by Lynne Chitty
“Yes” she said in a weak voice “I’m sure.”
There was little more the two police oficers could do. They thanked her for her time, apologised again for disturbing her and left.
Marcus showed them out and then came up to her room with a mug of tea and the paper which she noticed was yesterdays.
“I don’t why they thought it was me” he said. “Thanks for putting them right. Drink your tea while it’s hot and I’ll see you later.” He closed the door which she wished he wouldn’t do and ten minutes later he was gone. Leaving Edith to the silence which that morning sounded thunderous.
You might have sent him back to prison she said to no one. He would get out again though wouldn’t he. Wouldn’t he. If I was still alive them what do you think he would have done to me Eh Eh?
Afraid of him? Of course she was bloodywell afraid of him. She was the one in prison. Couldn’t they see that? She was the one confined behind the bars of disability, guilt and fear. Why couldn’t she just die and be done with it. He would offend again. The police would come back. It was an endless nightmare. As long as Marcus lived and breathed she would never have a moment when she wasn’t on edge. Eliza was best out of it. The thought of her daughter brought the tears she had been holding back all morning. Cold tea and yesterdays news sat on the bed side cabinet looking dispassionately on.
THIRTEEN
ELIZA
“Go on Pete. Go on you can do it. Keep going. Not far now. YEESSSS!!”. Eliza’s sense of joy and pride as a grey haired man she barely knew crossed the line knew no bounds and when he made his way over to the group with his medal around his neck clutching his goody bag she couldn’t help but give him a hug just as the others did. His blue top and white shorts were dripping with sweat and he looked as if he might collapse any minute. The give away though was a gleam in his eye and she knew she was looking at a happy man. They would have to wait for their official times but he had stopped his watch at 2 hours 27 minutes and fourteen seconds. Forty three seconds faster than last year. Thomas had run one hour forty one and Libby was their only runner left to complete.
Eliza couldn’t believe how fast the time had gone. She had barely read a chapter when crowds started gathering at the finish line and she had watched the first and fastest runners sprint in as if they had merely done a jog around the block. As the time went on, the runners looked more and more weary though most managed to bravely put on a final sprint. Libby in her pink top and pink leggings did her best too to increase speed at the end but the effort had taken its toll. Bloody hills she said with what little breath she had left. She said it smiling though she had finished in two hours fifty nine minutes and fifty three seconds. Breaking three hours was a thrilling achievement and everyone high fived her. She was as much a hero as the first runner across the line in a stunning one hour and thirty two minutes. Libby was by no means the last runner home and it was a proud bunch who went into Portree itself for a celebratory meal at a quirky little place called Cafe Arriba. It was only a two minute walk from the main square where Pete had parked the mini bus and had super views across the quay. It was painted in the brightest colours imaginable and nothing matched. The food though was delicious and as Eliza looked around the table at her eleven companions, different as they all were, in that moment they belonged together. Tomorrow they would go their separate ways. Mike and Angie would collect their two boys from Angies sister. Sal and Iain would call in on his mother in Inverness before travelling back to Glasgow. Twelve people with twelve different lives. Some interwined. Some individual and only briefly connected by the Half Marathon. She had hardly spoken two words to most of them but somehow she cared about them. More to the point and it was a shock to realise it, she would miss the safety they gave her. After all the worries. All the fearing she wouldn’t cope had disappeared like the morning mist over the mountains. They had made her stronger. At least she thought they had.The sense of dread at having to leave and return to Gloucester on Monday still hung heavy. She wouldn’t think about that now. No she would enjoy the moment. She caught Pete’s eye. What a dear man he was. A man she would truly like to be able to call friend.
MARCUS
Marcus had got his beloved bike out. One of the first things he had done when he got home was to check in the garage to make sure no one had nicked it. He had given it a polish, emptied the helmet of dead spiders and dust and set out for Weston Super Mere. He fancied fish and chips on the pier and he had never lost his love of amusement arcades. It would do him good. With hindsight he had been crazy to set fire to the pub. If he let pricks like Billy, the landlord wind him up he would end up back inside in no time. They just weren’t worth it. He knew his mother would always vouch for him even if she didn’t know what day it was half the time. He would need to use his brain though and think things through more. He had some notes in his bag from the anger management course he’d done in prison. Maybe he would take a look when he got back. Musn’t throw it all away for some worthless piece of shit .
He would be starting work on Mrs Wilkinsons house on Monday so Marcus the charmer would need to be in residence. It wasn’t all an act though. He did like make people feeling good about theselves. At his best he knew he did notice things and picked up how people were feeling. He could actually be quite sensitive. Though nobody would believe it, deep inside there was another Marcus he could have been. Too late now. A memory of one winter came back to him. It had been brutal and Mrs Hibbs from three doors down had fallen and broken her hip. Without being asked, he had taken on the responsibility of walking her corgi, Beau. He was all of about eight and refused to take any money. His father had been furious and said he could have made a packet but Marcus had felt good about helping her.
Out of the way you Tosser he snarled as a young lad ran out in front of him as he came up to a crossing.
