Crossing the Line

By Toni James

Published by Freya Publications

Visit Freya Publications

at

www.freyapublications.com

Copyright Toni James 2012

Freya Publications

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means electrical or mechanical, including photocopy without permission in writing from the publisher.

All characters within this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Produced in the United Kingdom for Freya Publications

Cover Image by Kathleen K Parker

(http://kathleen-k-parker.artistwebsites.com/)

Cover Design by Charlie Finn and Kathleen K Parker

Edited by Susan Ashley

Crossing the Line

Kindle Edition

ISBN 978-1-4710-8980-0

For my dear friend Rachael, whose indomitable spirit

is a constant source of inspiration

Part One

Accidents and Emergencies

Chapter One

It was right behind her.

She tore through the trees like an animal. Branches whipped across her face and ripped at her naked skin. She didn’t know how long she had been running, but her throat was raw with the effort and her legs burned. She mustn't slow down, not for a second.

Heavy feet pounded the trail behind her, the massive, thunderous footfalls echoing in her brain. Tearing up the trail, she ploughed deeper into the woods where overhead, the canopy was so dense it was impossible to tell if it was day or night.

She had no sense of time. She didn’t know where she was. She only knew that she had to run. If she stopped, it would catch her, but for reasons she couldn’t understand, she was starting to slow down; and then suddenly her legs would barely move at all. She tried to push on, but they dragged through the sludge like two lead weights.

The scream caught in her throat…

Rachel Ryder sat bolt upright in bed.  Her heart hammered in her chest and a clammy film of sweat soaked into her vest and shorts.

It was only a dream; just that dream again.

Early morning sunshine streamed in through a small gap in the blinds and she turned to check the clock. 6.14.

Shit. Only twelve hours and forty-six minutes to the race.

Collapsing back on her pillow, Rachel listened to the steady soundtrack of her pulse and gazed up at a worrying crack, which had recently appeared in one corner of the bedroom ceiling. Instinctively, she glanced at the empty space in the bed beside her. She still wasn’t accustomed to sleeping alone. She wondered if she would ever get used to it. Her mind drifted back to the nightmare, which bore all the classic signs of anxiety. It was ridiculous to get so worked up about a race, but even thinking about it now caused her stomach to lurch and she closed her eyes. For about the hundredth time that week, she tried to visualize the route; it was a tough, hilly course, over treacherous terrain. She suddenly felt a little queasy. At that moment, the alarm clock blared out its irritating fanfare, startling her all over again, and with a weary sigh, she reached out a hand to silence it. Reluctantly, Rachel crawled from her bed and headed for the shower.

***

Pulling her favourite sweater over her head, she stumbled out of the front door, squinting against the glare of morning. Although early, the sun was warm on her face, and she peered up approvingly at the clear skies overhead.

She lived in the once-splendid, downstairs wing of a converted Victorian Villa. The place had seen better days, but still it seemed quite incredible to her that at one time, just a single family had inhabited this entire building, with its vast, airy rooms, sweeping staircases and grand courtyard. It was barely visible from the roadside; only the occasional glimpse of its crumbling, red walls could be seen from between the dense perimeter of conifer and pine. Above the treetops, a fat chimney pot stood proudly; its intricate lines a fitting tribute to the craft and patience of another time. But the house had its issues; the front door was always jammed, the water temperature never rose much above tepid and quite often, inexplicable noises could be heard from behind the walls. Yet in spite of all this, Rachel couldn’t imagine ever leaving her old apartment, even though it was entirely too big for just one person.

She skipped across the road and jumped into her car. The classic VW beetle had over a hundred thousand miles on the clock, but still ran like a dream and after years of her love and care, the bright yellow paintwork looked as good as new.  Rachel unhooked the roof, flipped it back and gunned the engine. Then, with “Florence and the Machine” blasting out of the speakers, she drove the short distance to campus rather faster than usual.

***

 “Hey! What are you doing here? Don’t you know what time it is?” 

The light was minimal in the Senior Common Room. Dark paneling on the walls exaggerated the gloom and one tiny window allowed only a subtle suggestion of dawn to creep in through its uneven panes.

Mel Bishop cut a solitary figure, sitting beneath a small pool of light at her desk in the far corner. Seeing Rachel, she swirled around and beamed.  “Hey you! I could ask you the same question.”

Rachel crossed the deserted room, toward her. “I’m always here at this time. The question is, why are you here? Has your landlord kicked you out again?”

She scowled. “Actually I don’t have a landlord anymore…I have a landlady now and, in spite of her being the most unpleasant woman in Manchester, she hasn’t thrown me out…yet! But hey, the day is young.”

“It is!” Rachel agreed. “Which brings me back to my original question. What are you doing here…seriously?”

Mel rolled her eyes. “Do you really need to ask?… I’m planning my seminars.”

Rachel made for the coffee machine. “Mel! Are you serious? Term starts tomorrow! I really should be angry with you.”

“Do me a favour Rachel! It’s a bit late to re-style yourself power bitch, manager from hell. We have an understanding, don‘t we?”

Smiling to herself, Rachel selected a double espresso.  “Do we?…What understanding is that then? You take the piss and I let you?”

Mel laughed loudly. “Not quite… but basically…well yes… That’s pretty much how it is…But I think my results speak for themselves. You know how I can‘t bear to be confined by structures and routines.”

“Don’t start all that ‘my lectures are organic’ nonsense again. Let’s try and stay within the bounds of reality this term, shall we.”

She shrugged and returned her attention to the file on her desk. “Fine with me boss. Now please stop interrupting me. Can’t you see I’m very busy and important?”

Smiling, Rachel perched on the desk beside her. “For what it’s worth, I’m very impressed that you’re here this early.”

“I know…Good isn’t it…I’m going to come in at this time every day this semester.”

“Of course you are,” Rachel said, hoping she didn’t sound as unconvinced, as she actually was. “You look amazing by the way.”

 Mel was still sporting a healthy tan from her fortnight in Marbella and her brown hair was sun-bleached with flecks of gold. She wore new designer specs and her hair had been expertly cut in a sharp bob. She was an attractive woman, with large hazel eyes and an olive complexion, and appeared much younger than her thirty-five years.  Highly motivated by celebrity culture, Mel wouldn’t be seen in anything less than designer gear, although how she managed it on a lecturer salary, Rachel had no idea. Today she was wearing a white Ralph Lauren blouse, Prada jeans and a pair of Jimmy Choos. Clearly pleased with the complement, she smiled coyly. “Shit Rachel! You don’t fancy me do you?”

Rachel almost dropped her coffee. “No! I bloody well don’t.”

“It’s okay if you do. I wouldn’t be offended. It’s not that I’m against the idea of sleeping with a woman per se. It’s just that I think it could ruin our friendship… and you know…it could make things really awkward at work.”

“Mel… I don’t fancy you.”

Mel maintained a straight face momentarily and then roared with laughter. “I know that, you silly cow! I’m just playing with you…Bloody hell… Lesbians are so easy to wind up.”

“Right! That’s it. I’m going to my office.”

“No Rach! Don’t go…I’m sorry… I promise to behave.”

“Mel…You’re such an idiot.” Rachel was laughing in spite of herself.

Mel frowned. “You’re very skinny Rachel. Have you lost weight again?”

Rachel glanced briefly at the mirror on the far wall of the common room. She had lost weight. Her pale jeans barely clung to her hips, and suddenly it seemed that her sweater was drowning her. She was pale too, causing her brown eyes to appear almost black. At least her hair looked okay. Calling at the salon the previous day had been a good idea. He had cut it shorter than usual, in an edgy style with uneven, choppy layers. It framed her face nicely. As always he had wanted to “do something” with the colour, but Rachel loved the intense blackness of her hair.

She shrugged. “Maybe I have lost a little weight… It isn’t deliberate. I’m just training really hard.”

Mel’s sunny expression was momentarily swallowed up into a frown. “You are eating though, aren't you? You know, you’ve lost loads of weight since…” she stopped herself suddenly. “…since last Summer.”

Rachel knew what she was alluding to, but it was too early in the day to get on to that subject and instead she laid a reassuring hand on her friend’s arm. “I’m fine Mel…Please don’t worry about me.” She stood up slowly. “I really do have to do some work now…I’ve so much to do before the new intake start tomorrow.”

“Tell me about it…Hey…Haven’t you got a race tonight?”

Rachel sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yep… It’s the Harrop Hill Trail Race.”

Mel shook her head. “I can’t believe you actually run up that thing. I can’t even walk up it.”

“You should try it…It’s fun.”

“No thanks! It isn’t fun…It’s madness… Anyway, I’m coming to watch you.”

“Are you? Why?”

Mel returned her attention to her work. “Can‘t I come and cheer my best friend on?”

“Of course… If you like.”  But she could tell by the way that Mel was avoiding eye contact that she was up to something.

Chapter Two

Harrop Hill was the highest peak in the county. At just over 1800 feet, it wasn’t quite a mountain, but it was lofty enough to present a serious challenge to even the fittest runner. With its twisting gravel paths, killer climbs and breakneck descents through rutted fields it was a pretty daunting prospect. So it seemed odd that this race was among the most popular in the region, but in spite of it’s reputation, every year the serious runners turned up in their hundreds. Perhaps it was due to the sheer beauty of the place. Harrop rose from the urban sprawl of Greater Manchester like a verdant wave of forest and pasture. A patchwork of farmland criss-crossed its eastern slopes, whilst the west and north faces were flush with pine forest. The south face, was a silver slice of granite, once quarried but now protected parkland, used only by adventurous climbers and other rare wildlife. Consequently, the Harrop Hill 10k regularly drew in a field of over a thousand competitors and, judging from the crowds amassing at the registration desks, Rachel guessed that tonight was no exception. Apparently the unseasonal heat and pressing humidity hadn’t deterred anybody and the Hare and Hounds Pub, where the race was traditionally run from, was thronging with nervous looking runners.

Rachel climbed from her car and stepped out on to the busy lane. She quickly scanned the crowds, searching for the yellow vest of her main rival, Jodi Samuels.  For now at least, she was nowhere in sight, but Rachel knew she must be here somewhere.

“Rachel!”  She turned sharply to see Steven, her friend and occasional training partner, crossing the narrow lane toward her.  “Nice night for it!”

A former rugby player, Steven was a well-built guy and stood at around 6ft 4. He had an open, smiley face and Rachel supposed he was cute, in an untidy kind of way. If he ever took a shave or combed his hair, he might even be handsome.

“Hey Steven!” Rachel was genuinely pleased to see him. “I didn’t know you were racing tonight!”

“Are you kidding?” he enthused. “I wouldn’t miss this one for the world.”

“Are you being sarcastic?…I can never tell.”

He laughed as he brushed the mop of dark hair away from his eyes. “I’m quite serious. I love this race… and so do you.”

Rachel grimaced and stared past him at the narrow path, twisting up and out of sight into the trees toward the summit. “I can assure you,” she sighed. “I don’t love it… But Mike says it will make me strong.”

Steven nodded approvingly, before looking her up and down. “Well…Mike knows what he’s talking about, but you look strong enough to me. I hear you’ve been racing well too.”

