Lungs bursting, she clattered down the gangplank onto a long, wooden boat where calm, relaxed people populated the decks, holding aloft flutes of fizz in the summer evening sunshine. She thrust her ticket at a man in a bow tie, while another man handed her one of the flutes. As she took it, she saw one of the crew untie the ropes – that was close.
Abby climbed the steps onto the upper deck, looking for her sister and the boyfriends, wiping the film of sweat from her brow as she did so. She noticed Ellie first – or rather her hair, its golden strands catching in the sun. Her sister was talking animatedly to Abby’s boyfriend, Jon, and beside him, another man whom Abby took to be Rory.
Abby took a deep breath and automatically fluffed her flat brown hair out. She raised a hand and caught Jon’s eye, and he broke away and came to greet her. His linen shirt and shorts and his feet clad in deck shoes made Abby suddenly feel hot and overdressed in her grey work suit. He leaned in to kiss her and she clamped her arms by her side as she caught the whiff of something unpleasant from her armpits.
‘Hard day?’ asked Jon.
‘Didn’t think I was going to make it,’ said Abby, laughing. ‘How about you?’
‘I was lucky. Finished at four,’ said Jon and Abby noticed he seemed to have already had a couple of drinks.
Ellie came over, leading her boyfriend by the hand. ‘Hi, Abby. This is Rory.’
Rory broke free from Ellie and held out his hand. Abby was still clutching her briefcase and her glass, so a handshake became an awkward nod and a raising-of-glasses sort of greeting. She was struck by how normal he looked – average, if she was being unkind – and it surprised her. Ellie usually attracted the good-looking type.
Abby turned to Jon. ‘I guess you guys have already met . . .’
‘Jon’s been telling us about his work with London Harlequins,’ said Ellie enthusiastically. ‘You didn’t say he was a physio for one of the best rugby teams in the country.’
Hadn’t she? Abby couldn’t remember. And since when did her sister know anything about rugby teams and which were the best?
‘So, has everyone had a good day?’ she asked, suddenly noticing a pile of shopping bags near Ellie’s feet.
‘Spent a fortune,’ said Ellie. ‘But it was a lot of fun. Got the most amazing dress.’
She was already looking amazing, thought Abby. That was one of the upsides of working in a school – her sister had the summer off and had acquired a golden tan from the freedom of days outside. She was wearing a blue cotton dress and looked relaxed and carefree. Jon was on her other side and, in his blue shorts and white shirt, they looked as if they were the couple and Abby in her suit was with Rory in his grey trousers.
‘Then Rory and I met for a cocktail before the boat,’ said Ellie, and Abby was reminded of how Rory was a teacher and had the same extended holidays.
‘Nice,’ said Jon. ‘I was hanging around like Billy no-mates.’
‘If we’d known, you could’ve joined us,’ said Ellie warmly.
Abby smiled, but it felt uncomfortable across her lips. She glanced at the two men but neither seemed embarrassed. Abby chided herself: she had to get out of this stressed, corporate mood; her little sister was just being friendly.
‘Hey, there’s the OXO Tower,’ exclaimed Ellie as they passed the landmark. ‘I can recommend their watermelon mojitos.’
‘Blimey,’ said Abby. ‘Must’ve cost a bit, going in there.’
‘It was a one-off,’ said Ellie. ‘And the view was amazing.’ She lifted her arm and waved up at the tower. ‘Hello, lucky people enjoying your mojito cocktails!’ She looked at Abby. ‘Hey, you should come,’ she said, ‘maybe a girlie night out one day?’
‘Bit pricey for me,’ said Abby lightly. ‘What are they, ten quid each?’
‘Thirteen,’ said Ellie, and Abby winced.
‘Abby’s just bought her first flat,’ said Ellie.
‘Oh yeah?’ said Rory. ‘Congratulations.’
‘She’s taken advantage of the recession and the drop in property prices.’
‘Amazing you managed to pull together a deposit,’ said Rory admirably.
Abby shrugged. ‘Saved.’
‘Hard on a teaching assistant’s salary,’ laughed Ellie, but Abby thought she caught a note of resentment. Might be easier if you didn’t shop so much or spend thirteen quid on a drink, she thought, and then immediately hated the way it made her feel.