It was definitely too late now.
EDITH
Edith heard the bike start up. She had thought about selling it in spite. Would have served him right. It would have really hurt him to come home and find it gone and some days she so desperately wanted to hurt him like he had hurt her and Eliza. In the end though she had been afraid. The same recurring theme of fear fear fear. That bike, a 1980 Harley Davidson Chopper had been Richards pride and joy. Goodness knows how he had afforded it as apparently they didn’t come cheap. He probably swindled it out of some poor soul she thought. Still if Marcus had gone out on it he wouldn’t be home any time soon. She relaxed a bit and managed to get herself into the chair. She would finish the Sally Vickers book and see what Miss Garnet got up to. She had a feeling it would end in sadness. Though maybe death wasn’t always sad. Maybe it could come as a friend. Some days she longed for it to call on her and guide her gently to a place where her mind never struggled to remember things. Where her body never ached and where she wasn’t filled with a despairing exhaustion that made her feel a hundred years old. Did she want to actually die though? She didn’t know. She just wanted to be at peace that was all. It wasn’t too much to ask was it? The carer came late on a Saturday which she didn’t mind. It was Saturday wasn’t it? The mist of uncertainty slowly descended again and she hung on to the book as though for dear life. Venice, angels, Tobit, Miss Garnet was lucky, even if she did die at the end of the novel. Or maybe especially if she did.
FOURTEEN
ELIZA
“Is it my imagination Pete or are you limping?”
Pete smiled ruefully.
“Blisters! My own fault. I ran in a new pair of socks. Thought they looked the same as my usual ones but the material was slightly thicker. Hence the hobble! Never mind”
“I’m just in awe of you, war wounds and all” Eliza blurted out. “There was such a chilly wind and the route was hard and well you were all amazing.”
They had arrived for breakfast at the restaurant at the same time and their conversation led them naturally to head to the same table. Eliza didn’t even think about it until they were seated.
“
In your honour I won’t have porridge” Pete said and ordered the full works, egg, bacon, the lot. Eliza too ordered an egg and mushrooms. Which after four years of anorexia was a bigger step than Pete could know. She still feared food and was even now only beginning to rediscover what proper eating was. Portion sizes worried her and a plate full of food could still send her into a panic. This morning though, her appetite, like her confidence was in good shape.
“I’m off this afternoon” Pete said as they finished their coffees. They had chatted easily over their meal and as she had told him she was going tomorrow a huge lump formed in her throat.
Pete either didn’t notice or was too polite to stare but he went quiet for a moment. Then said “ I don’t know if you would be interested but Libby, Thomas and I are going to sign up to run the Edinburgh Marathon next year. It’s the last weekend of May. It’s a bank holiday actually. We are going to stay at a retreat house for a few days, explore the city a bit after the race and then make our way up to Skye where the others will join us as usual.
It’s a way off so you’ve got plenty of time to save and plan for the trip.”
Eliza winced.“Sorry that was clumsy. What I meant was that for many a visit to Skye is a one off trip of a lifetime. The answer to a call almost. The mountains are evangelists drawing folks to themselves and showing them the vastness that even they are lost in. Coming to Skye isn’t cheap I know and the trip next year will be nearly two and a half weeks long It’s hard to get that much time off work, Anyway to cut this rather longwinded rambling story short. I would need to know by the beginning of July so that I can book everywhere but wouldn’t need any money until November time. The balance would be payable next April. I don’t know your circumstances but didn’t want to take it for granted you could afford it. Money’s tight these days for a lot of people and it would be a fair amount.
“It’s alright for me now I’m retired and my time is my own. I’m fortunate too to have a decent pension and have picked up the Scottish habit of looking after my pennies!”
Eliza was quiet. Trying to hold all the thoughts in her head.
“It would be lovely if you could join us” Pete said almost wistfully. “We have all so enjoyed your company. Even if you can’t make Edinburgh, same place same time next year is our parting quip to each other and we would be glad to see you again. It’s not the most original farewell but it is heartfelt.” Emotions were surging through Eliza overwhelmed by the thought that they would include her. Pete smiled. “Sorry, I’m waffling put it down to post race blues.”
Finally Eliza found her voice.
“I don’t really know what my plans are for next year. I can’t usually think more than a few days ahead. It was really out of character for me to book this trip. You were right about it being a kind of pilgrimage though. The thing is and she had to stop for a moment as she couldn’t talk without her voice trembling. The thing is I don’t want to leave. I feel as if I will be leaving part of me behind. The part that is alive. The part that is really me. I can’t explain it and you will probably think me mad. Actually I probably am mad, but I know the landscape understands me. The mountains, the water, the birds, they know. They are so much bigger than fear and anxiety and even life itself. They just are. She blushed. It’s like heaven here. Even the barrenness is beautiful. It’s brutal as well. I feel that. It’s harsh and winters must be as desperate as anything. Somehow though in spite of everything. In spite of all the strength the island needs to survive everything the weather can throw at it. It still has enough strength left to share. The sun, the rain, the mist even they,” she paused, “even they share their glimpses of eternity with us. I just don’t know how I am going to manage without them. It is simply the most inspiring place on earth.” She stopped suddenly aware of how much she had said.
