‘Very brave or very stupid.’
She shrugs. ‘You have to take a risk. I took a risk with my on-line clothing business and luckily, it’s working out.’
I nod. ‘Good for you.’ I’d heard on the grapevine that in five years of business, Lucy has sold three tunic tops made out of black PVC and one skirt held together with giant safety pins. But at least she’s doing what she loves. And it’s not as if she and Jason need the money, by all accounts.
I busy myself cutting up a Madeira cake into squares. ‘If your heart is in it, you should just go for it.’
‘And is your heart in selling coffee and cakes?’
‘Yes. It is, actually.’ I glance over my shoulder at her. Is she belittling my ambition? Or just being curious? ‘It’s a bit of a dream come true, to be honest. And it’s important to Dad. He’s over the moon I’m making use of his shop.’
She nods thoughtfully then sits down on a stool and just watches me. Her silence makes me clumsy and the cake slice slips out of my hand.
As I dive down to rescue it, Lucy says, ‘I do hope your café is a success.’
My eyes dart up to her face. It’s a simple enough statement. But something in her tone makes me hear warning bells – like years ago, at first school, when she’d taunt me, saying softly, ‘You like that pencil case, don’t you?’ then next day it would be found ripped and lying in a pool of mud.
I’m crouched on the floor and Lucy’s staring down at me from her perch on the stool, an intense expression in those ethereal-looking, black-rimmed eyes. A feeling of nausea hits from nowhere. Grabbing the cake slice, I scramble to my feet and move away from her, over to the window.
‘Gosh, it’s hot in here.’ I fumble with the catch and finally get the window open. I stand there, staring out, gulping in air. ‘It must be because the oven’s been on.’ I glance back, forcing a smile. ‘I suppose a day of seventy-degree heat isn’t the best time to be baking for England!’
Her continuing silence is more menacing than any insults she could hurl at me.
With hands that tremble slightly, I snap the lid on the box and head for the door. How can it be that after all this time, whenever Lucy is in the same room, my heart is always in my mouth, just waiting for her to pounce?
As I pass, she grabs my arm, just above the wrist, and I stop in my tracks and turn to face her.
She smiles and hops off the stool. ‘I’m sure it will be a success. Your café, I mean. Now, let’s get back in there, otherwise there’s a danger we might miss out on some juicy gossip.’ She links my arm and squeezes it lightly and we walk out to the treehouse.
Paloma, leaning on the windowsill, smiles at us from on high.
We must look, for all the world, like old friends happily catching up on the years in between …
Chapter 12
When I wake up, I realise it’s Sunday and I give a thankful yawn and stretch. Even with a café opening frighteningly imminent, and dozens of jobs still to tackle before then, surely a small lie-in on a Sunday is allowed?
Then two things occur simultaneously to flatten my prospects of a well-earned snooze.
Someone bangs on the front door.
And I remember it’s Lucy’s boot camp day.
Groaning, I pull the duvet over my head, hoping Paloma will take the hint and jog off to the assembly point on the village green without me. But no such luck. After a blissful few seconds of silence, my phone starts to ring.
Ten minutes later, we set off on the short walk to the village green.
A rumbling noise in the distance makes me grip Paloma’s arm. ‘Thunder.’
‘Really?’ Paloma shakes her head and gazes up at the sky. There are still patches of blue in between the grey clouds. ‘I don’t think so.’ She grins. ‘Is this an excuse to get out of training?’
I shake my head, my eyes trained on the suspiciously murky horizon. ‘It was definitely thunder. And no, it’s not an excuse.’
It’s been hot and humid for days now and on the news last night, they were predicting a storm. That’s another reason – actually the main reason – I wanted to just hibernate indoors today.
Storms really freak me out.
‘If there is a storm brewing, it looks pretty far away to me,’ says Paloma, and I feel my shoulders relax. She’s right. It looks miles away. I need to forget about it and concentrate on the more immediate crisis – surviving Lucy’s boot camp.
‘The exercise will be good for you,’ my dear friend adds, far too cheerfully for my liking.