Rachel felt her face flushed slightly. “Thanks. I’ve been okay.”

“Okay?” he laughed. “Didn’t you win the Lancashire Half Marathon two weeks ago?”

She chewed her lip awkwardly. “Yes.”

He smiled at her, his large brown eyes twinkling in the evening sunshine and she squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. “Anyway…” she said, happy to move the subject on. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you at training lately.”

“No,” he replied, “I’ve been a bit busy.” She was about to ask him doing what exactly, when suddenly she spied the familiar yellow vest of Jodi Samuels on the far side of the road. She was leaning against a tree and stretching her worryingly massive calf muscles. Her blonde hair had been pulled back in a loose pony-tail and her skin was a rich, bronze colour; no doubt from hours of training in the sunshine. She had tied her running vest in a high knot; exposing a ridiculously tight waistline and a perfect six pack.

“Bugger!” Rachel cursed to nobody in particular.

“What is it?” Steven asked, spinning around and spotting Jodi’s backside as she doubled over to warm up a hamstring. “Oh,” he laughed, with immediate understanding. “That!... guess you can kiss goodbye to first place then.”

Rachel punched him lightly on the arm and frowned. “Don’t write me off so fast Mr! As you said, I’ve been running well.”

He continued to watch Jodi’s bottom, as she pulled her toes skyward in what appeared to be a physically impossible manoeuvre. “That may be true Rachel,” he sighed, “but unless you’ve brought your bike with you, I’d settle for second tonight.”

“Piss off Steve. I need positivity. Stop poisoning me with your negative vibes.”

He roared with laughter then and before she could stop herself, she was laughing along with him.

“What’s so funny?” It was Mel. She looked fabulous; as she tottered toward them in her flowing, white summer dress, wide floppy hat and impossibly large sunglasses. The neck-line of her dress was obscenely low-cut and the effect, in combination with the nuclear-strength push up bra she wore, was quite devastating.

“Bloody hell!” Rachel said, still convulsing with laughter. “Where did you come from; the Royal Wedding?”

Mel beamed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“So you should...and before you ask, no, I don’t fancy you.”

Steven stared at Mel, as if seeing her for the first time and Rachel jabbed him with her elbow. “Okay. You can close your mouth now Steve.”

He shook his head and blushed. “Oh...sorry...I didn’t mean to...er...I just...”

“It’s okay Steven,” Mel said, with a devilish grin. “You’re only human.”

Steven blinked about twenty times in quick succession and Rachel thought he might just keel over. “Right,” she said abruptly. “Enough of this nonsense...I’m going to warm up. Are you coming?”

Steven continued to stare at Mel and when he replied, his voice was faint. “Er...I still have to register.”

“Okay,” Rachel sighed, feeling slightly nonplussed. “I’ll see you at the start,”  and she jogged gently in the direction of the trail. She still had time for a few interval sessions to familiarise herself with the gradient and then she would stretch and go to the start line.

As she rounded the corner and began to climb the trail, Rachel reflected on the presence of Jodi Samuels; her nemesis. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing that she was here. Rachel had to face her at some point before the championships, but equally she knew that the county cross country champion would be very hard to beat. She was ten years younger than Rachel for a start and probably a stone lighter. Rachel often told herself that 35 wasn’t old for a runner and she was actually in her prime, but when she had to race younger women, particularly in races like this, where speed endurance was everything, she felt old and slow.  Rachel knew she was a good runner, but she strongly suspected that Jodi was better and, deep down, she just didn’t believe that she would ever beat her, no matter how hard she trained.

Rachel counted down from ten and then increased her pace, striding out strongly and pushing hard up the dusty track. It was steeper than she remembered and before she knew it, her breath was short and ragged. A minute later she slowed to a gentle pace and began her recovery, breathing deeply and concentrating on relaxing her shoulders. After another 30 seconds, she picked the pace up again, and forced herself to sprint the trail, lengthening her stride and driving with her arms. After a minute, she slowed and turned around to head back down again. Repeating this process three more times should be sufficient. Then she could return to the start line, to stretch and mentally prepare.

But as she was nearing the bottom, a woman rounded the corner and began heading toward her. Rachel glanced up and in an instant, registered every detail. She was tall, probably in her early thirties, with closely cut, blonde hair and an even, tanned complexion. Lean and athletic, her well-muscled body glistened with a light sheen of perspiration. Rachel knew most of the runners at these events, but she had never seen this woman before. She certainly would have remembered.

Rachel felt it instantly, that all too familiar heat somewhere in the pit of her stomach. She had almost forgotten how it felt.  And as the woman moved closer, running smoothly and with a practiced style, Rachel tried not to stare, but as the distance between them lessened, she couldn’t resist looking again. She tried to be subtle, but the newcomer caught her watching as they passed within inches of one another and appeared to hold her gaze a moment longer than was necessary, before eventually smiling. Her large eyes were the deepest blue Rachel had ever seen and as she dashed by, a pleasing aroma of lemon and flowers drifted with her.

Rachel looked away quickly, feeling her cheeks burn.

“Shit,” she cursed quietly and instead of turning to head back up the hill to complete her warm up, she instead continued downward and headed back toward the start.

Chapter Three

When Rachel finally arrived at the pub, Mike was waiting for her. He looked worried.

“Evening Love,” he said, his accent as thick as treacle. “Jodi Samuels is here.” Rachel had momentarily forgotten, but the recollection caused her stomach to squirm all over again.

“I know. I’ve seen her.”

“Alright...Don’t panic about it...This is what I want you to do.”

Mike was Rachel’s running coach, but he was also the senior coach at her running club, the Stanley Striders. He’d been head coach for twenty years, and before that had worked on the GB squad, training middle distance athletes. Now in his late sixties, he was only prepared to work with a select few athletes and Rachel was fortunate enough to be one of them. A big, bear of a man, Mike had a swarthy, weather beaten complexion and a completely bald head. He was a straight talking, no-nonsense northerner, with little regard for political correctness or people’s feelings. He said it like he saw it, and he expected his athletes to train hard and do as he told them. He was pretty fierce in his own way.

He laid a rough hand on her shoulder. “I just want you to sit in tight behind her. Let her drive the first hill. Leave her to it. When you start to head down over Parfold, pass her, but don’t pick it up too much. You’re going to need something for the finish. When you begin that second climb, let her pass you again, but go with her. Don’t let her drop you, or you’ll never get back on. Just sit in tight behind her. Let the bugger know you’re there...scare her a bit...and when it flattens out at the summit, I want you to take her on. Give it everything you’ve got....  I know she’s fast, but you’re stronger then she is and I think you can beat her. When you start dropping back down, she’s going to have a go and she might catch you there, but you’re going to have to dig in and really rip it up... Right up to the finish. Are you with me?”

Rachel nodded and swallowed hard. Her pulse throbbed unpleasantly in her throat and she felt the adrenalin beginning to course through her body.

“How are you feeling?” Mike asked, studying Rachel through narrowed eyes.

“As if I might throw up,” she mumbled.

“Good...” he said, with a booming laugh. “That’s nerves…and it shows you care.” He crossed his arms across his broad chest and nodded at her. “Right... Go on then...Have a good run. I’ll see you at the finish.”

She turned away from him and trotted slowly toward the melee of excited runners and spectators, now gathering on the start-line.

***

The moment the siren blared, Rachel sprang forward, surging and tussling with the mob. She could see Jodi Samuels just a few metres ahead and, doing exactly as Mike had instructed, she jostled into position right behind her.

The first mile of this race was generally considered to be one of the most difficult in the North of England.  Following a rocky trail, the route climbed steeply upward on a meandering path for about 1600 unrelenting feet. There was no respite at all from the gradient. It simply climbed up and up until you could almost touch the summit, before sharply dropping down again. For the second mile, the runners faced a breakneck descent through uneven fields, only broken occasionally by a fence or a low stone wall, which had to be crossed one way or another. By mile three, the path was climbing back again on a narrow trail through a gorge and it continued that way for the next two miles until the summit was finally reached. The last mile was a crazy roller coaster dive down a rocky path, which poured down the hillside at a terrifying angle. Such was the danger, it was a mystery to everyone who took part in the event, how it continued to be granted a racing permit year after year.

Breathing hard, Rachel struggled to shadow Jodi Samuels as she tripped up the hillside with apparent ease, immediately taking the lead. For now at least she was matching her stride for stride, but it wasn’t easy. Jodi was hitting the pace hard and that, combined with the steepness of the ascent and the soaring temperature, was a problem.

Half a mile in and Rachel’s legs were screaming. She checked her watch quickly. As she suspected, the pace was intense, which was no doubt why she felt so bad. The path continued to climb steeply, winding its way through trees and between exposed rocks in the hillside. The pressure was mounting across Rachel’s chest and shoulders as she struggled to drive with her arms, focusing all the while on the figure of Jodi, no more than three metres ahead of her. She had no doubt that Jodi was aware of her presence, which was probably why she had started so quickly. She was trying to shake Rachel off and build up a bit of a lead before they hit the first descent. Rachel couldn’t let that happen. The second Jodi started to pull away, the race would be over. Gritting her teeth, Rachel managed to find more power from somewhere, and she marginally closed the gap on her adversary.

Unexpectedly, the runner alongside Rachel stumbled over a rock and crashed heavily to the ground. Rachel jumped sideways, just in time to get out of his way, as he spilled across the path. She couldn’t stop but, glancing back briefly, she saw him struggling back to his feet, both his knees grazed and bloody from the fall.

She pressed on, trying to steady her breathing, all the while mentally counting her strides. The trail was starting to flatten out a little, which must mean they were nearing the top of the first climb. As the gradient lessened, Rachel felt the strength returning to her legs and it was suddenly easier to breathe.  She glanced at Jodi and knew instantly that she was tiring. Her shoulders were tight and the back of her neck, just visible under her ponytail was scarlet with the effort of climbing. The knowledge that her old enemy was possibly in bad shape gave Rachel a boost and the next twenty paces felt easy as she crested the summit and drew alongside her rival, holding her pace easily, as the path began to descend.

Rachel saw Jodi glance sideways and it was clear from her expression that she hadn’t expected to see her.

Following Mike’s advice, she picked up the pace again and moved ahead of Jodi, enjoying the respite as the trail dropped sharply down and opened out into a field.

Rachel felt fantastic. The air was fresh and invigorating and way up here, the views across the undulating landscape of Lancashire were awesome. She was moving fast and yet she felt like she could run like this forever.

Rachel held the pace solidly for the next mile as the race crossed Par fold meadow and when she arrived at the first stile, she leapt over it easily, landing comfortably at the other side and barely breaking her stride.

She pressed on into the next field, listening carefully for the sound of Jodi’s footfalls behind her, but there was nothing at all. She must have dropped her behind. Clearly the months of training since Helen left were beginning to pay off. 

Helen.

The memory of her ex dropped on Rachel like a stone.

Turning sharply onto another trail, Rachel suddenly noticed how warm it had become. September in England was usually cool and damp. But for some reason things had been different this year and the weather had been hot and dry since July. Tonight was no exception. Her cheeks burned and rivulets of sweat ran down the side of her face and neck.

