The Hike(3)

At least Paul was always home for dinner. He usually cooked it, in fact. Things had changed a lot since he’d started his new job. Since he’d been forced to start his new job. He was making an effort, but it was mostly in vain because Cat couldn’t bear to have him near her most of the time. Even the thought of his hands on her when she knew they’d been all over someone else was enough to turn her stomach. Just one of the many things that this weekend would fix, once and for all.

Cat had zoned out of her sister’s chat. It was The Ginny Show, as always. Her photos did look good on Instagram though. Festooned with her humble-bragging captions about how she knew it wasn’t as good as the original, but she’d tried her best, hashtag blessed. Cat wondered what her Keto-diet yoga-bunny Insta devotees would think if they could see her now – carb-laden beer and a second cigarette on the go. Cat took another large drink. The beer was nearly gone already. Her sister’s moaning was in danger of ruining her mood.

‘How about we forget all that for the weekend, eh? We’re meant to be here to relax and enjoy ourselves. The four of us haven’t seen each other properly since your birthday party.’ Cat clocked the change in Ginny’s expression and smiled inwardly. Oh yes. We will be discussing that, dear sister, along with some other very important things. But not right now. She signalled to the waiter for two more beers, then spotted the men heading towards them from across the street, and called him back for another two.

Ginny frowned, making her nose wrinkle – but not her forehead, because it was Botoxed to the max. ‘I hope this hike you’ve planned isn’t too strenuous. I really fancy a mooch around the shops and a long soak in the hot tub.’

Tristan stood behind Ginny and placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders. He gave Cat a wink. ‘Au revoir, ladies! Mange tout?’ he said, in an awful Del Boy from Only Fools and Horses accent, the words making no sense in the context, but turning Ginny’s frown into a smile. She really did love Tristan, didn’t she? The poor cow. Tristan reached over and took a swig of Ginny’s beer. ‘Hope you’re not trying to weasel your way out of my carefully planned hike, Wife.’

Ginny wriggled her shoulders, shaking him off. ‘What do you mean your hike. I thought Cat was arranging it all?’

Cat shrugged. ‘He offered to help. I was busy with all the rearranged event bookings, so . . .’

Ginny pulled herself completely away from Tristan, turning awkwardly to address him. ‘Nice of you to find some time for my sister, when you barely find time for me.’ She turned back to face Cat, crossing her arms tightly. ‘You don’t even like each other—’

‘I could’ve helped,’ Paul cut in, his face falling as he pulled out the chair next to Cat. ‘I’ve got far more time than any of you.’

‘That’s because you don’t have a job, mate,’ Tristan said, punching him on the arm. He pulled out the chair opposite and took a handful of peanuts from the bowl, tipping them into his mouth and crunching noisily.

Paul took a breath. Cat could see from the flush rising up the neck of his t-shirt that Tristan’s barbs were getting to him.

Good.

The waiter arrived, depositing the four beers, and more peanuts, on the table. The moment passed.

Paul did have a job, of course. For the last six months he’d been a part-time delivery driver, and he loved it. But Cat knew that all Tristan could see was a city boy who’d burned out, and he refused to let him forget it. Cat had agreed to keep the real reason behind Paul’s career change a secret, and she had no plans to reveal it, even over this weekend. She had other things in mind to deal with that.

‘You guys . . .’ Ginny lifted her bottle. ‘We’re on holiday? Let’s have some fun. Cat and Tristan have worked so hard to arrange this for us. Cheers!’ Her voice was light, but Cat could hear the tension bubbling just below the surface. Ginny was good at painting on a smile. Cat knew that Ginny didn’t want to be here. Cat knew her sister hated hiking, but she was making the effort to keep things friendly. More fool her.

Cat glanced across at Ginny and mouthed a silent thank-you. She didn’t want them all arguing. Not right now. Not tonight.

They all chinked their drinks together, to a chorus of ‘cheers’ and ‘salut’, and Cat smiled, pleased with herself for pulling this weekend together. Because there were a few surprises that she planned to deliver.

And not everyone was going to like them.





Two

FRIDAY NIGHT

Cat decided to slow down after the third beer. Maybe it was stronger than the lager she usually drank at home, or maybe it was the altitude. Or maybe just the excitement . . . but she felt fuzzy-headed and she really didn’t want to feel rough the next day. The others, though, were definitely up for a party.

‘Shall we get a bottle of wine?’ Ginny tossed a peanut in the air and opened her mouth to catch it, but failed. The peanut bounced off her chest and skittered across the table.

Tristan and Paul cheered, and Ginny tried again. Failed again. Then shrugged and finished her beer. ‘Wine? Anyone?’

Cat shook her head. ‘I might slow down a bit, I think. That stuff is like rocket fuel.’ She felt happy with the buzz it had given her, but she didn’t want to push it.

Tristan laughed. ‘Since when were you such a lightweight?’ He stood up. ‘I’ll go and get us all some proper drinks.’ He walked into the bar, ignoring Ginny’s call to him that it was table service and the waiter would be out soon.