The Hike(37)

‘A lot of this was quite stupid, in hindsight,’ Tristan said, ‘but she wasn’t meant to go over the side with her rucksack still strapped to her back.’

She ignored his jibe. ‘I got this at that trade fair in Ascot, would you believe. I liked that it was in its own little case, so I just tossed it in.’

Tristan laughed. ‘Oh, the irony.’ He took the torch from her and clicked it on. It was small, but the beam was pretty decent.

She snatched it back from him. ‘I’ll have that, thank you. Seeing as I was the only one to think of emergencies.’

He took her face in his hands. Kissed her nose. ‘And this, my little Kitty-Cat, is why I love you.’

She let him kiss her properly then, and as he did, she managed to push away her earlier thoughts about what she’d done. What he’d done, too. And about his anger and violence. Just the stress, she decided. Who wouldn’t be stressed in a situation like this? She pulled back. ‘I suppose we’d better get going. You know the way, right? We don’t have to go all the way up these steps, do we?’ She laid a hand on her stomach, without thinking. The nausea was gone for now, but it might come back.

Tristan didn’t seem to notice. He hadn’t mentioned the whole ‘you’re throwing up so you must be pregnant thing’, distracted by the later happenings, but no doubt it would slot back into his mind again soon and then they’d have to have that conversation.

‘I need the torch,’ he said. He’d pulled the map out of the plastic pocket that was in one of his pockets. He’d taken the lanyard off when he climbed down the mountain. She sat closer to him as he shone the torch over the slightly wrinkled paper. ‘OK, so we’re nearly back to where we were meant to be, I think. After the diversion. We just need to get up this bit, then we’re away from the edge and around the top of one of the meadows.’

Cat was confused. ‘Right, so after that, we’re no longer on the edge overlooking the valley? Where’s the bit where we were actually supposed to . . . you know.’ Despite what she’d done, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She knew it would all sink in later. But for now, it was best to stick to the practicalities.

Tristan refolded the map and slipped it back into the plastic wallet, then put it in the side pocket of his shorts. He and Paul had been wearing similar cargo shorts, with multiple pockets. She pictured Paul, slipping something into his, not long before he’d fallen. Thinking about it, did she really know what any of them were carrying? She’d brought the torch that no one else knew about. Paul had clearly had something that he didn’t want her to see. And god knows what Tristan might have stashed in his pockets and his bag. But as long as he had what they needed to get through the night, she was just going to have to trust him.

‘It won’t be too long until we make it to the shelter, babe. Try not to worry. Yes, things have not gone entirely to plan, but we got the job done.’ He stood up and picked up his rucksack. ‘You carry the torch – it’ll make you feel better.’

She stood up, took hold of his elbow. ‘You didn’t answer my question. I said where was the part where Ginny and Paul were supposed to have the accident?’

He frowned, shrugging her off. ‘It doesn’t matter now, does it?’

He started walking, keeping close to the inside; away from the edge. She shone the torch so it spilled out a muted yellow path for them both ahead. She tried not to think about what they were doing. About the danger they were in. If either of them slipped . . .

And she tried to push away his pissy attitude and vague replies.

Cat didn’t like the way he was being so dismissive of her. All the time when they’d been planning this trip, he’d been loving and caring. She’d seen a different Tristan to the one she usually saw with Ginny. To the one that Ginny spent her time complaining about. A sliver of icy fear slid down her back. She’d been too trusting.

That was her whole problem. It’s why she’d got into this whole plan at the start. The Tristan she’d been with was the ‘affair Tristan’, the one who could be as sexy and romantic as he liked, because the harsh truth was – affairs were not real life. Even when they were long-term. And she could see now, that for men like Tristan, the thrill was what it was all about. He had her now. They had both lost their partners in a tragic accident. No one would find it odd if, in a few months’ time, they became close. That sort of thing happened all the time.

Luckily she’d been putting some plans of her own in place, alongside the one that she and Tristan had put together, first over coffees, then drinks. Then in snatched moments after illicit sex in any place they could find. She might be too trusting, but she knew enough about human nature to know that she needed security. Just in case. Like the money, for a kick-off.

She wondered, what he would do when he realised it was gone?





Thirty-One

SATURDAY NIGHT

Tristan was glad when they made it to the top of the stone steps and into the meadow. From what he could see on the map, the route was now meant to take them across the top path of a steep pasture. Yes, they could still fall, but the worst that could happen is they’d roll into a sleeping sheep. Or a sleeping shepherd.

He thought back to that guy from earlier, the one that Ginny had been convinced was at the bar in the restaurant. Tristan couldn’t remember taking much notice. He’d been too busy watching Cat. He’d loved watching her trying to keep a straight face when he’d run his foot up to her crotch. Typical Ginny, getting herself worked up about nothing. So what if the guy had been at the bar? He clearly lived in the area.