And now the path was climbing again.

The angle seemed impossibly steep and Rachel felt the power drain out of her, like a failing engine without fuel, and she struggled to put one foot in front of the other. Again she forced herself to concentrate, trying to ignore the mounting discomfort the ascent was racking up in her every sinew.

She really shouldn’t think about Helen when she was racing. It made her feel bad. But it was too late. The idea was in her head and just like clockwork, she found herself slowing down. The instant her foot came off the gas, Rachel heard the inevitable footsteps approaching from behind her. A second later and just as she knew she would, Jodi came bouncing past, apparently refreshed from the downhill stretch and looking like she could run forever. Rachel on the other hand, felt like she might throw up. Willing herself on, she forced herself to follow Jodi up the hill, concentrating on matching her stride and telling herself over and over that she could bear it; if she could make it to the top and go past Jodi, she might win this damned race. Mike believed in her. She just had to believe in herself.

The climb seemed to go on forever, twisting and turning and relentlessly moving up and up. Then, just when she was beginning to lose all faith, the trail levelled out again. They were nearing the final summit. And Again Rachel could see the effort of climbing was taking its toll on Jodi. She was slowing down, whereas Rachel was beginning to feel her strength returning. 

They followed the trail over the top of Harrop Hill and with every stride Rachel was closing the gap. Finally summoning her last resource of energy, she surged past Jodi, but Jodi was recovering and as they headed into the final descent, she knew this would be a race all the way to the finish.

 They hit the final field at full pace, Rachel just ahead, with Jodi right behind. The trail now ripped across the middle of another field, this one strewn with boulders and fallen tree trunks. The velocity was terrifying, exaggerated by the precipitous angle, and both women were leaning forward dangerously, unwilling to hold anything back.

Suddenly Rachel could see the finish, where a crowd of people was gathered around an inflatable archway with two lines of tape on either side. In the distance she could just make out Mike. He was right by the finish, shouting and waving his arms.

And she was holding the lead.

Jodi was hard on her heels, but Rachel was winning and at that moment she knew she could do it. As she tore up the ground, her arms and legs moving smoothly and powerfully, she realised that, at least for today, she was better than Jodi. If she just kept her head for the last half-mile, she was going to win this race.  With that knowledge, Rachel unexpectedly found another gear and a whole new energy flooded her body. Much to her amazement, Rachel began opening up a gap, and it was widening by the second. Accelerating, she dropped sharply into a small valley and, unable to stop herself, she turned briefly to glance over her shoulder. Jodi was almost five metres back and falling further behind all the time.

And then it happened.

Rachel turned around just in time to see the fallen tree trunk, which lay right across the centre of the trail. She jumped at the last moment, but it was too late. Both feet caught on the thick branch and before she knew what was happening, she was falling.

Chapter Four

Rachel seemed to hang for a moment in the air and in that split second two ideas crossed her mind. The first was Helen. Her lovely face shimmered briefly in Rachel’s mind, fixed at the very same expression from the day that she left.

Secondly, Rachel thought about the race and how she had just lost it.

She hit the ground hard, her right knee and left hand taking much of the impact. Smashing into something solid, she rolled over sideways, gasping as a hot searing pain travelled up her arm. She tumbled forwards and, unable to stop herself, she saw the huge boulder she was approaching at an impossible velocity. Completely powerless, she braced herself before colliding with it at full speed, first her shoulder and then her head. Winded and momentarily paralysed with the pain of the impact, she finally came to a stop lying on her back. She looked up, just in time to see Jodi Samuels leap over the fallen tree and sprint down the hillside without giving her a second glance. Watching her rival race for the finish, Rachel lay on the ground, unable to move, as a steady stream of runners began to pass by in a blur.  

Something hot and sticky was running down her face, and she automatically reached up to touch it, but as she did, a hot spasm of pain seared up her arm and into her shoulder. She cried out and, using her other hand, grabbed her wrist, holding it against her body to try and reduce the discomfort. She thought for a moment she might pass out and closed her eyes as a wave of nausea welled up inside her.

She had no idea how long she had laid there in that position. It could have been hours or minutes. She simply lay where she was, trying to block out the awful throbbing in her arm and breathing deeply to try and push away the sickness. After what seemed an eternity, she was vaguely aware of soft footfalls heading toward her. Next a cool hand rested on her forehead and a woman spoke.

“Hey! HEY! Are you conscious? Can you hear me?”

Rachel didn’t recognise the voice.  She forced open her eyes and found herself looking directly into the face of the woman she had seen warming up before the race. Wide blue eyes gazed down at her, creased at the corners with concern. Her full mouth was drawn into a worried line. Seeing Rachel stir into life, the woman’s lips parted into a smile and she visibly relaxed. “That’s better,” she breathed.

Rachel struggled to sit up, but the woman laid a firm hand on her shoulder and held her down. “Don’t try and move...Not yet....Tell me where you’re in pain?”

Rachel tried to think. She was still dazed.

“Who… who are you?” she managed to mumble.

“Don’t worry about that now….Just tell me….are you hurt?” and she glanced down to where Rachel was holding her wrist tightly.  Oddly, even in this uncommon situation, Rachel felt reassured by the stranger’s presence and made no attempt to resist as she looped one arm around her back to steady her, reaching down with the other to take her arm.

The pain was fantastic and she cried out before she could stop herself.

The woman’s smile faded and she chewed her lip anxiously. “Sorry about that. Let me just have a quick look…. I promise to be gentle.”

With expert care, she cradled Rachel’s arm and turned it over delicately, causing her to feel a little faint. “Are…are you …a paramedic or something?”

“Mmm… I hate to tell you this, but I think you’ve broken your wrist.”

“Oh shit… No way…”

“And you are probably going to need treatment for that cut… It looks pretty deep. “ She pointed up to her forehead and suddenly Rachel was aware of the dull pounding just above her right eye.

“Great.”

The woman’s smile was unconvincing. “Other than that…I think you should be okay.”

 “I …I can’t…bloody believe it!” Before Rachel could stop herself, the tears started. “I…was …. winning!”

The stranger looked mildy embarrassed. “I know. Really bad luck that.”

Rachel didn’t respond, she just slouched against her unlikely saviour and let the tears run down her face.

“You need to go to the hospital…Would you like me to drive you?...It’s no trouble…I’m going that way anyway.”

Rachel looked up at her. Who was this woman, who had suddenly appeared from nowhere to help her? She held Rachel’s gaze with her cool blue eyes.

Suddenly a gruff voice shattered the moment.” RACHEL! RACHEL…ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

She turned to see the familiar figure of Mike hobbling up the hillside towards them. Steven was beside him; his vest saturated with sweat and, following close behind, Mel tottered awkwardly on bare feet, a killer heel in each hand.

The woman studied the approaching group with some amusement. “Oh look,” she said mildly. “The cavalry has arrived.”

Chapter Five

She opened her eyes, as Mike’s car jolted to a sudden halt.

Her stomach convulsed with nausea and for a moment she felt disorientated. Breathing in deeply she waited for the sickness to pass, but even as it subsided a little she still wasn’t quite sure where she was. Sitting up in the passenger seat and peering out of the car window, she was surprised to see that they had pulled up outside her apartment. She must have fallen asleep. 

A heavy headache suddenly brought it all back and, sighing, she glanced down at the blue cast that now encased her arm. 

“I hope you’re not feeling sorry for yourself.” She turned to see Mike peering at her through narrowed eyes.

“Well, what if I am? “ she snapped irritably. “I think I’m entitled.”

“Oh you do, do you?” he bit back. “and why’s that then?”

“Because …I just do…”

“Listen Rachel… It’s only a broken wrist and a bit of glue… It’s not the end of the bloody world you know…”

“I know that!” Rachel said, feeling immediately ashamed that she had barked at Mike like that. After all he had driven her to the hospital, waited while they treated her and then brought her home.  He didn’t deserve attitude right now. “I’m sorry Mike… I just feel a bit…disappointed.”

His expression softened. “I know love…  You’re bound to be… But trust me; you’ve nothing to feel disappointed about.”

Rachel frowned and looked away. “But…I lost the race…and I was winning.”

Mike touched her shoulder gently and she turned back to find his eyes gleaming with excitement. “I know!...You were winning!… And that’s bloody brilliant! The only reason you didn’t beat Jodi tonight was because you fell…and that was a bloody daft thing to do, but I suppose you couldn’t help it…. You should have beaten her tonight… You were miles better than her!”

Rachel felt her chest swell a little. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so, love.”

Rachel smiled and winced as the glue on her wounded forehead pulled a little. “Thanks Mike.”

“That is the best I have ever seen you run…For the first time tonight I saw a glimpse of the runner I know you can be… the British Mountain Championship is in a few months… and if you keep improving the way you have done this summer… I think you‘re going to win it!”

“Come on Mike! I’m not good enough for that.”

“You are good enough! I wouldn’t say it, if it wasn’t true…. Who won last year?”

Rachel shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “…Er….Jodi Samuels?”

“Exactly!” His expression was triumphant.

For a moment Rachel couldn’t speak. She simply gazed out of the window, not seeing anything; lost in an imagined world of what might be. Then a nasty thought occurred to her. “But hang on Mike…What about this?” She held up her wrist, trying to ignore the burning pain that accompanied the movement.

Mike shrugged nonchalantly. “It won’t stop you training, although you should probably have a couple of days off… But you won’t be able to compete properly with that thing on… So you need to make sure the cast is off before the championships. “

She swallowed and nodded slowly. “Okay,” she muttered.

“So go on then…go in and get some rest… Ring me if you need anything. “

 Rachel smiled warmly and squeezed Mike’s rough, old hand. “I’ll be fine Mike…Thanks very much for tonight.”

She clambered awkwardly from the car and trudged painfully toward the house. It was only as she was crossing the courtyard that she suddenly remembered those big eyes gazing down at her.

Who was that gorgeous woman?

And more importantly, why hadn’t she taken her number?

Making slow progress up the steps toward the front door, Rachel allowed her mind to linger over the memory. About 5ft 8, she had the chiselled look of an athlete. Her body was perfectly toned and she moved with easy grace. But her most distinctive feature by far were the eyes; startlingly bright and piercing. Savouring every detail, Rachel recalled the moment the woman had placed an arm around her; the recollection caused her stomach to tremble slightly with excitement. 

With Mike, Steven and Mel fluttering around her, Rachel didn’t notice the woman slipping quietly away, but she must have done, because when Rachel looked for her again, she had vanished almost as quickly as she appeared.

“Bloody typical,” Rachel reflected ruefully, struggling unsuccessfully to jam the key in the old Chubb lock. Not that any of this really mattered. She hadn’t looked especially appealing, sprawled all over the ground, covered in mud, bleeding and crying.

It was all rather embarrassing really.

Having finally forced open the front door, Rachel traipsed along the gloomy corridor, toward her apartment, but when she got there, she instantly froze; her door was slightly ajar. Vaguely aware that her pulse was banging in her ears and still rooted to the spot, she listened keenly for some sound out of the ordinary. She couldn’t actually remember locking the door, but she always did it as a matter of course. Still, the catch wasn’t completely reliable and she had been rushing. It wouldn’t be the first time it had swung open entirely of its own accord.