She looks as fresh as the proverbial daisy in her dark blue and cute pink top baring her very flat midriff, whereas ‘bedraggled dandelion’ feels like a more apt description for me – not great when I’m having to psych myself up to face the Vile Twins, Lucy and Olivia, and no doubt have my upper arms ‘jiggle tested’ at random.
I haven’t had time to iron my shorts and T-shirt – or my face, for that matter. There’s a big red crease down my left cheek where I must have been lying on my arm. A bit of make-up would have worked wonders, but Paloma wouldn’t let me. We didn’t have time, apparently. We needed to join the keep-fitters. Get into the community spirit. Show that Lucy Slater what we were made of.
My answer to that was a rebellious grunt.
When we arrive, the first person I see is Theo Steel, looking Olympics-ready in proper running gear. My heart lurches when I see who he’s talking to: Olivia. She’s looking up at him with a little coquettish smile, twirling a lock of blonde hair as he regales her with some story, using his big hands expressively. My teeth gnash together. Olivia couldn’t look more perfect in a skimpy jade green top and little black Lycra shorts that show off her tiny peachy bum. As I watch surreptitiously, Theo Steel leans closer to her with one of his big, sexy smiles, and drapes his arm casually around her shoulders …
‘What’s wrong?’ asks Paloma. ‘Have you spotted Lucy? You look like an alpha male tiger who’s just set eyes on an arch rival.’
I clear my throat awkwardly. ‘No, it’s – um – Olivia. I’m worried she’ll come over and start telling me off for not having lost a stone since she last saw me.’ I bend down to retie my shoelaces and hide the weird flush that’s crept into my cheeks.
If Theo Steel wants to mess around with Olivia, that’s entirely up to him. It’s absolutely none of my business. I won’t even look at them. They are of no interest to me whatsoever …
Paloma laughs. ‘Stop glaring at her. You really don’t like her, do you?’
I feign nonchalance. ‘Who? Olivia? Never really thought about it to be honest.’
A surprising number of people are already assembled on the green – probably around fifty or sixty of them – and from what I can make out, they seem to fall into one of two categories. There are the ones standing round in little groups, looking stiff and awkward, probably because the last time they went out so skimpily dressed was on the beach in Magaluf. And then there are the ones who are limbering up, proving they can touch their toes with ease and generally showing off.
I look around for Jason, but he doesn’t seem to be here. Wise man. He must have come up with a solid excuse because I can’t imagine Lucy letting him off lightly.
Paloma does a supple jog on the spot.
‘Don’t.’ I glare at her. ‘Just don’t.’
She grins. ‘Okay. Keep your hair on. Christ, I wonder what torture Lucy has in store for us.’
We soon find out. After a group session of stretches, led by Olivia, Lucy announces that we’re going to attempt a five-mile run through the lanes around Hart’s End.
‘The route is clearly marked. Just look for the yellow stickers on fences and tree trunks.’ Lucy raises her slightly screechy voice to be heard at the back and I want to put my fingers in my ears. ‘Although if you follow the person in front, you’re not likely to get lost. And it goes without saying, you should all run at your own pace. If you’ve been sticking to our suggested training schedule for the past few weeks, you should be getting int
o fairly good shape by now.’ She glances at Olivia. ‘We’ve seen a lot of you out running through the village in the evenings and at weekends, so well done! Although I have heard through the grapevine that some of you seem determined to remain couch potatoes.’
A titter goes round the assembled group and there are a few guilty smiles.
‘I’ve heard a few interesting excuses why people haven’t got time to exercise. But being forced to bake cakes all day, every day, is probably the best one.’
Lucy looks ‘jokingly’ in my direction as she says this, and more people laugh. A few who know about me setting up the café turn to grin at me, and my face flushes the colour of pickled beetroot.
Then I catch a familiar eye and wish the ground could swallow me and my blushes right up. Theo Steel is grinning over at me, having clearly got the joke.
‘You know who I’m talking about – Twilight!’ calls Lucy as I grit my teeth. More laughter. ‘But hey, listen, don’t worry about it. Just take it slowly. Even if you have to walk all the way, that’s absolutely fine.’ She’s talking directly to me now, which is so bloody mortifying. ‘Remember, finishing the course is the important thing. All right?’ She cocks her head to the side and smiles at me as if I’m five years old.
