all on furniture. Her previous accommodation had come fully furnished, so she owned very little herself. It had made her multiple moves over the last few years easier, but it also meant that the various flats and houses she lived in never really felt like home, just somewhere she was passing through. Maybe this time would be different, especially now Dylan was here too. Maybe.
CHAPTER THREE
Climbing the Walls
‘Pleeeeeeeeeease!’ Dylan pleaded over the phone, making his voice extra whiny just for the benefit of his sister.
‘I told you, I have lesson planning to do today,’ Taylor said as she ruffled through some of the papers spread all over her desk. Truthfully, she was quite well prepared for this coming term, but she wanted to get a few extra planning hours in. She hoped that if she was extra prepared, it might allow her more time to work on her actual research.
‘I know, but I’m climbing the walls here. Haha, geddit? Climbing the walls?’
‘Oh, very funny. If this whole journalism thing doesn't work out for you, you could go on the road with your one-man show.’
‘It’s Sunday, the buses are awful on Sundays. It’d do you good to get out the house too. It’d be just like when we were kids, going to the centre and scaring Mum and Dad half to death with how high the climbing walls were.’
Taylor didn’t say anything, but Dylan must have known he was wearing her down. Some of their favourite childhood memories were of their time spent at the local climbing centre. They would race each other up difficult routes, seemingly barely touching the holds. Or they’d dangle precariously from overhangs before nailing some difficult move or falling several metres before the rope caught them, the other twin on the other end of the belay, laughing.
‘Fine.’ Taylor conceded. ‘But you’re going to have to work out the bus schedule eventually, I can’t do this every week. I’ll pick you up around one?’ She pulled the phone away from her ear as her brother shouted down the line at her with glee, before hanging up, shaking her head. It was years since she had been climbing. She wasn’t even sure where her gear was - probably in one of the many still-packed boxes in the spare room. ‘Maybe it’s a good thing Dyl didn’t move in,’ she thought as she waded through the cardboard mountains trying to find the one containing her sports equipment. ‘Sorting through this lot would’ve taken ages.’
Taylor manoeuvred herself around a particularly precarious tower, catching sight of the one she was searching for. Grabbing her keys out of her pocket, she used her parents’ house key to slice through the packing tape on the box. The layer of dust that had formed on the top of it made her cough as she pulled it open. A photo of her and her brother was lying on the top, both with winner’s medals around their necks. They had won their county’s under-sixteen categories in indoor climbing that year. Their happy faces beamed out of the picture. She could still feel her brother grabbing her hand and thrusting it into the air as they posed for the picture their parents insisted on taking. Taylor smiled as she put the picture aside, only to find the medals underneath. Dylan hadn’t taken his with him when he moved out of their parents’ house, and Taylor had grabbed it when it was at risk of being thrown out in the process of her parents having a clear out. She picked up the medals and gently ran her finger over the engravings. The smell of chalk and sweat filled her mind as she put the medals aside with the picture. Her old harness stared up at her from the box. Her half open chalk bag had coated it with a fine layer of white powder, as if it was a cake that had been recently decorated. She checked her watch; she had a couple of hours before she needed to pick Dylan up. Grabbing the rest of her climbing gear she left the room, leaving the medals and photograph out to bathe in the sunlight they hadn’t seen for many years.
Taylor dropped her gear off by the front door and returned to the living room. Her old laptop was complaining loudly under the pressure of having multiple programs open. She tucked her feet under her and picked up her coffee mug, sipping the now tepid liquid. Staring at the computer screen all morning hadn’t helped her come up with a solution for her scheduling dilemma. Her contract only required her to teach for eight hours a week, which on paper left plenty of time for research. But the preparatory work needed for those teaching hours easily took the same amount of time again. She closed the laptop in resignation. The living room, which was sparsely furnished, could have done with a good clean, and there was a sink full of dishes in the kitchen begging to be washed. Taylor sighed and reached for a nearby blanket, pulling it all the way up to her chin and tucking her legs up in front of her. She leant back and closed her eyes, thinking about her life before she came back to university. Out in industry she could get her hands dirty. While the work was exhausting, there was a sense of satisfaction in coming home covered in grease, aching from head to toe, knowing that you had created something from nothing.
The loud ring of her phone woke her up with a start. Bleary-eyed, Taylor picked it up and fumbled for the answer button.
‘Hello?’ she said, mildly confused.
‘I thought you were picking me up at one?’ came Dylan’s voice, patient as ever.
‘Damn it! Sorry, Dyl, I’ll be there in five,’ Taylor said, scrambling to her feet and nearly tripping over the blanket that was now coiled around her ankles. She ran up the stairs two at a time and quickly changed into a loose-fitting T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, before bolting back down the stairs, grabbing her harness and climbing shoes on the way out.