‘Hey, look,’ said Jon. ‘Is that St Paul’s?’
They all turned to face the other side of the river, and up ahead loomed the familiar dome of the cathedral. It glowed in the soft evening light, its stateliness a direct contrast to the modern gleaming Gherkin which they could see further downstream.
‘What a great city we live in,’ said Ellie. ‘Or at least I will do soon.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Abby, surprised.
‘I’m finally moving out of the parental home. Found a flat in South Wimbledon.’
‘Wow,’ said Abby.
‘Renting, of course.’ Ellie gave a resigned sigh. ‘Except the rent’s the same as a mortgage.’
‘Maybe we’ll all win the lottery one day,’ said Jon. ‘Then we can buy penthouses on the riverfront and retire early.’
At that, they all raised their glasses in solidarity. Although Abby smiled along with them, she hugged her secret to herself. It was something she’d told no one, but that was her quiet dream. Not to buy a penthouse but to retire early. That was why she was working every hour she could, to climb the corporate ladder as fast as she could. She lived on a strict budget that would shock some students and saved every penny she could spare. It made her feel safe.
The band started up and Ellie grabbed Rory’s hand. ‘Come on, let’s dance,’ she said, refusing to take his protests seriously.
Abby felt Jon’s arm rest on her shoulders. ‘You fancy it?’ he asked, but she didn’t. She felt tense and strait-laced and she still hadn’t put her briefcase down. She suddenly had a sense of the evening floating out of her grasp and she took a deep breath. Maybe this double date thing had been a mistake. After all, she still didn’t know Jon all that well herself. They’d met at a work function – she had been at an event with clients at the rugby and Jon had also been in the corporate box. Perhaps it would have been better if they’d gone for an intimate dinner tonight, just the two of them. She looked wistfully at the shore but there was no chance of that. She was stuck on this boat whether she liked it or not.
‘Do you mind if we just stay here a bit?’ she asked.
‘Course!’ he said enthusiastically – too enthusiastically, thought Abby, and she found herself questioning whether he really wanted to.
She fixed on a bright smile. ‘So, have you done any physio today?’
‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘I do it most days.’
Because he’s a physiotherapist, you idiot, thought Abby.
‘Have you been watching any of the Olympics?’ he asked her.
Oh God, she knew this question was going to come up. She’d mentally filed herself a reminder to watch some now she was dating a sports specialist, since it was something that was bound to interest him. But work had taken over and she hadn’t got around to it yet.
‘Not much,’ she said vaguely. ‘Work,’ she explained.
‘Not even Usain Bolt?’
Everyone was talking about Usain Bolt. ‘I saw him on the news,’ she said, and after a pause, Jon nodded.
The silence was broken by the sound of a loud ring. Abby tensed. It was coming from her briefcase which was down by her feet. She knew who was calling.
‘Go ahead. Answer it,’ said Jon.
‘Sure?’
He nodded and she pulled her phone out. As she suspected, it was her boss. She turned away to take the call, listened to how a potential client in the Far East needed a document first thing Monday morning, so that was her weekend gone. She felt Jon tap her on the arm, and he indicated he was going to get them both fresh drinks. She
nodded distractedly. Once she’d jotted down what was needed, several minutes had passed by. God, she needed that drink now. She looked around for Jon but it took her a while to see him, and then she did: he was dancing with Ellie. The track was something that even in that moment she knew she’d never, ever forget: the Arctic Monkeys’ ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’. They did.
Rory came up alongside her, sipping from a pint. ‘So, what do you do?’
‘I’m a business analyst,’ said Abby. ‘For a shipping company.’ She was met with a blank face.
‘Sorry, I don’t know what that means,’ said Rory.
‘No one ever does,’ said Abby, but she wasn’t in the mood to explain.
‘The Globe,’ said Rory, pointing, and Abby looked over at the circular white and black-beamed building with its thatched roof.
‘Give me now leave to leave thee,’ said Rory dramatically. ‘Twelfth Night,’ he explained.
Abby looked at him.
