The sound of the car came closer, brutally loud in the quiet night, and then it was upon me, the engine roaring like a chainsaw. My eyes were dazzled by the blinding headlights – and then it was gone, into the darkness, only the red of its rear lights showing like ruby eyes in the darkness, backing away.
Its passing had left me blinking and night-blind and even though I waited, hoping my eyes would readjust, the night seemed infinitely darker than a few moments ago, and I was suddenly afraid of running into the ditch at the side of the road, or tripping on a branch. I felt in my pocket for Flo’s head-torch and wrestled it on. It felt awkward, tight enough for the buckle to dig in, but loose enough for me to worry about it falling off as I started up again. At least now I could see the patch of tarmac in front of me, the white markings at the side of the road glittering back at me in the torch beam.
A sudden break on the right showed me that I was at the drive, and I slowed and turned the corner.
Now I was grateful for the head-torch, and it was not a matter of running any more, but a sort of slow, cautious jog, picking my way around muddy troughs and avoiding the potholes that might break an unwary ankle. Even so, my trainers were caked and every step felt like I was dragging a brick – half a pound of clotted mud on the sole of each shoe. I’d have fun cleaning them when I got back.
I tried to remember how far it was – half a mile? I half-wished I’d gone back through the wood, dark or no dark. But far up ahead I could see the beacon of the house, its blank glass walls shining golden in the night.
The mud sucked at my feet, as if trying to keep me here in the dark, and I gritted my teeth and forced my tired legs to go a bit faster.
I was maybe halfway when there was a sound from below, back on the main road. A car, slowing down.
I didn’t have a watch, and I’d left my phone back at the house, but surely it couldn’t be six yet? I hadn’t been running for an hour, nothing like it.
But there it was, the sound of an engine idling as the car made the turn, and then a gritting, growling roar as it began to plough up the hill, bouncing from pothole to pothole.
I flattened myself against the hedge as it got closer, and stood, shielding my eyes from the glare, and hoping that the car wouldn’t splash me with too much mud as it passed, but to my surprise it stopped, its exhaust a cloud of white against the moon, and I heard the whir of an electric window and a blast of Beyoncé, quickly muffled as someone turned the volume down.
I took a step closer, my heart pounding again, as if I’d been running much faster than I had. The head-torch had been angled to point at the ground, for walking rather than talking, and I couldn’t work out how to adjust it back up. Instead I pulled the apparatus from my head, holding it in my hand, and shone it into the pale face of the girl in the car.
But I didn’t need to.
I knew who it was.
Clare.
‘Lee?’ she said, as if in disbelief. The light was full in her eyes, and she blinked and shielded them from the torch beam. ‘My God, is it really you? I didn’t … What are you doing here?’
6
FOR A MINUTE I didn’t understand. Had there been some horrible mistake? Was it possible she hadn’t invited me at all, and this was all Flo’s stupid idea?
‘It— I’m— y-your hen,’ I stammered. ‘Didn’t you—?’
‘I know that, silly!’ She laughed, a nervous gust of white breath in the cold air. ‘I meant, what are you doing out here? Are you training for an Arctic expedition or something?’
‘Having a run,’ I said, trying to make it sound like the most normal thing in the world. ‘It’s not that c-cold. Just a bit nippy.’ But I was cold now, standing still, and I ruined the last words by shivering convulsively.
‘Get in, I’ll give you a lift up to the house.’ She leaned across and opened the passenger door.
‘I’m … my trainers, they’re pretty gross—’
‘Don’t worry. It’s a hire car. Get in already, before we both freeze!’
I squelched round to the passenger side and got in, feeling the heat of the car strike through my cold, sweat-soaked thermals. The mud had penetrated my trainers. My toes were squishing inside the lining in a way that made me shudder.
Clare put the car back into gear and hushed ‘Single Ladies’ with a click of the mute button. The silence was suddenly deafening.
‘So …’ She looked at me sideways in the mirror. She was just as beautiful as ever. I’d been crazy to think ten years could have made a difference to Clare. Her beauty was bone-deep. Even in the dim light of the car, muffled up in an old hoodie and a giant snood-like scarf, she looked startling. Her hair was piled on top of her head in an adorably messy knot that spilled down over her shoulders. Her nails were painted scarlet, but chipped – not try-hard, no one could accuse Clare of that. Pitch-perfect, more like.
‘So,’ I echoed back. I had always felt like the poor relation in comparison to Clare. Ten years had changed nothing, I realised.
‘Long time no see.’ She was shaking her head, her fingertips tapping on the wheel. ‘But God, I mean … it’s good to see you, Lee, you know?’