To say the climbing centre was vast would be an understatement, thought Taylor. The cavernous room was filled with colour, like a toddler had been let loose in an art shop. Each wall was decorated in a different theme, like volcanoes or lightning, with different climbing features to negotiate. The main sources of light were fluorescent strip lights that ran around the ceiling like train tracks, intersected by the high rope course walkways. In one corner there was a bouldering area; the walls there
were much lower, only about four metres high, and surrounded by crash mats. When the twins walked in their eyes were immediately drawn upwards to the massive triple overhang which faced the entrance to the climbing room. There were no ropes on it currently; the only way to climb it would be a lead climb. There was a young girl and her dad at the bottom of this wall now, the dad double checking the daughter’s harness before letting her set off. The girl climbed slowly and methodically, each re-positioning of a hand or foot well thought out and cleanly executed. She ensured she had a solid grip on the wall before reaching down for her rope and clipping it in to the evenly spaced carabiners.
On a wall to their right the twins could see a teenage boy utilising the auto-belay, scampering up the wall hastily and falling off with even more speed, laughing all the way down, knowing the auto-belay would guide him gently to the floor. In the back right corner there was a group of people who seemed to be climbing together. The people on belay were chatting amongst themselves while carefully watching their charges ascend the wall.
Much to Taylor’s surprise, a well-bandaged arm on a belay stood out; it was the woman from the cafe. Her hair was tied back in a small bun, her vest top revealing that Taylor had been right about there being more bruises. You could see the purple marks on her shoulder, collar bone, and the top of her arm. She was wearing leggings which perfectly outlined the shape of her legs.
‘...Earth to Taylor...’ Dylan said, tapping Taylor on the arm, snapping her out of her reverie.
‘Sorry, what?’
‘I was saying, shall we go introduce ourselves?’
Taylor swallowed hard, her throat suddenly and inexplicably dry.
‘Sure. You go first?’ she said, half offering and half pleading.
‘It’s not like you to be shy, Lor?’ Dylan said questioningly as he looked over at his sister, who looked slightly flushed.
‘I know, but this is going to be your club, not mine. I’m just here playing taxi.’ Just then the secret agent glanced over at them and smiled, before focusing back on her climber.
‘Uh huh’ Dylan said knowingly under his breath. They made their way over to the group, Taylor walking half a step behind her brother. They waited patiently, watching the climbers already on the wall.
‘Good job, Danny!’ the secret agent said as her climber topped out. ‘Ready when you are,’ she informed him, at which point he started bouncing down the wall.
‘Now that Danny’s done showing off... Hi, my name’s Paige. Are you new to the club?’
‘Yeah, I’ve just moved to the area and my sister hasn’t climbed in a while. I’m Dylan Watkins, this is Taylor, my sister.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Paige said, offering her hand in a rather formal manner. Dylan shook it clumsily, whereas Taylor took her hand gently, as if she expected an electric shock.
‘Have we met before?’ Paige asked, staring slightly.
‘You were in the coffee shop yesterday. I wouldn’t normally have remembered but you kind of stood out...’
‘Ah, yeah. This would be my excuse for not climbing today. Still a bit sore. If you haven’t climbed in a while, maybe I can give you a refresher?’
‘Oh no, it’s OK, I’m only here to belay Dylan really, I don’t have much time to climb nowadays.’
‘OK,’ Paige shrugged. ‘Dylan, do you need a refresher?’ she asked innocently. Dylan stared a couple of seconds too long at his sister, before turning his attention to Paige.
‘No, I’m OK, thanks, I climbed quite regularly back home.’
‘OK then, I’ll let you two get on with it. I’m sure the rest of the guys will introduce themselves when they get a chance,’ Paige said, before turning back to the wall where a different climber had tied into her belay. She checked his knot before allowing him to set off.
Taylor and Dylan made their way to a free wall near the group. Dylan introduced himself to one of the other people belaying while setting up his own, giving Taylor little choice about whether she was going to climb today or not. She dipped her hands into her chalk bag and coated her palms with the white powder; they were sweating more than one would expect in the vast chilly space. As a result, she chose one of the easier routes on the wall, dragging Dylan’s attention away from the pretty redhead he had been talking to.
‘If you could concentrate long enough not to kill me, I’d appreciate it...’ Taylor said to him before setting off. The holds were rough against her hands. The calluses she’d formed climbing as a teenager were long gone, and her grip was nowhere near as strong as she remembered. But a few metres off the ground she remembered why she used to love climbing so much. It was just her against the wall. She became hyper-aware of her own body and its location relative to the holds around her. Looking up she planned her route and pushed on, feeling a little bit more confident with every move. It wasn’t long before she was approaching the top. She could no longer hear the people below her or anyone else in the room. The feeling of getting both hands on the topmost hold of a climbing wall for the first time in years was all-consuming.