Stepping forward gingerly, she peered around the door and into the hallway. It was dark, but a small puddle of light spilled into the passageway from the sitting room, illuminating the way just enough for her to sneak inside safely.

“Hello?” she murmured half-heartedly, wondering if it was wise to announce her arrival. For all she knew, that might be an escaped lunatic waiting for her in the shadows, wielding an axe in one hand and the severed head of his unfortunate victim in the other. There was no response and the apartment remained silent and still.

“Hello?” she tried again, this time with greater purpose, and now she was answered by the distinct sound of movement from the sitting room. She listened with increasing panic, as someone she couldn’t see crossed the room towards her, their footsteps clicking ominously on the wooden floorboards. Rachel couldn’t move. She barely even breathed as her eyes fixed firmly on the doorway ahead of her. A dark shape appeared, silhouetted in the opening and Rachel almost screamed. There was a sudden “snap” and the hallway was immediately flooded with light. A familiar figure stepped out of the shadows.

It was Helen.

Chapter 6

“Jesus Christ Helen!” she practically shrieked. “You scared me half to death. What the hell are you doing here?”

Helen smiled sheepishly and dangled a set of keys from one finger before her. Her dark eyes glistened in the intense light. “Sorry,” she said, with apparent sincerity. “I still have my keys. I didn’t think you’d mind. ”

Rachel glared at her ex-girlfriend, struggling to make sense of the questions bombarding her brain.  “I mind,” she said eventually, pushing past her and into the sitting room.

For the first time Helen seemed to register Rachel’s condition and she hurried after her. “Hey! What happened to you?…Are you okay?”

Rachel didn’t answer, but instead dropped her rucksack to the floor, before slumping onto the sofa. She determinedly refused to meet Helen’s gaze.

“Rachel?” she persisted, moving tentatively forward. “What happened?” Her voice sounded genuinely concerned.  “Are you injured?”

“It’s nothing,” Rachel mumbled, still looking at the floor. “I was racing and I fell. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Helen said, taking another step forward. “You look like you’ve broken your arm?”

Rachel looked up suddenly, pinning Helen to the spot with a fierce stare.

She looked oddly vulnerable, standing there, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, but Helen was still gorgeous. In pale ripped jeans and a red check shirt which seemed to cling to her figure in all the right places, she was even more attractive somehow than Rachel had remembered. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, exposing her features perfectly; wide, green eyes, surrounded by impossibly black lashes, perfectly shaped eyebrows, a sensuous mouth, enhanced with just the right amount of lipstick. Her olive complexion remained flawless. 

“Helen,” she said, struggling to sound calm. “Why are you here?… Is there something you want?”

Helen smiled kindly and gestured toward the sofa. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Actually, I do?” she said quickly,  “But you may as well now that you’re here.”

Helen perched clumsily at the end of the sofa. “Listen,” she began slowly,” I’m really sorry I startled you… I just came for my stuff… you know…the DVDs and the IPOD.”

Rachel leaned back and sighed. Her head was pounding worse than before and she felt nauseous again. “I could have posted them to you, “she said softly. “You’ve absolutely no right to just come waltzing in here. … You don’t live here anymore…remember!”

“I know that,” Helen replied, the colour rising in her cheeks. “I did notice when you threw me out.”

“Have you come here for an argument Helen, because if you have, you might as well leave now?”

She shook her head quickly. “No…I haven’t…That’s the last thing I want. Look, I’m sorry for barging in like this… I thought if I phoned first … you might not see me.”

Rachel struggled to retain her composure. “You were right.”

For a moment she stared at Rachel mutely and then her eyes wandered around the room. “I…I like what you’ve done with the place. The colour is nice.”

Rachel didn’t respond.

“I see you took all our pictures down.”

“They weren’t really our pictures Helen…they were yours…and you are quite welcome to have them back any time you like.”

Helen looked wounded. “Don’t be angry with me Rachel…I said I was sorry…I …I just wanted to see you…I miss you.”

Rachel could barely conceal her surprise and studied Helen’s face a moment. She looked sincere enough. In fact, she looked as if she might cry, which was a first. For a moment, Rachel was almost convinced, but then the memories flooded back; the feelings of betrayal and foolishness, the constant worry. The recollection stiffened her resolve.

“…And why is that Helen? … Did it not work out with Jo?”  Her tone was like ice.

Helen frowned, rubbing her bottom lip with her forefinger, the way she always did when she was anxious. “I can’t believe you still think that,” she mumbled, looking at the floor. “Nothing happened with Jo…” She looked up at Rachel, her face hard with determination. “Why won’t you believe me?”

Rachel was struggling to control her anger. “Because you lied to me… You’re still lying now. In fact, I really don’t want you here… I’d like you to leave…Now.”

Rachel stood up, but as she did, everything in the room seemed to slide. Nausea surged in her stomach and black stars danced crazily in front of her eyes. The next thing she knew, Helen was beside her, supporting her weight and guiding her toward the sofa. She eased her gently into the seat and then knelt down before her, studying her face intently. “Shit Rachel… You’re not well. You’re literally as white as a sheet.”

“I’m alright,” Rachel gasped, but her voice sounded anything but alright. It sounded hollow and distant, as if it were coming from somebody else.

“No you’re not…”Helen spoke firmly. “You fainted. I’ve never known you to faint before.” She stood purposefully, grabbing her car keys from the arm of the sofa before extending a hand to Rachel.

Rachel gazed at it, feeling a little dazed. “What? What do you want?”

“Come on… I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I’m not going to the hospital. I’ve just come from there.” But she was increasingly aware of how warm the room was becoming and how ill she felt.

Helen stared down at her, hands on her hips and a business-like expression on her face. “Listen to me…You’ve banged your head and now you’re fainting…. You might have a concussion. Do you feel sick? Have you got a headache?”

“No,” Rachel lied weakly. Actually she thought she might vomit at any second and her head felt as if a brass band had trampled all over it.

Helen rolled her eyes. “Rachel… You’ve always been a bad liar. Get up will you? We’re going back to the hospital and that’s the end of it.”

Chapter 7

“I don’t need you to wait here with me.” Stretched out on the bed, in the tiny cubicle at Accident and Emergency, Rachel felt trapped. On all sides, the flimsy, green curtains seemed to be closing in and the pungent odour of disinfectant was everywhere. The last thing she needed was Helen, fussing and stressing out.

“Really?” Helen said, looking disappointed. “I don’t mind staying with you.”

“Look…I appreciate you bringing me to the hospital… But I’d rather see the doctor on my own if you don’t mind. “

Helen shrugged and nodded her agreement reluctantly. “Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll be in the waiting room if you need me.”

Rachel watched Helen disappear between two curtains, before resting her head on the pillow and closing her eyes gratefully.

Somewhere in the hospital an instrument was bleeping a slow, hypnotic rhythm. The ward was warm and the gurney, surprisingly comfortable. Rachel began to drift.

Slowly the room was engulfed in darkness, aside from cool moonlight, which trickled in through a window and pooled on the marble floors.

Turning over in the sumptuous bed, Rachel watched the white chiffon drapes stir in a warm, Mediterranean breeze. 

“Are you coming in?” she asked contentedly. “I feel a bit lost in this bed on my own.”

From somewhere outside, Helen’s voice floated in. “Just a second darling. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Rachel woke from the dream with a start. For a moment she felt disorientated and unsure where she was, but then the sterile lighting and faint electrical bleeps and clicks, brought her around. She had been dreaming again...of France. The memory of that night remained annoyingly vivid and she hurriedly suppressed it, disappointed that even now the reminiscence could cause her chest to ache in that horribly familiar way.    

Distracted by the sight of a Doctor’s whites emerging slowly through the gap in the curtains, Rachel waited and watched as the medic backed inside, murmuring instructions to a nurse somewhere out of sight. When she finally turned around, Rachel gasped, causing the Doctor to look up for the first time.

Their eyes locked together.

It was the woman from the race.

“Oh!” she said, clearly astonished, but smiling nonetheless. “It’s you again! What a coincidence.”

Suddenly Rachel couldn’t speak.

“I would ask how you are,” the Doctor continued chirpily, “but I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“I...er... I didn’t know you were a doctor,” she croaked. “You said you were a paramedic.”

“Did I?” she seemed amused. “I thought it was you who said that.” Her piercing eyes creased at the corners when she smiled.

“It’s really impressive,” Rachel heard herself saying. “...that you’re a doctor I mean. Not that being a paramedic isn’t impressive... I was impressed when I thought you were just a paramedic... I mean...er...” Realising how idiotic she sounded, she left the unfinished sentence dangling in the air.

The Doctor laughed, absently raking a hand through her pale hair. “Thanks ... It has its compensations.”

Rachel nodded numbly, resolving not to say anything else for the rest of her life. She was suddenly feeling very self-conscious. She hadn’t even brushed her hair and she had dried blood all over her once white t-shirt.

An uncomfortable silence descended on them and quickly, the doctor stepped forward with renewed purpose. “So” she began, suddenly serious. “What’s the problem? I can see from your notes that you’ve already been in once today.” She leaned across to scrutinise the wound on her head, moving her face only inches from Rachel’s own. “They did a nice job with that, didn’t they? Very neat work.” Hoping she wouldn’t notice, Rachel breathed in the woman’s scent. It was fresh and floral with just a hint of peppermint.

“I fainted,” Rachel said dismissively and then added, rather more abruptly than she had intended. “I never thanked you!” The doctor moved back in surprise. “For helping me I mean... You didn’t need to stop like that... It was very decent of you...And it must have ruined your race.”

She smiled kindly. “Oh...I’m not much of a runner really... Not like you anyway. I just enjoy it.” She reached up and gently touched the skin around the cut, causing Rachel to wince a little. “Oops...Sorry about that.  I suppose I don’t need to ask if it hurts... I only run to keep fit.” She stood upright again, still smiling. “Anyway. You don’t need to thank me. It was nothing.”

“It was to me,” Rachel said softly. “I would have said something earlier, but you left so quickly.”

The Doctor nodded and shrugged. “You seemed to be in pretty safe hands… and I had to get going…to start my shift.”

Rachel smiled in agreement. “That was my coach Mike... and two of my friends.”

“Right,” the woman said, still smiling benignly.

Rachel wondered why she was suddenly yammering like a neurotic schoolgirl.

“Anyway,” the Doctor continued firmly, fixing Rachel with a serious stare. “I should probably ask...You don’t mind me treating you do you?”

Rachel shook her head quickly. “No...Why would I?” It seemed an odd question.

“No reason,” the woman replied, and Rachel noticed that she too appeared to be a little flushed all of a sudden. 

***

“Dehydration and shock.”

Rachel studied the Doctor closely. “You think that’s what’s wrong with me?”

“I’m pretty sure, but if you feel poorly again, come straight back. I’m going to prescribe you some salts...and you must drink plenty of water tonight.”

“But I’ve never fainted like that before.” Rachel said thoughtfully.

“Maybe not, but you did have quite a nasty fall...and it’s pretty warm out... It’s not so surprising.”