‘Fine,’ I mumble.
‘Great!’ She rubs her hands together, murmurs something to Olivia, then announces, ‘Okay, let’s get going. Remember it’s not a race. This way, people!’
‘God, she’s loving this.’ Paloma grins as we set off. ‘Being in charge.’
I curl my lip moodily in the direction of Lucy’s slender form as she runs effortlessly towards the group of trees at the edge of the village green, pursued by her eager band of followers, including Theo Steel near the head of the pack. ‘Why am I doing this?’
‘You’ll be fine. Exercise is a fantastic stress reliever,’ says Paloma. ‘It’ll give you a lift. Help you meet the challenge of your café opening next week head-on.’
‘Hm.’
‘Are you all right?’ she asks a minute later, looking genuinely concerned, and I nod. I’d like to expand on this, but I’ve run about fifty paces and already breathing has become a scarily strenuous effort.
‘Listen, I might … walk a bit,’ I gasp. ‘You … just run on ahead. I don’t … want to hold you up.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’ I attempt a grin, although it takes up far too much energy. ‘Go on … bugger off … you’re showing me up.’
She laughs and accelerates off. ‘See you at the finish line,’ she calls, turning to smile then sprinting for the trees.
I want to shout, Yes. A week next Tuesday! But I fear the effort would finish me off. Panting along resignedly, I stare after Paloma.
Lucy, Olivia and Theo have disappeared into the trees, but my heart is going to literally explode out of my chest if I don’t slow down a bit. I keep up the pretence of jogging normally until everyone else has overtaken me – even old Stan, who has dodgy joints and celebrated his ninetieth birthday last week. He gives me a cheery wave as he power walks past.
I come to an abrupt halt then start walking very slowly to get my breath back. It’s my own fault. I should have kept training like Paloma, who’s probably halfway round the course by now. It’s just every time I think of the gym, I remember the look on Theo Steel’s face when I barged into the changing room and I cringe with embarrassment all over again. One thing’s for sure: I definitely haven’t got stamina! I can no longer rely on that stupid myth to get me through. I need to actually get out there and move to get myself fit, and I will. I definitely will. I’m not having bloody Lucy Slater making a show of me again.
For now, though, my aim is to get round this 5k course without expiring in the process.
The route is nicely scenic, winding in and out of the trees by the village green then along country lanes in the direction of Lake Heath. I walk at a brisk pace, keeping my eye on Stan up ahead. He keeps disappearing round a bend and at those moments I start to feel uneasy, wondering if I’ll be doomed to pound the lanes around Hart’s End forever, totally lost, like the conclusion to some weird horror film. Then Stan pops up again in the distance and my panic subsides.
At one point, the route takes us up quite a steep incline, which slows me down a bit. I’m sweaty and out of breath when I get to the top, but it’s worth it for the lovely view over Lake Heath. I’m getting the hang of spotting Lucy’s markers now, on trees and churchyard walls, and a few of the runners who started off enthusiastically have slowed right down. I can see them up ahead, although it’s still going to take me a while to catch them up.
After we’ve passed through Lake Heath, the route doubles back towards Hart’s End, crossing several fields. I nearly get lost at that point because the track is practically non-existent. Then I spot Stan’s white peaky cap up ahead by a gap in a hedge and breathe a sigh of relief.
The main road into Hart’s End is on the other side of the hedge and I spot a signpost that says the village is one-and-a-half miles away. My heart sinks. I’m not sure I’ve got another hundred yards in my tank, never mind over a mile! My legs feel like jelly.
A squeaky noise makes me turn. A woman on a bike is pedalling very slowly up the slight incline. She’s red in the face and sweating with the effort, and I feel an instant solidarity. As she passes, we exchange a knowing smile.
‘Hellish this, isn’t it?’ she shouts cheerfully.
‘Bloody awful. Especially when you haven’t done any training.’
She slows to a stop and gets off the bike. ‘I’m meeting my friend for lunch.’ She nods at a country pub in the distance. ‘Wish to God I’d brought the car instead.’