Quietly triumphant, she shouted down to Dylan. ‘Ready?’ she said, looking down over her shoulder at her brother, who had the biggest grin on his face.
‘Ready!’ he hollered back. Taylor slowly walked herself down the wall, her face aching slightly from beaming.
‘That was great!’ she said to Dylan as she reached the bottom.
‘See? I told you you’d enjoy it.’ He said, giving her a one-armed hug and making her tumble slightly; he hadn’t given her quite enough slack for her to take her own weight fully, so the small contact was enough to make her spin on the rope. ‘Oops! Sorry!’ he said, letting out more slack and helping Taylor regain her balance. Taylor had only just managed to untie herself when Dylan snatched the rope out of her hand and began tying in, throwing the belay device vaguely in her direction.
‘My turn!’ he exclaimed eagerly.
Taylor had just finished clipping in when a pair of hands came out of nowhere to check her harness.
‘What the -’ Taylor exclaimed, registering the bandaged arm and the dark hazel eyes within a millisecond of each other.
‘You said you were out of practice,’ Paige said, without further explanation or apology. Taylor just stared. ‘You’re good to go.’
Dylan smirked as he looked quickly between Paige and his sister. She just glared at him. He quickly busied himself by starting his ascent of the wall. It took all of Taylor’s willpower to keep her eyes on her brother, and not glance at the woman who was standing that bit too close behind her. Thankfully, Dylan provided a welcome distraction. He had of course chosen the most difficult route on the wall and kept attempting quite difficult dynamic moves, often only just making them. Each time he leapt or threw himself at the next hold, Taylor braced, ready to catch him if he fell.
‘He is quite... fearless, isn’t he?’ Paige said, her words spoken almost directly into Taylor’s ear. Taylor shivered slightly.
‘Yes, well, Dylan isn’t one to do things half-heartedly,’ Taylor laughed awkwardly, just as Dylan topped out on the route. She still wasn’t used to women swooning over her brother.
‘Woo-hoo!’ he shouted, bouncing sideways off the wall with his arms outstretched above his head, legs kicking back and forth. He ended up bouncing off the holds and features on the way down, but he didn’t seem to care.
‘Muppet,’ Taylor grumbled as Dylan landed on the floor on his backside, still celebrating.
Paige had slipped away unnoticed, and was tying back in to a different wall to belay someone else. Taylor couldn’t help staring, as she had been unable to get any kind of read on her. Dylan followed her gaze, rolled his eyes, and walked towards Paige, whispering as he passed his sister.
‘Well, if you’re not going to talk to her...’
‘No, don’t!’ Taylor said, trying to grab him. But he twisted out of her reach with a cheeky grin. There was nothing she could do as she watched her brother waltz over to the mysterious woman.
‘Hey, Paige. As I’m new to the area, I was wondering if you’d be willing to show me around?’ he said sweetly.
‘Why? Don’t you have maps on your phone?’ she asked, deadpan.
‘Ha, yeah, I do,’ he acknowledged, scratching the back of his head ‘but it’s not quite the same as local knowledge, is it?’ he said. ‘I mean, my sister has lived here for a while but I’m sure you could show us –’
‘Sorry, I’m rather busy at the moment’ Paige answered, not really paying attention. She turned her back towards him to focus on her climber, making it clear that the conversation was over. Dylan walked slowly back towards Taylor.
‘Well, I tried,’ he shrugged.
‘Tried to scare her off, you mean? You appear to have succeeded.’
‘Well, maybe you should try talking to hot women rather than relying on your brother to be your wingman?’
‘I didn’t ask –’
‘I know I know, but you haven’t even been on a date since you and she-who-must-not-be-named broke up’
‘Yeah? Well, I’ve had other priorities,’ Taylor said pointedly. Dylan flushed red and looked sheepish. ‘Let’s just climb.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Paige's City Tours
PAIGE
A few weeks later university life was in full swing. The previously quiet corridors were filled with chatting students and slowly fraying faculty. Paige stood at the front of the lecture hall and over a hundred faces stared back at her; a sea with eyes. That morning’s text conversation with Maya was still playing on her mind. Maya had nagged her once more about trying to make more friends, reminding her yet again that she was moving away soon. As if Paige needed reminding. The debate had continued when Maya asked about Paige’s weekend plans, and Paige had said running and reading, the same as usual. She could almost sense Maya pulling her hair out on the other end of the line.
The Face of It Page 3