Over the summer holidays, the nights spent at Bethany’s house had been riotous – beer and cocktails flowing, a succession of daft games from limbo dancing to hide-and-seek, not to mention endless rounds of cards in which money changed hands, and a particularly memorable evening of strip poker that ended with Eddie and Oliver running down the lane naked for a dare. But tonight only half the group had made it, and even though there was plenty of laughter, the evening felt forced. They all lounged around on the sofas in various poses of exhaustion, and by nine o clock the conversation had grown patchy, the atmosphere subdued. They were the stragglers, each trying to hang on to the carefree feel of the summer holidays, but already, a few weeks into term, the solemn challenges of the year ahead couldn’t be denied.
‘Another drink?’ Danny was asking, but Georgia knew that one more and her head would start to swirl. Saturday’s race was too important for that. She was thinking about heading home when Sophia came over and suggested they walk back together. As they grabbed coats and said their goodbyes, she tried to ignore Danny’s obvious disappointment.
And finally, Sophia was beside her, the door closing behind them, and the confession rose to the tip of Georgia’s lips. For a few glorious weeks, having such a secret had felt wild and delicious, making every day a little sweeter. But it was a shape-shifter, a bubble of trouble lightly fizzing in her hands to begin with, only later revealing itself as a bomb. She couldn’t hold on to it any longer. She couldn’t carry on alone, afraid of what might be about to explode in her face. She had to tell Sophia now.
Her heart hammered in anticipation as they set off down the lane. She waited until they were a decent distance from the house, and was just about to start talking, when Sophia turned towards her, her face serious, and took a deep breath. ‘Georgia, I—’
A door slammed and they heard footsteps behind them. A voice shouted, ‘Georgia!’ and she turned to see Danny jogging to catch up.
Sophia sighed, rolled her eyes and stomped ahead. Georgia faltered, dismayed as her small window of opportunity was slammed shut. She hurried after her cousin, with Danny close behind.
‘I need to get home too,’ he said as he caught up with them. ‘I don’t want to get drunk and stuff up the race.’ He smiled, then seemed to misread her expression. ‘You are going to win, Georgia. I’d put money on it.’
While he spoke, he took her hand. The movement was smooth and casual, as though this were the most natural thing in the world. She waited for him to release his grip, but he didn’t. Moments before, she had wanted to scream with frustration, but now she found she didn’t want him to let go. The feel of his warm skin against hers had her pulse thudding in her ears as loudly as when she caught sight of the finish line after a long race.
She pulled him with her, trying to keep up with her cousin. ‘You all right, Sophia?’ Danny called, but Sophia merely mumbled something over her shoulder and quickened her pace. Georgia gave him an apologetic look, but after that they made an awkward threesome with little to say.
A few months ago at this time of night they could have completed the entire journey bathed in the buttery glow of summer twilight, and perhaps that would have made all the difference. But now it was so dark that Georgia couldn’t see where each of her steps landed, and in another few months there would be times when it would take twice as long to trudge this way in snow, weighed down with wellingtons and thick jackets. The seasons were shifting seamlessly, a subtle reminder of other unrelenting changes that went on all around them. Already she could sense things falling away. Next year their exams would be done and the same first drift of autumn leaves would see her friends scattered across the country pursuing their different dreams.
They had walked this way many times before, and yet tonight Georgia felt that each step was unfamiliar. She was conscious of every puff of breath escaping into the crisp country air. The shortcut towards town had always been deceptive, even in daylight. To the right was a tennis court and playground, while to the left were fields patched with trees, and beyond both, surrounding them and sheltering the valley, were a huddled row of craggy Lakeland peaks. They were invisible in the darkness, but she knew they were there, as stoic and sure as the stars that peeked around the clouds. They were the reason that Ambleside’s major source of income was the tourist trade. For a little while you wouldn’t know you were so close to town, to the tightly packed slate terraces, the bustling pubs and restaurants, people hurrying in groups to get out of the drizzle. So much moving life so close by, and yet here, silence.