All That Is Lost Between Us

‘Nope, he’s single; I’ve been prising information out of him slowly. I know a fair few people who have their eye on him, though,’ she chuckles, showing her large horsey teeth. ‘I wouldn’t say no myself,’ she adds. ‘Are you thinking of setting him up with someone?’


‘Maybe,’ I stall, and to my good fortune I see Zac coming towards us at that moment, his expression miserable. ‘Excuse me for a second.’

‘What’s the matter?’ I ask as I catch up to him. ‘You look ill.’

He shakes his head, handing me my phone. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll be all right.’

He’s so woebegone. Without thinking I put my arm around him and kiss his hair, relishing the brief opportunity to get this close, to suck in the smell of him like I used to when he was a baby. For once, he doesn’t move away before I do.

‘I’m not sure who the next hour will be tougher on – us or Georgia,’ Callum says behind us, appearing from nowhere. ‘Shall we go over to the marshals’ tent?’

‘Where have you been?’ I ask, only realising I’ve snapped the words at him when he frowns at me.

‘Just got waylaid. Sorry. I’m here now. Do you want me to get you a coffee or something while we wait?’

He gestures to the van behind us. Ordinarily I would jump at the offer, but today I don’t need to be any shakier than I already am.

Callum is watching me closely. ‘Anya, are you okay?’

‘Sorry. I don’t want a coffee, thanks. And no, I don’t think I am okay.’

His arm comes over my shoulder, loops across my chest and pulls me back against him. ‘She will be fine,’ he whispers into my ear. ‘We all will be.’

I manage to catch my emotions before they escape, since Zac is so close. I can’t recall when Callum last made a gesture like this; the last time I heard that soft tone in his voice. I don’t say anything, but I hope he feels me lean against him.

There is so much that Callum and I have to talk about, but later, when this is over. Everything is suspended while we wait for Georgia’s return. Nothing matters except seeing our daughter run back down that hill.

‘I wonder how she’s going,’ I murmur, my eyes intent on the trees lining the horizon, even though it’s far too soon for anyone to be coming back yet.

‘She’s going great, I’m sure of it – she always does,’ Callum replies. ‘She’s so focused, so determined.’

‘It doesn’t look like the weather will hold much longer.’ There are more and more stony grey clouds gathering over us, bulging lower and lower in the sky.

‘Yeah, she might get a bit wet towards the end, but it’s nothing she hasn’t encountered before.’

Not long after he has said this, the first drops spatter our faces. ‘Damn, we’ve left our gear in the car,’ I say, as people around us bend to collect umbrellas or dig in bags for waterproof clothing. At least Callum and I have jackets. I glance across at my son, who is wearing only a hoodie and jeans. ‘Zac, why don’t you go and wait inside the hall or you’ll get soaked.’

‘It’s okay,’ he says to my surprise. ‘I’ll stay here.’

I can see the strain on his face, and I start to wonder what he knows. I want to quiz him but now is not the time – we need Georgia back with us first, and then perhaps we can sit down as a family and piece together exactly what has been going on.

Callum still has his arm around me. Now that he is with us, everything will be so much easier. Georgia has always found it easy to talk to her dad, whereas if Zac has a problem he heads for me. Perhaps it’s just the way we are, and I need to let it be, even though I would love more heart-to-hearts with my daughter.

The rain is coming harder. Most people are retreating to stand under the few tents that are set up, or wait in the doorway of the sports hall, eyes never leaving the hillside, straining to see which one of our children will emerge first. Only Zac and Callum and I stand close to the finish line, letting the rain soak us, as careless and rigid as scarecrows, huddled together as though we might shelter one another from what is coming.

My mobile rings loudly in the expectant hush. When I collect it from my bag I see Helene’s name on the screen. As I answer the call I pray this isn’t bad news – as far as we know, Sophia has been doing well since she came round yesterday.

‘Helene, how’s everything going?’ I ask her, moving away from the others slightly. ‘How’s Sophia today?’

‘She’s much brighter, thanks, although she’s frustrated about the physical discomfort. Listen, Anya, where are you?’

‘We’re at the school. Georgia’s racing, we’re waiting for her to finish.’

‘Well, listen, I’m sorry to blurt this out in the middle of all that, but Sophia and I have been talking this morning, and it turns out there’s been a lot going on with my daughter lately.’

‘Really? What do you mean?’ I ask, certain it couldn’t be any more explosive than my suspicions about Georgia and Leo Freeman.

‘Sophia’s been seeing someone. I didn’t have a clue about any of it, and Georgia is unwittingly involved, I’m afraid. You’d better brace yourself, Anya. I’m sorry, but you’re not going to like this at all.’





32


GEORGIA

Sara Foster's books