‘Sorry, English teacher.’ There was an awkward pause, then he saw her empty glass. ‘You look like you need a top-up. I can go . . .’ Rory indicated the bar. But then Ellie and Jon looked up and waved, and the track ended and they came over, laughing and hot. Jon gave Abby a long, lingering kiss on the lips – but it still didn’t surprise her when he called up three days later to cancel their dinner date, saying it had been ‘fun’ but he ‘wasn’t ready for a relationship’. It had hurt like hell.
A month later, Abby was walking to the train station, heading home from work. It was eight o’clock and the sky was almost fully dark. A man walking towards her kept looking at her and then away, back and forth. She edged to the side of the pavement and considered crossing the road, but it was too late.
‘Hi,’ said the man, and then she recognized him.
‘Hi,’ she replied, with great relief that it wasn’t some weirdo. ‘Rory!’
‘How’s things?’
‘Yeah, good. Good. I work nearby. Office is over there.’
‘Oh. Cool. I’ve been out with some mates,’ he said, waving vaguely to a row of pubs. ‘Well, it’s nice to see you,’ he said, making a move to carry on.
Abby smiled, amused by his apparent hurry. ‘You too.’
She waved as he made to walk off, but then he suddenly turned back. ‘Got to say, it’s pretty forgiving of you.’
The smile hadn’t left her face. ‘What?’
‘Or is it open-minded?’
‘Sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Ellie. Your sister. Dating Jon.’
Abby felt as if she was falling. She was aware she was staring at Rory, her smile now rigid on her face.
‘You knew, right? Oh shit.’
She snapped out of it. ‘Course I knew,’ she lied. ‘Yeah. Look, I’m going to be late. Train to catch.’ She turned away. ‘Nice to see you,’ she called out before hurrying on, tears filling her eyes.
SEVENTY-FOUR
Ellie almost wavered as she walked down the stairs to the small bar, where legs of cured ham hung in the windows. It wasn’t as if she knew Fredrik well – this meeting had been agreed in a moment of madness, an escapist interlude from the last few days where her perspective on life had been picked up and thrown in the air. In fact, what the hell seemed a perfectly good motto by which to live right now, and thinking this strengthened her again as she walked in the door.
She saw him immediately and her stomach flipped, not with apprehension but with excitement. He looked over and she was gratified to see his eyes light up, and knew she’d done the right thing. He was over to her instantly, buying her a drink, and they found a table tucked away at the back of the room.
‘Thanks for agreeing to meet,’ said Fredrik. His tan had darkened and when he smiled the cracks along the sides of his eyes seemed even whiter.
‘It’s a nice break from the road trip,’ said Ellie.
‘How was France?’
‘Good,’ she replied, knowing she couldn’t tell him anything.
‘And now you’re in Spain!’
‘We just kept on going,’ said Ellie.
He nodded. There was a pause in the conversation where Ellie thought he was making a conscious effort to relax.
‘You look great,’ said Fredrik. ‘That dress suits you.’
Ellie glanced down. ‘It was from my sister. A gift.’
‘Nice gift.’ He spread his hands out. ‘Where is she?’
‘Who?’
‘Abby.’
Ellie tilted her head. ‘Abby?’
‘Yes, that’s right, isn’t it?’
‘Sure. I just don’t remember telling you her name.’
He smiled. ‘You did. When we met at the fountain.’
Ellie thought back. She couldn’t recall doing so, but it didn’t matter. She shrugged. ‘Honest answer is I don’t know. We had a bit of a falling-out.’
‘Sorry to hear that. Nothing serious, I hope?’
She shook her head. ‘Oh no. Just spent a lot of time together the last few days. Got a bit on top of each other, you know. She’s gone out for some space.’
‘You two close?’
Ellie laughed. ‘She’s hated me for most of my life.’
‘How come you’ve ended up on a road trip then?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘I’d like to know.’
Ellie shook her head. ‘No . . . I’ve only got a short while and then Abby will probably be back, rounding me up again. Do you have any siblings?’
‘I’m an only child.’
‘What was that like?’
‘I hated it. I was lonely my whole childhood.’
‘I had a sister but I was lonely too.’
