One of the Girls(21)

Fen spun around. Robyn was crouching near the door, lacing up her hiking boots. She’d forgotten she’d mentioned the hike to Robyn. In truth, she’d have rather stolen out solo, disappeared into the mountains alone, but Robyn was looking so eager as she smiled, rucksack at her side, that Fen could only say, ‘I’m sure.’

The morning light was pure, scented with pine. The sun was still behind the mountain as they followed the winding dirt trail, giving them at least another hour of shade before it crested.

The path ascended through shrubs and cypress trees, clouds of dust rising from the tramp of their footsteps. Robyn kept pace at Fen’s shoulder, ponytail bobbing, pale knees rising.

In the distance, the faint echo of a bell rang across the mountain. ‘Is there a church nearby?’ Robyn asked, a little out of breath.

‘There’s a monastery on the northern side of the mountain. I’ve only seen it from a distance – women are forbidden.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Temptation, I suppose. Keep the monks’ thoughts pure,’ she said with a raised brow. Fen didn’t have much tolerance for the rules of the church; her deeply religious upbringing had left a legacy of guilt and shame surrounding her sexuality, which had taken years to unpack.

As the path narrowed, Fen took the lead. Flowering thyme grew from the sun-cracked earth. A lizard scuttled from beneath a rock, crossing their path and disappearing into a thorny shrub.

‘Thanks for letting me tag along,’ Robyn said. ‘It’s so nice to walk without stopping every ten paces to pick up a dropped toy, or examine an ant, or to coax Jack with a trail of rice cakes.’

Fen laughed. ‘Do you get the chance to hike at all?’

Robyn sighed. ‘No. I miss it. I was in the mountaineering club at university. It was every bit as geeky as it sounds – and I loved it. I carried it on into my twenties, disappearing for weekends in the Brecon Beacons. It’s so wild up there and the colours in spring are breathtaking. But then I met my husband – ex-husband – and I sort of fell out of the habit.’

‘Maybe it’s time to make some new habits.’

‘It is,’ Robyn said from behind her, and Fen could hear the smile in her voice. ‘Lexi said you’re a personal trainer. Think I may have driven past your studio. It’s in Westbourne?’

‘Yes, just off the one-way system.’

‘Do you have a huge bamboo plant in the window?’

‘Two of them.’

‘I pass it on my way to work. I live in Branksome.’

‘Oh? So you’re only down the road from Bella?’

There was a pause. ‘Yes.’

Bella rarely mentioned Robyn and when she did, she gave the impression that Robyn was dull company, one of those friends that she’d have long ago let drift had it not been for Lexi.

‘Do you train Bella? Is that how you met?’

‘We met doing our food shop. Glamorous, right?’

‘I met my ex-husband in a chiropodist’s waiting room. I’m no judge.’

Fen grinned. ‘Makes the canned food aisle feel glamorous. Actually, the circumstances were sad really because we came across a lovely elderly woman, Penny, who was having a stroke. Bella was the first to get to her. She was so calm, so reassuring. Her voice never faltered. She kept talking brightly, calmly. Should’ve guessed she used to be a nurse.’

‘Yes, she was so good at her job,’ Robyn said.

Fen glanced at Robyn. Her expression was at ease. She really doesn’t know.

‘When the ambulance arrived,’ Fen went on, ‘Bella promised Penny that she’d get in touch with her daughter. I knew the street she lived on. It was around the corner from me, so I drove Bella there and waited in the car while she broke the news to Penny’s daughter. After that, Bella and I, well, we were just sitting in my car, catching our breath, I guess. I thought she was going to say something about what had happened, and then this nineties song came on the radio. I think it was TLC. I was about to flick stations when she said, “I love this song.” She started to sing, right there in my car, hopelessly out of tune, but with full conviction.’

Robyn grinned. ‘Was it “Waterfalls”?’

‘Yes!’ Fen tipped back her head and laughed.

‘Thank God for the ten-kilo luggage limit,’ Robyn said. ‘She’d have brought her karaoke machine otherwise.’

‘It was one of Lexi’s three vetoes: No veils, cocks or karaoke.’

Robyn laughed and the sound was loud and deep – a big laugh. Fen liked it.

‘How did you get into personal training?’ Robyn asked as they continued hiking, the path ascending steeply.

Fen could have given Robyn the party line about being passionate about helping others achieve their fitness goals, but instead, perhaps because she was out here, the rhythm of their walk freeing something, she found herself confiding, ‘I went through a pretty rough patch a few years ago.’ She glanced briefly across the cliffs, her gaze falling fleetingly on the villa, a dark memory swimming to the surface. ‘I lost my confidence. My motivation. I was unfit, eating badly. I still didn’t know many people in Bournemouth, so I used to take myself off for these long walks on the seafront … just because it was easier than sitting still.’

Fen kept up her pace as she said, ‘Gradually, I became fitter, and soon I was putting trainers on, deciding to run a little of the way. I don’t know whether it was as simple as releasing endorphins or the exercise getting me out in nature, but I started to feel more like myself again. I lost weight, I felt stronger. Happier.’