Rachel sighed. “So, I’m not having a brain haemorrhage?”

 The doctor chuckled, revealing a set of exceedingly white teeth. “Not right now.”

“That’s a relief.”

Turning away from Rachel, she leaned over a small desk and wrote something on the clipboard. “The cut on your head should heal very quickly. No need to come back for any treatment, unless you’re worried. The fracture clinic will contact you about your wrist. Do you need any painkillers?” she asked, still scribbling.

Rachel watched her, unable all of a sudden to tear her eyes from the doctor’s fingers, which were long and dexterous. “Oh...no thanks...I got some earlier.” She knew the consultation was almost over and wanted to prolong it, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. “Do you belong to a running club?”

The doctor stopped writing and gazed up at her. “Not here... I used to...back home... I haven’t lived here very long.”

“Oh?” Rachel knew she sounded pushy, but she couldn’t stop herself. “I run for Stanley Striders.” She remembered then that the club name and logo were emblazoned right across her chest.

“Really?” the Doctor said politely, returning her attention to the prescription, her mouth twitching into a smile.

“Yes,” Rachel mumbled, scratching the dried blood from her shirt. “So...If you’re looking for a club to train with...You could do a lot worse.”   

Standing up to her full height, she turned to face Rachel, one eyebrow arched quizzically. “Really?”

“Yes,” Rachel said, with a little too much enthusiasm. “We train every day, but the main sessions are Mondays and Thursdays at 6.30pm, oh...and Saturday mornings at nine... We meet at the White Lion Pub.”

Again she seemed surprised. “The White Lion...In Parswood?”

Rachel nodded enthusiastically. “That’s the one... You know it then?”

Leaning against the wall and narrowing her eyes thoughtfully, the Doctor nodded. “I should do...I live very near there.” 

Rachel squeaked. “So do I!”

The Doctor grinned and for a moment neither of them spoke. Instead, they studied one another from either end of the cubicle, their attention fixed and intense. Suddenly Rachel felt pleasantly warm, but she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the room temperature. Eventually she broke the silence, her voice sounding tentative and strange. “...So...if you do fancy it...Training with us I mean...You could call me...Or text me...if you like.”

For a moment the Doctor made no reply, but continued to scrutinise Rachel deeply, causing her to wonder if maybe she’d taken it a step too far. Then finally she nodded, just once, before flipping round the chart and pointing to a telephone number scrawled in the top right hand corner. “Is this a good number to get hold of you?”

Rachel nodded numbly and smiled. “Yes...that’s fine...” and then feeling an unexpected wave of boldness she added, “Do you have a name?”

Now it was the Doctor’s turn to blush under Rachel’s unflinching gaze. “I do,” she muttered almost inaudibly. “It’s... Alison...but everyone calls me Ali.” She extended a hand in greeting.

Rachel took her hand and found the contact pleasantly warm and soft.  “Hi Ali,” she murmured.

“Hi,” Ali replied, still holding her hand. “You might think this is a little unethical, but I wonder if I might ask you something…”

And at that precise moment, Helen walked in.  

Chapter Eight

“I can’t believe you did that!” Rachel snarled, striding along the corridor, toward the exit.

Helen scurried alongside her, struggling to match the pace. “What? What did I do?”

Rachel was so annoyed that she couldn’t reply. She sighed irritably, mentally going over the sequence of events following Helen’s untimely appearance.

Alarmed by the intrusion, Ali had dropped Rachel’s hand instantly. “Can I help you?” she asked, with acute disapproval. Unabashed, Helen had smiled her most winning smile, crossing the small space to stand beside Rachel, and then quite unbelievably, slipped an arm around her shoulder.

Rachel had been so shocked that she couldn’t speak.

“Sorry to just barge in,” she said, sounding anything but sorry. “How is she, Doctor? Nothing serious I hope.”

“Helen?” Rachel hissed, glaring at her ex and willing her to disappear.

Ali had stepped back slowly, shifting her gaze from Helen to Rachel, evidently making a quick evaluation of this new development. For a brief second her expression was cold and then she smiled. But it wasn’t the warm smile she had shared with Rachel earlier. It was cool, and distant.

“She’ll be fine,” she said curtly, ripping a prescription from the pad on her clipboard and offering it to Rachel.  Rachel glared at Helen, still unable to speak and took the proffered document.

Ali fixed her with a serious look. “Don’t forget what I said Rachel,” she said lightly. “Plenty of fluids.” And with that, she turned and was gone.

Bursting through the exit, Rachel skipped down the steps to the Car Park, with Helen following a couple of strides behind.

“Hey...Slow down will you...I’m sorry. Okay?”

Rachel continued quickly in the direction of the main road, where she hoped she might flag down a taxi and then stopped abruptly. She turned to face Helen, who immediately halted in her tracks. “Why did you do that?” she demanded furiously.

Helen shrugged. “What? What did I do?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “You can’t just walk in. Who the hell do you think you are?”

Helen appeared genuinely confused. “I was worried about you... I thought there was something wrong.”

“Helen!” Rachel gasped in exasperation. “Don’t you think all this is just a little bit late?”

Again Helen seemed bemused. “What?”

“This sudden concern!...I mean...Where have you been for the past ten months?...I haven’t seen you or heard from you!...At all...I’m still not really sure why you’re here now.”

“I told you,” she replied, shuffling awkwardly and looking to the ground. “I just called to get my stuff. I couldn’t just abandon you, when I saw how poorly you were.”

Rachel glared at Helen, considering her story. Evidently she wasn’t ready to admit the real purpose for her visit.

“Alright,” she groaned eventually, absently scratching the skin above her cast. “You can call for your things... But not tonight okay...and not tomorrow...I need a bit of...space. I’ll put it all in a bag for you. Call round on Saturday afternoon... not before noon okay, because I’m training.”

Helen smiled and nodded her agreement. “I look forward to it,” She said, still watching as Rachel disappeared across the car park.

Chapter Nine

When she woke the following morning, Ali was the first thing Rachel thought about; her intelligent, blue eyes and the manifest confidence in her every gesture. She might just be the most attractive woman Rachel had ever met, but after what had happened at the hospital, it seemed unlikely she would ever see her again.

Reaching across to the bedside table with her good hand, she retrieved her mobile phone and blinked at the screen groggily. To her surprise, a tiny “1” winked over the text message icon and with a small thrill she quickly navigated to the inbox, but it was only from Mel, telling her she would pick her up in half an hour.

Even though she knew it was silly, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed as she read the message. She hadn’t really expected to hear from Ali, but she’d been holding on to a glimmer of hope all the same. Suddenly aware of the time, Rachel threw down the handset and rolled wearily out of bed. She stumbled into the bathroom and checked her reflection in the mirror. An ugly, purple bruise had developed over her right eye and the skin was puffy and shiny. She scowled at the undeniably neat, but still hideous gash, where they had glued her skin back together.

“Bloody Frankenstein’s monster,” she groaned to nobody in particular.

She had the black rings of insomnia under each eye and her short hair was lank and unkempt. A little dried blood had congealed in her right eyebrow and she picked at it crossly, wishing she didn’t have to go to work.  She didn’t feel any better than she looked. Her arm was aching and her body felt heavy and tired.

Willing a shower to revive her, she struggled with one hand to pull off her shorts and vest and turned the jets to full blast, which by most people’s standards would probably be deemed a pathetic trickle. About to step under the water, a problem suddenly occurred to her. She glanced from the shower to her plastered wrist and then back to the shower again.

“Bloody bollocks,” she said and trundled out of the bathroom.

***

It was a little after eight when Mel finally drew up outside. Rachel heard her arrival before actually seeing her. The chugging, wheezy engine of her ancient mini was impossible to miss.

Rachel lumbered down the steps from the house and across the forecourt to the panting vehicle.

Mel peered up at her as she clambered into the passenger seat, apparently transfixed by Rachel’s beanie hat.

“Ok...” she said, forcing a smile. “That’s a new look for you.”

“Don’t take the piss Mel...I can’t wash my hair, can I!”

“Oh right,” Mel said, with a small chuckle, forcing the car into first gear. It stirred into life and with painful slowness and a worrying grating noise, kangarooed away from the pavement. “Haven’t you ever heard of a plastic bag?”

Ignoring Mel’s remark, Rachel scrutinised the moth-eaten interior of her car. “You know Mel...For someone who takes such care with their appearance...This is a really crap car...How did it pass it’s MOT?”

Mel looked affronted. “She always passes with flying colours... Anyway...don’t disrespect Barbra... She’s vintage.”

“Barbra?” Rachel asked, raising her eyebrows incredulously. “Your car is called Barbra?”

“Yes...” Mel said matter-of-factly, “After Barbra Streisand.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes!” Mel actually looked offended. “She’s my favourite diva.”

Rachel’s mind briefly drifted back to Mel’s inconsolable state when she had been unable to secure tickets for the last World Tour, and the weekend that followed; when she had listened over and over to “Evergreen” and watched “Funny Girl” twenty-seven times.

“A fact I’m painfully aware of ...but did you have to name a car after her?”

Mel nodded enthusiastically. “I name everything after her.”

Rachel studied her friend a moment through narrowed eyes. “Everything?” she asked.

“Everything!” Mel confirmed happily.

“So...” Rachel ventured, “Your house for example...”

“Is called Barbra!” Mel said proudly.

“And your cat...Mildred?” Rachel pressed.

“Mildred’s middle name is Barbra...”

“Your bicycle?”

“Barbra.”

“That new, Gucci handbag?”

“Also Barbra.”

Rachel considered this a moment, before suddenly turning on Mel triumphantly. “What about your vibrator?”

Mel gasped and pursed her lips coquettishly. “What makes you think I even have a vibrator?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. Everyone has a vibrator.”

Mel chewed her lip mischievously. “...If I did have a vibrator... and I wouldn’t tell you if I did, I would hardly give it a woman’s name. I would give it a strong, man’s name…like Elliot…or James.”

Rachel couldn’t help giggling.

 Mel eyed her suspiciously “Dirty cow.”

***

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully. Having no teaching commitment that day, Rachel spent the time locked in her office, trawling through the online library as she tried unsuccessfully to research an article for a periodical. Her mind kept drifting to the previous evening; the Doctor’s elegant hands and Helen’s inconvenient and confusing appearance. Every so often, she glanced to her phone, but as she expected, the message inbox remained frustratingly empty.

At twelve-thirty exactly, Mel’s head appeared around the door. “Is it lunch time yet?” she asked. Rachel leaned back in the chair, stifling a yawn and forcing her eyes open. "In fact, it's exactly lunchtime. You don't waste time, do you?"

Smiling, Mel scurried into the office. "I'm starving. Let’s go to the canteen."

Rachel climbed painfully from the chair, aware that Mel was watching her.

"Are you okay?" she asked with concern, "Because you look like shit…"

"Thanks very much."

"I just mean that you look tired and …a bit bedraggled."

"I actually feel a bit better," she said truthfully, following Mel out of the office. "I just really want to take a shower."

Mel eyed her suspiciously. " ...And the sooner the better, you smelly cow."