‘I had this imaginary friend,’ said Fredrik, leaning conspiratorially towards her. ‘Aksel. Whenever I did something wrong, I used to blame him. Aksel broke the cup. Aksel took the chocolates from the cupboard. Aksel shaved off the dog’s fur with your razor, Daddy.’
Ellie laughed, incredulous. ‘You shaved off your dog’s fur?’
‘I wanted to see what it looked like underneath.’
‘Wasn’t the dog . . . cold?’
‘I didn’t do all of it. Just a patch.’
‘Oh, that’s OK then.’
He looked contrite. ‘Yeah . . . poor thing probably was a bit chilly. We lived in a small town north of Trondheim. It was January. There was a lot of snow.’
‘Lucky it was Aksel who got the blame, not you.’
‘Yeah . . . except my parents didn’t believe me.’
‘No!’
‘I know! Hard to fathom, eh? Especially as I described Aksel so vividly. He would just never show himself when needed. What about you?’
‘What about me?’
‘Did you have an imaginary scapegoat to take the blame for your innate awfulness?’
‘I was a good girl,’ said Ellie, smiling smugly. ‘Never did anything wrong.’
He laughed. ‘The perfect daughter, right?’
Ellie paused, reflective. ‘I was definitely the favourite. It was obvious. Which is why I don’t understand . . .’
‘What?’
She looked at him, wondering whether to say. These few minutes were probably the last she’d spend with him and then she’d never see him again. ‘My mother did something bad to me as a child. I’ve only just found out. But I don’t have the whole picture.’
‘Have you asked her?’
‘Not yet.’
‘What do you want to know?’
Ellie thought. What did she want to know? ‘She always acted as if I was the apple of her eye. So why did she do that to me? I’m not saying she should have done it to Abby or anything but . . . she loved me.’
‘Call her.’
Ellie shrugged.
‘Honestly. Don’t leave it,’ he urged.
‘How’s the pilgrimage been?’
He was amused. ‘That’s OK if you want to change the subject. The pilgrimage has been good.’
‘How come you’ve managed to take so much time off to do it? Do you work?’
‘I have a very demanding job in Oslo. Long hours. It’s a job I love.’
‘So . . .?’
‘I resigned. Or at least I told them I was coming out here. If they didn’t like it, they’d have to fire me.’
‘Wow, strong words.’
‘It was necessary. I’ll be sad to finish it.’ Fredrik paused. ‘My dad came out here earlier this year. He got to the halfway point – about two hundred and fifty miles – but then went back home. He said he’d been feeling a bit unwell. He called and asked me to go home and visit – he needed some help around the house.’
‘Something’s telling me you didn’t?’
‘I was in the middle of a project. I didn’t want to leave. I made a half-hearted promise to spend time with him in the summer, maybe even join him on the rest of his pilgrimage.’
‘But he’s not with you . . .’
‘He died in June. Got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and was told he had three weeks to live.’
Ellie bit her lip. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘So that’s all I had left. Three short weeks.’
‘You mustn’t feel bad.’
‘I can’t help thinking about all those times I didn’t go home. This year wasn’t the only time. I just enjoyed my life, did what I wanted.’ He took a deep breath. ‘So I decided to get myself out here. Finish his pilgrimage. You want to see my route passport?’
‘Of course.’
‘Every time you get to a hostel you get a stamp.’ Fredrik pulled a folded cardboard booklet out of his pocket, worn and curved from use. He opened it up and ran his fingers along the first stamps, each a different design. ‘Most of these are my dad’s.’ He moved his finger along. ‘And these are mine. Now I’m doing it I miss him even more. Do you know what I mean?’
Ellie nodded and felt a little part of her heart tie with Fredrik’s. She wanted to put her hand on his but wasn’t sure . . . What the hell, she suddenly thought and felt his warm skin under hers. ‘I miss my mum,’ she said softly. ‘I know she’s not dead or anything,’ she added quickly, feeling embarrassed at him thinking she might be comparing her situation to his own tragedy, ‘she’s just not the person I thought I knew. I’ve lost that person and I’ll never get her back.’ Fredrik turned his hand over so he could link his fingers through hers, and Ellie felt as if she was fused to his rough palm. The point where they touched was all she could focus on, as if a current was running through them. And she knew he was feeling the same thing.
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