The Hike(10)

Thankfully, the fresh air seemed to have calmed her raging hangover and she was finding the first part of the hike quite pleasant. Plus, she thought she was looking quite good in her shorts and t-shirt. Cat had insisted she got proper walking gear and had dragged her into one of those horrendous outdoors shops full of horrible fleeces and ugly shoes; the latter she had flatly refused to try on.

Cat and Ginny had bought almost-identical outfits – navy shorts with side pockets and pale-blue t-shirts. Ginny had done it on purpose, seeing what her sister had hooked over her arm and taken to the changing room – and she’d been slightly miffed when Cat hadn’t said anything. Normally she hated it when Ginny copied her. Clearly Paul had got the same memo, as he was wearing something very similar to Tristan’s beige-shorts-and-black-tee combo. From the back they looked very similar. In fact, the casual observer might think the group was two sets of twins.

She giggled to herself at that, trying to get rid of the dodgy sexual connotations it had conjured up. She pulled her necklace out of her t-shirt, admiring the sparkling green stone. She’d found it in a box when the inheritance had come through, just after her thirtieth birthday four months ago. Wearing it was her little treat to herself. The first of many. Cat hadn’t noticed it yet, despite it being a ridiculous item to wear on a hike – but Ginny was scared it might fall off, so keeping it inside her t-shirt was the best plan. She was planning to casually flip it out later, when they were sitting down. See what Cat had to say about it then.

Anyway, she was feeling a lot better now. After her initial nervous chatter, she’d found herself quietening down and the four of them walked in silence, at peace with their surroundings. She’d already forgotten about the two hikers from the WHO and their portentous warnings of rock falls. In fact, the only thing on her mind was the start of a grumbling stomach. Breakfast was hours ago, and she’d only managed coffee and half a dry roll.

‘Hey,’ Ginny called, picking up her pace a bit to catch up with Tristan, who was striding ahead. ‘How soon until we stop for lunch?’

Tristan took her hand and pulled her alongside him. ‘Jesus, Ginny. We’ve barely started. Another hour. Maybe two?’

‘There’s some snacks in the bags, Gin. Hang on.’

She heard Cat’s footsteps stop behind her, the sounds of draw-cords being slackened, Velcro unstuck. She turned around to find her sister brandishing a bruised banana in one hand and a bag of sugary sweets in the other. ‘Will these do you?’

Ginny took the sweets. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got anything nice to drink other than water in there.’ She nodded her head towards Cat’s rucksack.

Cat laughed. ‘Ginny, you’re carrying the drinks. Have you forgotten you’ve got a bag?’

Ginny frowned. She actually had forgotten. Tristan had handed it to her and slid the straps over her shoulders and she hadn’t even thought to ask what was in it. She hadn’t considered that they would actually need much for a few hours up a mountain. Just as well she had others here who were better at organising things than she was.

She shoved some chewy sweets in her mouth and undid her own rucksack, taking out a can of Coke. She flipped the ring-pull and drank greedily, before carrying on walking. She heard Cat muttering something behind her. Then Paul stopped, cupping an ear with a hand. He had a huge grin on his face.

‘Do you hear that?’

They all stopped and listened. It sounded like . . . bells. Tinkling gently in the breeze.

‘What the . . . ?’ Ginny started.

Paul walked quickly up a short incline and disappeared around a bend. ‘Oh wow,’ he shouted. ‘Hurry up, you guys – this is so cool!’

They all picked up the pace and hurried after him. Ginny got there first, energised from the sugar, and burst into laughter as soon as she saw the source of Paul’s wonder.

A herd of creamy-brown and white-patched cows were ambling close to the wire fencing. They were bedecked with horns and cowbells hanging from their necks, jangling as they walked, making that glorious sound.

‘Oh my god,’ Ginny said, clapping her hands with glee. ‘Cat – what was it you said in the bar last night about Heidi? This is amazing. I didn’t think cowbells were an actual thing.’

Tristan laughed, squeezing her shoulder. ‘How else do you think the herders can keep track of them all, Gins?’ He waved an arm, indicating the expanse of the meadow. ‘Look how far they’ve got to roam.’

Ginny shrugged. ‘How am I supposed to know things like that? Anyway. This is so cool. Wait a sec until I take a photo . . .’ She pulled her rucksack off her back and starting rummaging in the pockets. ‘Where’s my phone, I . . . Oh.’ Her face fell as she remembered. ‘You didn’t think of that when you took away our tech, did you, Catatonia?’

Her sister looked annoyed for a second. Ginny knew how much she hated that nickname. She’d started calling her it in primary school – suggesting that Cat was so boring that she sent people into a stupor – and it had stuck, despite all Cat’s attempts to change it. She’d even gone through a phase of demanding that people call her by her full name – Catherine – to try and shake off the annoying moniker, but that just made Ginny more insistent on using it at every opportunity. She wasn’t even sure why she was using it today, but Cat’s smugness had been pissing her off since they got off the plane.