When they arrived, the refectory was buzzing with fresh-faced students. There were hundreds of them, milling about excitedly and queuing for food, so they fought their way through the crowds, eventually managing to purchase a sandwich each, before collapsing into an empty booth at the quieter end of the Hall.

"So…what’s new?" Mel asked, eyeing her tuna roll with some suspicion.

"What…you mean aside from falling down a mountain and breaking my wrist?"

Mel nodded, biting into the sandwich with surprising enthusiasm. Rachel hadn't been sure whether or not to share the previous evening's drama with Mel, but she was desperate to talk to somebody and she was her best friend, after all. "Well … actually…I do have a bit of gossip."

Mel's eyes widened to unfeasibly large proportions and she froze in mid chew. "Go on," she urged through a mouthful of bread and tuna.

"Guess who was waiting for me in my apartment when I got home last night?" She leaned over the table, as if to emphasise the significance of what she was about to impart.

Mel considered this a moment, hurriedly swallowing her food and shaking her head. "I don't know…Who? … Wait don't tell me…erm… Was it Ellen Degeneres?"

Rachel leaned back in the seat and for a moment could only stare skeptically at her friend. "Ellen Degeneres?... Why the hell would Ellen Degeneres be waiting for me in my apartment?"

Mel looked offended. "I don't know… It's not that unlikely."

"Don’t you think so?" Rachel gasped. "Why not?...Because we're both lesbians?... Mel that's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said."

"Ok then… K D Lang?"

Rachel's mouth dropped open. "K D Lang? Jesus Christ!" She rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. "Yes…it was…it was K D Lang…She was there with Martina Navratilova."

Mel narrowed her eyes before replying cautiously. "You're taking the piss now aren’t you?" but it was obvious that she wasn't entirely sure.

"Of course I am!" Rachel said, slapping her forehead with exasperation. "It wasn't a famous lesbian! ...Alright!"

Mel looked grievously disappointed.

"It was Helen…"

Instantly recovered, Mel leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially, "You’re joking…what the hell did she want?"

Rachel shrugged. "Apparently she wanted to collect some of her things."

"Bollocks,” Mel replied immediately.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Do you reckon she’s been dumped?”

The comment was made light-heartedly, but it stung just the same and Rachel glanced down at the surface of the table, hoping the pain didn’t show in her face.

Almost immediately, Mel reached out and grabbed her hand. “Oh bloody hell. I’m sorry Rach…that was a terrible thing to say…I’m such an idiot.”

“No…I’m sure that you’re right…” Rachel looked up and forced a smile. “She said that she missed me.”

Mel tilted her head and frowned. “It’s a bit bloody late for that isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Rachel agreed.

Mel folded her arms and pursed her lips. “Treacherous bitch…after all this time!”

“I know!” Rachel agreed, feeling slightly defeated.

Suddenly Mel’s manner was deadly serious and she fixed Rachel with a severe stare. “Please tell me you’re not thinking of taking her back!”

“I’m not!”

“Seriously Rachel…She treated you like shit…Carrying on like that behind your back.”

Rachel sighed. “She says she didn’t do anything.”

Mel half stood up in her seat. “She’s hardly going to admit it, is she?”

“I know!” Rachel said cringing. “Would you mind keeping your voice down?”

“Sorry,” Mel said, sitting back down and glancing about self-consciously. “But I mean,” she continued in a whisper, “…what’s she playing at?”

Rachel shrugged. “Who knows?”

“You can’t get back with her Rachel… I’ve made a vow to hate her forever…and I’ve said horrible things to you about her, and if you get back together it will be really awkward.”

Rachel sighed. “I’m not going to get back with her.”

“Besides,” Mel said, her face lighting up into a smile, “I was rather hopeful for you and that gorgeous woman who rescued you last night.”

Rachel felt her heart skip a beat, but tried to appear nonchalant. “Who do you mean?” she asked innocently.

Mel smiled incredulously. “Oh you mean you didn’t notice the goddess who saved your life when you decided to throw yourself at a tree?”

“Oh!... Her…” Rachel replied, feeling foolish.

“Yes… Her…”

She could feel Mel’s eyes boring into her and immediately the heat blazed in her cheeks.

“You liked her, didn’t you?” she said, her grin widening.

She met Mel’s gaze, forcing herself to appear indifferent. “Mel…How old are you…twelve? I had just smashed my head into a rock… I was hardly in a fit state to notice anything.”

Mel continued to grin and pointed a finger in her face. “I know you Rachel Ryder…you can’t lie to me. You liked her!”

 Rachel picked up her sandwich and rose slowly to her feet. “Ok…. I admit it. She was stunning…but that’s completely irrelevant. I’ll probably never see her again…anyway…I’ve got to get back to my office. If I don’t finish that spreadsheet for old Harrison today, he’ll call me in for supervision again, and frankly, I’d rather lick the floor of an abattoir.”

Mel frowned and with obvious reluctance, also climbed from her seat. “Okay,” she agreed. “I’ve got a lecture in twenty minutes anyway…Oh! By the way…are you training tonight?”

Rachel studied Mel suspiciously. “No…But I probably will be tomorrow morning…Why?”

“Oh…no reason?” she replied lightly. “…If you do go…Say hi to Steven for me.”

Rachel gazed at Mel a moment before half-heartedly, nodding her agreement.

 “Of course,” she sighed.

Chapter Ten.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here this morning.” Mike said, as she trotted over to join the group of runners limbering up outside The White Lion Pub. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

It was another beautiful morning of endless clear skies and pale, autumn sunshine. Rachel breathed the cool air into her lungs. 

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

A cursory inspection in the mirror that morning and a minute of jogging around her front room had revealed that her head, although bruised, was completely pain free and the dull ache in her wrist was bearable. With some tricky negotiation and a plastic bag she had finally managed to have a shower, luxuriating in a brief blast of hot water and scrubbing herself clean with every available toiletry product she owned, before the walls started clanking and the water reverted back to its customary tepid dribble. All in all, things were looking up. 

She scanned the group quickly. The familiar faces were all there; Paul, Jane, Dave, Mark, Suzy, Andy, Gill, Steven and a handful of other regulars. They were a diverse group, but uniformly lean and fit looking, in brightly coloured training gear.

“How’s your wrist?” Mike asked, a trace of caution in his voice.

“Better,” Rachel replied, feeling distracted as she looked through the group one by one, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t looking for Ali.

“Well, don’t go mad. You’ll have to be careful for a few days.”

Rachel turned her full attention to the coach, trying not to stare too hard at the ridiculous red bobble hat he had squeezed onto his rather large head. “I haven’t time to be careful Mike. The championship is only weeks away.”

He laid a hand heavily on her shoulder. His weatherworn face was serious, yet there was a twinkle of excitement in his grey eyes. “I know when it is love,” he said softly. “And you’re right...We’ve got a lot of work to do...But there’s no point bloody killing yourself. Just do as you’re told for once... for a few days at least.”

She sighed and shrugged, already feeling nervous at the prospect of facing Jodi Samuels again.

“Hey you!” Steven bounced across the car park, seeming very happy to see his friend alive and well. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better thanks. It wasn’t as serious as it looked.”

“Ok,” he replied, not looking entirely convinced. “Glad you made it anyway. Although why we feel the need to be up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday, I really don’t know.”

“It’s because we’re insane,” Rachel suggested. “Oh...by the way... Mel asked me to say hello to you,” She watched his reaction carefully.

He nodded, his eyes expanding briefly and a faint hint of pink crept into his cheeks. “...Did she?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly and rather foiling his efforts to sound casual. 

Rachel planted her hands on her hips firmly. “Steven...Is there something going on that I should know about?” She held his shifting gaze steadily.

Again, his eyes popped briefly, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound emerged. At that moment, they were interrupted as a Black Land Rover Defender, roared into the car park behind them. Its stereo thrummed heavily, disturbing the relative peace of the morning. Rachel whistled her approval as the sturdy 4x4 was steered expertly into a tiny space. The music died as the engine shut down and every eye was immediately trained on the vehicle, waiting to see who would emerge.

As the door clicked open, Rachel’s heart skipped a beat as a familiar, blonde head slowly surfaced over the roof of the car.

Ali turned to face them, her penetrating eyes sweeping across the group, before finally coming to rest on Rachel. Rachel stared back at her, speechless, her pulse pounding in her ears. For a long moment, their eyes held and then Ali looked away, bending down to lock her car.

Rachel hugged her arms about her, wishing she had made more of an effort with her hair.

Mike inspected the new arrival with obvious interest. “…Isn’t that the girl from the race?” he asked Rachel, without looking at her.

Rachel sighed, unable to stop herself following his gaze to the far end of the car park, where Ali was now removing her jacket, to reveal firm, tanned arms. “Yes….she’s a Doctor.”

Mike continued to watch her, a small grin on his papery lips. “Is she really? Good looking girl, isn’t she?”

Rachel tutted angrily and turned away. “I can’t say I’d noticed.”

***

With the group gathered around him, Mike gave his final instructions for the session. Rachel wasn’t listening. In fact, she was trying to make sense of a million questions that were bulldozing their way through her mind.

Why was Ali here? Why hadn’t she called to say she was coming? Why, having made the effort to come, had she completely ignored Rachel? Why did Rachel get a sharp pain in her stomach every time she looked at her?

Trying not to be too obvious, Rachel slowly glanced up again and was relieved to find Ali entirely focussed on Mike, nodding and absorbing each instruction as he gave it. She was wearing grey running shorts and a white, cotton vest, which looked amazing next to her dark skin and showed every, perfectly-toned sinew.

Rachel chewed her lip and looked back at the ground.

She had been so shocked to see Ali arrive that she’d been unable to speak when she walked right past her to introduce herself to Mike, only giving Rachel a cursory nod as she glided by.

Rachel eventually mustered the courage to speak, but as she stepped forward, Ali turned away and circled around to the back of the group who were slowly assembling to listen to the coach.

Now absorbed in her mental turmoil, Rachel didn’t notice when Mike began talking to her. 

“Rachel…RACHEL!...Are you listening?” Startled, she looked up quickly to find Mike glaring at her. The other runners watched with amusement.

“Yes coach,” she muttered weakly.

“You weren’t listening. You were bloody day dreaming.”  Rachel frowned at the reprimand, reminded of the way she had once felt, when her mother caught her sampling the gin from their drinks cabinet.

“I…was…just…saying… “ Mike slowly enunciated, adding to Rachel’s embarrassment, “I want you to go easy today. No intervals for you…I want you to run around the usual route…just one lap…and take the new lass with you…show her the way around…and watch the pace.”

“Just a minute!” Rachel objected, the panic rising in her chest.

Mike held up his shovel-like hand to silence her. “Don’t argue with me Rachel… Just bloody do it.”

About to complain, Rachel was suddenly aware of Ali’s eyes on her and she glanced across to be met with a warm smile. Incredible blue eyes bored into her, causing Rachel’s heart to surge, and she looked away, unable to return the gesture.

“Ok,” she agreed reluctantly, trying to rein in her nerves.

The runners quickly organised themselves into smaller training groups, ready to leave the car park in waves, with the faster groups away first and the slower ones bringing up the rear. It was a well-practiced routine and within a couple of minutes the final group was on the road, with Mike following behind on his bicycle. Rachel and Ali were left alone, to face one another across the car park.