‘Know what you mean.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Hart’s End. The other runners are probably back there by now.’
She makes a sympathetic face. ‘I’m Sue, by the way.’
‘Twilight.’
Her eyes open in surprise. ‘Lovely name.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You can borrow my bike if you like.’
‘What? Really?’
She shrugs. ‘You’d get back a bit faster, wouldn’t you?’
‘Well, yes, I suppose so.’ It’s extremely tempting. But I can’t. Can I? ‘But what about you?’
‘Oh, I’m getting a lift back with my friend. I’m not getting back on this bloody thing. I’ll give you my address and you can drop the bike back any time.’
I smile. ‘It’s a lovely offer. Thank you so much. But I can’t. I’d feel terrible cheating like that.’
‘Sure?’
‘Sure. But thanks!’
‘Okay.’ She clambers back on the bike and pushes off, calling back cheerfully, ‘Have a good one!’
‘You, too. Enjoy your lunch!’
She waves energetically and gets a bit of a wobble on before managing to straighten up.
Mournfully, I plod on as my new friend disappears from view, round a bend in the lane. Why didn’t I say yes to the bike? I’m on my own again now. Even Stan’s cap is nowhere to be seen. Will everyone be waiting for me when I get back to the village green? Oh God, yes, they will. Lucy will make sure they are. I’ll no doubt get a welcome committee and a round of hilarious applause for coming in last. Theo Steel will be there, grinning away and clapping and thinking I’m a total plonker.
A mechanical noise behind me distracts me from this nightmare vision.
I turn and spy the number forty-five bus to Hart’s End rumbling slowly up the incline, and my heart leaps in my chest. It’s like when the cavalry turns up in those cowboy and Indian movies my granddad used to love.
My tired brain is suddenly razor sharp. There’s a bus stop a few yards ahead and if I hurry, I’ll just make it. It would be rude not to! Fumbling in my shorts pocket, my hand closes on the pound coin I use to work my locker at the gym. Yes! I start to run, frantically sticking my hand out to stop the bus.
It grinds to a halt, the doors open a
nd I clamber on.
‘One-fifty,’ says the driver, unsmilingly.
My heart sinks. ‘But it’s only a mile to Hart’s End.’
‘It’s still one-fifty.’
I clutch my stomach. ‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ I tell him truthfully. ‘But if I could just sit down, I might be okay.’
For one terrible moment, as he glares at me under his mono-brow, I think he’s actually going to get up and manhandle me off the bus.
Then he jerks his thumb backwards with a disgusted look, waving me on.
‘Really?’ I’m so grateful I want to kiss him.
I fall into the nearest seat, ignoring my gawping fellow passengers, and stare out of the window as my heart rate slows and the nausea subsides. My ankle is throbbing gently.
As we approach Hart’s End, I catch sight of several groups of runners jogging wearily to the green and I quickly slide down in my seat to avoid being seen. I’m planning to get off at the high street stop, then jog the rest of the way, mingling with the other runners so Lucy won’t be able to single me out.
Approaching the stop, I glance this way and that along the high street. The coast is clear. No one will ever know I cheated a little bit! Feeling pleased with myself, I step off the bus – and the first person I spot, coming out of the newsagent’s with a paper under his arm, is Theo Steel.
I dive behind the bus shelter and hide until he’s safely on his way, then I start jogging after him, smiling at my lucky escape. Thank goodness he didn’t see me!
Finally arriving at the green, I join Paloma who’s flopped out on her back on the grass. She sits up, shading her eyes against the sun. Luckily, the threatened storm has passed. ‘Hey, well done. You did it. Not bad for someone who never exercises.’
‘Aw shucks,’ I say, feigning modesty. ‘It wasn’t too hard at all, really.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ says a voice at my shoulder, and I spin round to see Theo Steel standing there.
‘Oh, hi. Yes, I finished just behind you, I think.’ I laugh nervously. ‘What took you so long?’
He grins. ‘I did the course twice.’
‘Ah! Right. Of course.’ I swing round to Paloma. ‘You two haven’t met, have you? Paloma, this is Theo.’
Love Among the Treetops Page 9