Pete handed her a card with his email address and mobile number on.
Eliza took it and hung her head.
“The thing is I would love to come back year. I would love to run the race with you all.”
Pete smiled and raised his hand and high fived her “YES !”
“I thought you would laugh”
“Why would I do that ?
“You saw for yourself all the different runners there yesterday. There were some athletes of course there were. There were a lot of runners though for whom running is a healing process. A challenge. A way of reminding themselves that they are still alive and still capable of achieving something amazing. There were some brave brave people on that starting line yesterday. People who have overcome incredible setbacks and tragedies. You would be in very special company and well I have a sneaking suspicion that if you set your mind to it you could do anything. If you go on line there is a training programme called ‘From couch to 5k’ that gets your body used to running. Lots of walking to start with. There is bound to be a Park run near you. Thats a weekly timed 5k run. They’re completely free and you will see people of all ages from 6 year olds to ninety year olds walking and running on their own and together. You can build up from there, then try a 10k before you tackle a half marathon.
You can always send me an email if you want any encouragement or advice. I’m no expert but I started from scratch too. Next year they are changing the route and we will be running the course in reverse. So it is a steep climb first and then downhill all the way he laughed. You are slight and have the perfect build. Go for it girl!”
It had been a long time since Eliza had been called a girl but Pete’s enthusiasm wrapped itself around her fledgling hopes and for a moment she felt invincible.
The restaurant was filling up and gradually the runners and their partners all appeared. Most like Pete were leaving that day. Only Thomas and Angie were staying the extra night.
“More coffee?”
The young waitress asked and filled their cups before they had time to reply. Eliza reached for another slice of toast and Pete suddenly said
“I started running when my wife died.”
“Oh Pete I’m sorry” Eliza said and meant it.
“No it’s Ok. It was a long time ago. Nearly twenty years. I miss her though. As much now as in the early days. It’s just not as raw now. I’ve grown used to it I suppose. If you ever can.
Week days weren’t too bad. Though coming home to an empty house was bleak. It was the weekends that I grew to dread. I tried pottering in the garden, but my heart wasn’t in it. That was Barbs domain. She loved her garden and kept it so beautifully. She would have torn me off a strip for letting it go downhill. I just couldn’t summon the energy.
We couldn’t have children. So there wasn’t really anyone else who needed me once she had gone. It was my fault the children bit. Firing blanks the comedians call it don’t they? Only it wasn’t funny. I know it hurt Barb not to be a mother but she never blamed me not even when we rowed. We thought about adopting and although we felt selfish we never did get round to filling in the forms. Truth was we were happy together just the two of us and the years went by and we stopped talking about it.”
“What happened?” Eliza asked when Pete went quiet
“She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer three days after her fiftieth birthday and she didn’t see fifty one. It was tough at the end and she suffered more than she ever let on I know she did. She was brave. Really brave and that as much as anything broke me.”
Eliza found herself welling up at the thought of this gentle man going through so much.
“We honeymooned on Skye”
“Oh I’m sorry” Eliza butted in. “There was me talking about the island as if it was mine.”
“You do apologise a lot Eliza. Do you know that?”
He sounded half joking, half serious.
Eliza blushed “I won’t say I’m sorry but yes I suppose I do. It has become a habit I expect.”
“That’s the magic of Skye ” He gazed beyond Eliza and out of the window. “It makes everyone believe it belongs to them and them alone. The mountains draw you in as though you
were the first. The waters whisper only your name. They bewitch you but they never deceive. They draw out the depths of your soul and surprise you with marvellous light and possibility where you expect to see failure and darkness.
Those ten days were the happiest of my life. We were in love with one another and we were in love with this place. We walked and sat and watched and listened and laughed. The world belonged to us and to us alone! He smiled as though transported back to that time.
We had hoped to come back before Barb got too ill. There was never a right time though. Hospital appointments and treatments just took over. We seemed to spend our lives waiting. Waiting for appointments. Waiting for results. Then it was too late. She was too weak to travel. She died in the June. Was her anniversary last Wednesday actually.
Anyway while I was out in the garden each sunday trying to will myself to live. I noticed a couple of guys running past about the same time each week. In my arrogance I thought I looked younger and fitter than them so if they could do it so could I. Nearly killed me at first. Gradually though I got fitter and fitter and could run further and further. Then I started entering races. I can still remember the pride I felt when I got my first medal for completing a 10k It wasn’t until I got home that it really hit me that I was alone. That Barb was gone really gone and I would never hear her voice again. That was the first time I cried. I thought I would never be able to stop. I hung the medal around our wedding photograph which probably seems a bit of a sad thing to do. It is still my favourite of all my medals though, followed closely by my one for my first Skye half marathon. A lot of runners mock the medals and goodie bags. They shouldn’t though. They might just be bits of metal but they carry whole lives within them.