After a brief pause, Ali smiled and stepped forward with unnerving confidence. “I suppose that means you’re stuck with me,” she said pleasantly.  “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Rachel replied, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. “Shall we go then?” Turning, she broke into a gentle run and immediately Ali fell into step alongside her. For a few minutes neither of them spoke, allowing their breathing to settle into a comfortable rhythm.

“Is this pace okay for you?” Rachel asked, aware that she was moving more quickly than she had initially intended.

“That…depends…” Ali gasped in short, sharp breaths, “on… how… far… you’re… intending to run.”

Rachel steadied the pace, feeling guilty as she stole a brief glance sideways. Ali seemed relatively comfortable, but her colour was more hectic than previously and a light sheen of sweat had developed on her neck, chest and shoulders. Rachel looked away quickly, but the image remained in her mind.

“It’s about 5 miles I think,” she said, following a path to the left as it veered away from the narrow lane and into Parswood Hall forest. Again she glanced at her companion, her eyes dropping down to a small gap, where the white material of Ali’s vest barely met the smooth skin above her breasts.

“You look better.” Ali said, and Rachel wondered if she had caught her looking.  “I wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” Rachel snapped back, unsure why she suddenly felt so irritable.

“Really?” Now Ali looked perplexed. “But you did invite me didn’t you?”

Rachel was unsure how to respond.  “Well…yes I suppose so…but I thought…I thought you might…” She couldn’t finish the sentence and was painfully aware how pathetic she sounded.

“You thought I might what?” Ali pressed gently, her voice soft and appealing.

Rachel sighed. “I thought you might text or call me to say you were coming.”

“Oh right!… I should have, shouldn’t I…I’m sorry about that…I’ve been working nights… I’ve actually come here straight here from the hospital this morning.”

“Have you?” Rachel gasped, turning to study Ali. Now that she looked at her more closely, she could vaguely detect the hint of a dark shadow under each eye. Other than that, she looked amazingly fresh. “Aren’t you tired?” she asked, feeling more than a little bit ashamed.

“I’m fine,” Ali said with a smile, and then suddenly stopped. “Wow!...It’s so beautiful.”

The dirt path wound through the trees, now turning from green to a seasonal russet. A faint whisper of wind, rustled through the remaining leaves and the air was fragrant with earth and wild flowers. Startling pillars of sunlight streamed down through occasional breaks in the meshed canopy overhead and in each beam, the last insects of the summer danced around and around in a final celebration of life.

Rachel stopped and turned to find Ali devouring their surroundings with her wide eyes. Rachel was suddenly overcome by a warm sensation and for a moment, she couldn’t tear her eyes from Ali’s enraptured face. “It is lovely,” she agreed, in a whisper. “I don’t really notice, because I’ve lived here all my life. Sometimes you just take things for granted.”

“I can understand why you stayed. I doubt I’ll ever move away from here. I love it.”

Rachel wished she wasn’t so delighted to hear that and tried to act casual. “Where did you live before?”

“London... Earl’s Court.... I liked it at first...It was...exciting...everything was right there...but I needed to get away from the city. I grew up in a small village in Worcestershire and I couldn’t get used to the pace of the big smoke.  It was never meant to be a permanent move.”

“Well... I’m glad you like it here. And do you like working at the hospital too?”

“I really do ... What do you do for a living Rachel? I’m guessing it’s something very exciting.”

Rachel laughed. “Not especially, but it pays the mortgage. I’m a lecturer at the university.”

“That is impressive... What subject? ...No wait... Don’t tell me...English.”

“Good guess...” Rachel said with a smile. “But sadly, wrong... Philosophy.”

“Bloody hell!” Ali said, and whistled her approval. “So you’re a deep thinker?”

Again Rachel burst out laughing. “Hardly... I chose it as an undergrad because it had the least number of lectures, but then I got into it and I just ...kept on studying.”

They continued along the trail for a while in silence and then Ali spoke again. “I can’t believe I’ve never been down here before.”

“I know…I thought you lived near here?” Rachel asked, showing more interest than she had intended.

“I do,” Ali laughed. “Just around the corner actually.  “But… You know how it is…long hours and all that, and like I said…I’ve not lived here very long.” Rachel nodded her understanding, wondering if it was written all over her face how impressed she was. She could still feel the intense attraction she had first noticed at the race and then later at the hospital; it was like a slow-burning fire in the pit of her stomach. Then a thought occurred to her and before she realised she was doing it, she said, “What were you going to ask me?”

Ali seemed taken aback, and looked at Rachel with a confused expression. “I’m sorry?”

“At the hospital… You said you wanted to ask me something…something unethical.”

Ali flushed a little and laughed with what Rachel thought might be embarrassment. “I don’t think I did,” she said defensively.

“Yes you did,” Rachel insisted. “You said…I know this might sound unethical but…”

Ali held up a hand to stop her and laughed again, before slowing to a stop. “Okay…Okay…I remember what I said.”

Rachel turned to face her, tilting her head curiously. “So…what was it?”

She sighed then, glancing up at the trees overhead, then to the ground, in fact anywhere apart from at Rachel. “Okay,” she said, finally making eye contact. “I was going to ask you something…but then…well… it suddenly seemed inappropriate.”

“Why?” Rachel asked again. “What did you want to ask me?”

Ali stared at Rachel without speaking for what seemed like a long time, before finally breaking the silence. She stepped toward Rachel and for a moment seemed as if she were about to reach out and touch her, but then she stopped in her tracks. Her eyes were troubled. “Like I said…It’s not really relevant now…. Come on…Let’s keep running.” Ali broke into a fast run and Rachel had to turn and sprint to catch her. When eventually she pulled up alongside Ali, her face was serious and her mouth set tightly. Rachel knew not to pursue the subject and they completed the remainder of the run in silence.

Chapter Eleven.

An hour later, Rachel jogged toward home on her own at a leisurely pace. Going to training this morning had been a mistake. Her head was now aching, the skin on her arm felt hot and itchy inside the cast and to top it all off, she’d made a complete fool of herself in front of Ali.

Why had she asked such a ridiculous question? Why couldn’t she ever learn to keep her mouth shut? And why hadn’t she told Ali that Helen was in her past? She couldn’t help thinking that her sudden indifference had something to do with Helen’s maddening appearance at the hospital. Rachel wanted to tell Ali about Helen. But there had been no opportunity to explain it. Anyway, what could she possibly say? “Helen isn’t my girlfriend by the way!” She would have looked even more of an idiot than she did now. For all she knew, Ali might already have a girlfriend herself and even if she didn’t, she was gorgeous, funny and intelligent. Why would she choose Rachel?

It had been obvious from Ali’s demeanor during the run, that she hadn’t wanted to discuss what had happened at the hospital, so when they arrived back at the pub, Rachel had bid her a curt goodbye and headed away as quickly as she could.

She tutted angrily. Okay, she’d behaved like a complete idiot, but to be fair Ali was giving her mixed signals. One minute she was friendly and a little bit flirtatious and the next she was cool and distant. It was all very confusing.

Rachel was distracted from her musings by the distant sound of a car engine, accompanied by the familiar rumble of pounding music. Glancing over her shoulder, she was surprised to see Ali’s Defender approaching. She stopped and turned as the car slowed to a stop beside her. The window whirred down and Ali peered out at her, looking rather embarrassed. “Do you need a lift?” she asked, frowning slightly. The exercise had given her cheeks a pleasant glow and her fair hair was tousled and slightly damp. Rachel tried not to look at the rise of her chest, as she leaned across the passenger seat.

She didn’t know what to say. “I only live over there.” She pointed vaguely in the direction of home.

“That’s okay,” Ali said kindly. “I really don’t mind... Come on. Let me take you.” 

Feeling more uncertain than ever, Rachel opened the door and climbed inside.

The car interior was immaculate and the air, heavy with the fragrance of leather upholstery. The walnut dash and glass instrument panel gleamed as if they had been freshly polished and an air freshener in the shape of a pine tree dangled from the rear-view mirror.

As Ali pulled smoothly out into the road, Rachel took it all in, feeling a little bewildered.

“You really love this car don’t you?”

Ali turned to her and smiled briefly before returning her attention to the road. Rachel’s heart clutched.

“I can’t deny it,” Ali sighed. “It’s my guilty pleasure. “

She watched Ali change gears; her hand gripped the shift stick, causing the muscles in her forearm to tense. Rachel swallowed hard, wondering how watching this simple procedure could cause such a fierce and immediate pulse of heat between her legs.

“Do you have others?” Rachel asked, and immediately felt Ali’s eyes on her. She didn’t dare look up to meet them.

“Guilty pleasures?” Ali asked, her voice deadly serious. “One or two...”

Rachel shifted awkwardly in her seat, as a million inappropriate thoughts raced behind her eyes.

“Oh shit!” she cried suddenly. “This is my street...on the left!”

Unfazed by the last minute navigation, Ali braked smoothly and steered the car around to the left, using only the heel of her hand against the wheel. Again Rachel was transfixed. Dragging her eyes away, she pointed clumsily. “This is my house... here.”

Slowing to a gentle stop, Ali peered up at the imposing building. “It’s enormous.”

Rachel giggled. “It isn’t all mine. I just have the downstairs apartment...number 2,” she added unnecessarily, feeling immediately foolish.

Ali continued to study the building appreciatively. “It’s gorgeous,” she murmured.

“Yes... I love it,” Rachel said, releasing her seatbelt and reaching for the door. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Rachel!... Wait a moment...”

She turned to find Ali staring at her intensely. Again she was frowning.

Leaning back into the seat, Rachel shrugged quizzically.

Ali sighed. “I’m really sorry...about earlier... I was out of order.”

“What for?”

“For behaving like I did.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Rachel said, wondering where this was heading.

“I think I did ... and I’m sorry for it...I’m just,” Ali pressed on awkwardly. “I’m just a bit...unsure...”

“Unsure? ... What about?”

Ali smiled and turning away, gazed thoughtfully through the windscreen. “Well...not to put too fine a point on it...About you!”

This time Rachel didn’t reply. She was so taken aback she didn’t know what to say.  

“Me?” she squeaked finally.            

Ali nodded, turning to look into her eyes. Her expression was grave. “You see...the thing is... and I know this sounds like a cliché, and...I know we’ve only just met but... I find you very interesting.”

Rachel nodded slowly, aware that she was staring. “You do?”

“Yes...but yet at the same time,” Ali continued, “I can’t quite figure you out.”

Rachel considered this, feeling as if she were being drawn into the endless depths of her eyes.

“What can’t you figure?”

She shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know Rachel ... I’d really like to get to know you better, but ...oh...I don’t know.” She smiled and shook her head. Rachel pointed toward the house.

“Do you want to come in for a drink?” She asked tentatively.

Ali didn’t hesitate. “I’d like that.”

Chapter Twelve.

Rachel wasn’t sure why she had invited Ali to come inside, but now that she had, she felt suddenly nervous. They entered the flat in silence, both shuffling awkwardly through the dark hallway and into the large living area.

Giving the room a cursory glance, Rachel was relieved to find everything looking reasonably clean. It was an elegant, whitewashed space, light and airy, with high ceilings, decorated with the original coving and cornices. Two enormous crammed bookshelves lined one wall, and a cast-iron fireplace dominated the wall opposite. In front of it, a distressed leather sofa was cluttered with papers, a pile of books and Rachel’s laptop. In the far corner an old armchair was positioned strategically beneath a reading lamp. The polished oak floor gleamed in the noon sunshine, which streamed in through two large windows. The far end of the room had been converted into a tidy kitchen, with thick, granite worktops and a deep, fireclay sink.

Rachel turned to find Ali watching her and feeling herself blush, she swept across the sitting room, toward the kitchen. “What would you like to drink?” she asked, too brightly. 

Ali’s eyes never left her. “Anything...Whatever’s easiest for you.... This is a wonderful apartment. It has real…character.”

Ali smiled “Is that code for untidy? Like when one someone says you have eclectic taste when what they actually mean is that you have no taste at all?”

Ali laughed. “Not at all! I love it.”

“Good. I’m glad you approve. Would you like Tea...coffee...a large brandy?”

“Tempting...But actually...just a glass of water would be fine.”

Busying herself at the sink, Rachel rinsed a tall glass and filled it with water from the tap. She was glad of an excuse not to look at Ali. What the hell was she thinking, inviting her in? For all she knew, the attraction she felt might be entirely one sided. Although, from the way Ali was watching her, it didn’t seem that way.

“Is this your mum?”

She turned to find Ali standing before the mantelpiece, holding a small, framed photograph.

“Yes.”

“She looks like you.”

Rachel looked at the fading image of her mother; taken when she hadn’t been much older than Rachel was now. The ache in her heart was as acute as it ever had been.

“Yes…She did. A lot of people thought that.” 

Ali glanced up sharply and there was understanding in her eyes. “She… was lovely.”

Rachel paused a moment. “Thank you.”

Rachel swallowed hard. She turned back to the sink, retrieving the glass of water. “Anything to eat?” she asked, trying to think of something else.

“Not just now thanks.”

Rachel spun around to find that Ali had followed her into the kitchen and was now standing very close behind her. Her expression remained intense, as she took the glass from Rachel’s outstretched hand and set it down on the worktop.

She stepped forward and Rachel noted that her breathing was suddenly fast and shallow. “Rachel?” she asked softly. Rachel barely dared to breathe. “Can I ask you something?”

Rachel nodded slowly.

 She looked embarrassed when she asked, “Who was the woman with you at the hospital?”

Taken aback, Rachel hugged her arms across her chest and looked to the floor. She was about to explain that Helen was nobody, that she was in the past; barely more than a memory really, but suddenly she felt defiant and she looked up sharply.  “Why do you ask?”

Now it was Ali’s turn to blush, but still she held Rachel’s gaze. “I honestly don’t know,” she offered weakly, and Rachel knew that she was telling the truth. “I just...wondered.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes, tilting her head to one side, but didn’t reply.

“I don’t want to pry... I know it’s none of my business and I’ve no right to ask... It’s just... I thought maybe...” and her voice trailed away to nothing.

“What?” Rachel insisted. “What did you think?”

Ali looked away then, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “When I saw you at the race...and then again at the hospital...I thought… perhaps inappropriately, that there was something there... between us…I don’t know what... I know I shouldn’t even think that way. It would be very inappropriate for me to pursue any kind of relationship with a patient...even someone I only prescribed painkillers for in A and E, but I couldn’t help feeling… something... But then she appeared...and...it seemed like you two...” Again she stopped mid- sentence, stepping backwards. She met Rachel’s gaze and offered a weak smile. “Hey...it’s none of my business...I’m really sorry... maybe I should just go.” She made to turn away, but Rachel rushed to her side, seizing her arm to stop her.

“She’s my ex-girlfriend,” she blurted; acutely aware of how close they were standing. “It’s been nearly a year since she left. I don’t know why she was even there or why she acted that way.”

Ali gazed at her in silence, considering the explanation. After what seemed an eternity she nodded once, her expression grave. Her breathing was shallow and she stared into Rachel’s eyes with a frightening intensity.

“Maybe she’s had a change of heart,”  

Rachel didn’t speak, but continued to hold Ali’s gaze, enjoying her closeness.

“Have you had a change of heart?” Ali asked seriously.

Rachel shook her head. “I have no interest in Helen.”

Ali leaned in closer until their mouths were almost touching and then, quite unexpectedly, Rachel’s shorts began to vibrate. Suddenly Barbra Streisand burst into song between them.

Ali recoiled. “What the?”

“Shit,” Rachel cursed, grasping for her mobile. “It’s Mel.”

“Mel?” Ali cocked one eyebrow and smiled quizzically, as Rachel continued to fumble in her back pocket.

“My best friend,” she explained, finally freeing the handset and feeling very little shame as she quickly rejected the call. “She’s a colleague too...Well technically I’m her boss...but to be honest she pretty much does as she pleases and ignores everything I say...which can be a bit awkward at times with her being my friend and all, because it’s really hard for me to discipline her...She loves Barbra Streisand...which is why I chose that ringtone for her...I’m not much of a fan myself.” Rachel abruptly stopped talking. “Am I rambling?”

Ali laughed mildly. “Not at all...I’m interested.”

Then the relative quiet of the room was shattered again as Barbra Streisand loudly protested that she would “Never give up...Never give up...”   

Grabbing the handset before it vibrated off the edge of the worktop, Rachel grimaced apologetically. “I’m so sorry...I’d better answer it...She can be very persistent.”

Ali’s face was flushed, but she smiled benignly. “So I see.”

Clutching the handset to her chest, Rachel backed out of the room and into the bedroom and Ali watched her departure with a wry smile.

Slamming the bedroom door, Rachel accepted the call and hissed into the mouth piece. “Shit Mel...What is it?...This is a really bad time.”

Mel paused before she spoke and when she did, her tone was dripping with suspicion. “Why?...What are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything,” Rachel replied, wishing she hadn’t taken the call.

“Then why are you whispering?”

“I’m not whispering!” Rachel whispered. “I’m just...out of breath!”

“Why are you out of breath?”

Rachel didn’t know how to respond and frantically looked about the room for help. “Because...I was...HANGING CURTAINS!”

Mel almost choked. “Hanging curtains!...That’s bollocks...HAVE YOU GOT A WOMAN IN THERE?”

“NOOO!” Rachel protested too loudly, inwardly wondering why she couldn’t just admit it. Mel was her closest friend, after all.

“I bet you bloody have, you dirty cow...Who is it?... Please tell me it isn’t bloody Helen?”

“It isn’t bloody Helen!...Er...I mean....There’s nobody here!”

Mel sounded irritated. “You’re such a crap liar Rachel. I always know when you’re lying...but if you don’t want to tell me...”

Rachel clamoured to shift the emphasis. “Is that why you’re calling?...To check up on me?”

She heard Mel exhale loudly into the phone and when she next spoke all the accusation had left her voice. “Actually no... I rang because I need a favour.”

Rachel heard movement in the front room and wondered what Ali was doing in there. She resisted the urge to peep around the door. “Ok?” she asked, distractedly.

“Yes...You see the thing is...Well...You know the antichrist?”

“Who?...Oh! You mean your landlady?”

“That’s the one...Well…In a nutshell…She’s thrown me out?”

“What?” Rachel gasped, giving Mel her full attention. “She can’t do that! Why did she throw you out?”

Mel’s voice was sweetness personified. “Because she’s evil.”

Rachel scratched her head. “Did you pay your rent?”

Mel hesitated. “Ah...Well...technically no... But I really wanted to!”

Rachel groaned and collapsed back onto the bed. “Oh Mel!...You’re such an arse... Why not?” Somewhere in the distance, she heard a door slam.

Mel seemed surprised by the question. “Obviously, because I have no money!”

Rachel rubbed her forehead anxiously. “But...you just bought a £800 Gucci handbag.”

“...Which is precisely why I have no money!”

Trying not to dwell on Mel’s perverse logic, Rachel sat up on the bed and sighed. “So let me guess... You want to come and stay with me?”

“Ooooh...Would that be okay?” she pleaded. “It will only be for a couple of weeks...tops.”

Rachel shook her head in resignation. “You said that last time.”

“So? It wasn’t much longer than two weeks, was it?”

“A year and a half! It was a year and a half!”

“Was it really?” Mel asked with convincing sincerity. “I had no idea.”

Rachel sighed and climbed from the bed. “Okay...But no longer than a fortnight...Okay?”

“Brilliant! Thanks so much Rach.”

Rachel glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She couldn’t see the word “MUG” written on her forehead, but she was sure it was there somewhere. “When are you coming over?”

“Oh...” Mel’s voice was instantly subdued and Rachel knew what was coming before she heard the words. “Well actually...I’m outside now!”

Chapter Thirteen

Having eventually persuaded Mel to drive around the block a few times and come back later, Rachel tidied her tousled hair quickly and hurried from the bedroom. She had no idea how she would explain this to Ali, but she needed to think of something quickly.

But Ali wasn’t waiting for her in the sitting room and instead Rachel was shocked to find Helen, leaning over her kitchen counter, reading her copy of the Guardian and sipping the water she had poured earlier for Ali. She looked up as Rachel appeared and smiled, as if her being there were the most natural thing in the world. “Hi,” she said pleasantly, apparently not noticing Rachel’s expression of horror. “You look a lot better!”

“What the Fuck are you doing here?” Rachel demanded before she could stop herself, “and what have you done with Ali?”

Helen appeared bemused. “Ali?...Who’s Ali?...There’s no one here but me.”

Rachel scanned the flat quickly, totally confused, and then dashed for the door. Outside, she found Ali clambering hastily into her car. Seeing Rachel approach, she froze.

“Are you leaving?” Rachel asked, knowing she sounded pathetic.

Ali nodded, apparently about to shut the door but Rachel grabbed it before she could. “Wait Ali…Why are you going?”

She paused, apparently deep in thought and then stepped out onto the kerb. Planting her hands on her hips, she fixed Rachel with a serious stare. “Listen Rachel…that was very inappropriate of me…I’m not in the habit of making passes at my patients…and so…I’m sorry for it.”

“I’m not sorry.” The words were out of Rachel’s mouth before she could stop them. “Besides…I would hardly call that a pass.”

Ali seemed surprised by her candour and smiled briefly, but then an expression of regret crossed her face. “Still…It’s hardly appropriate.”

 “Is that why you left like that…without even saying goodbye…because you thought it was inappropriate?”

Ali sighed, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on her shoes. “Not entirely.”

Rachel waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t and for a while they stood in silence. Ali suddenly seemed uncomfortable and she scratched her head thoughtfully. “Listen Rachel,” she muttered. “I like you…I’m not going to deny it. And I am really sorry for walking out…but it was all getting a bit…crowded in there.”

“Crowded?”

Ali frowned. “I’m talking about Helen. Your girlfriend!”

Rachel felt as if she had been slapped. “Helen?...But I already told you…We broke up ages ago…She isn’t my girlfriend anymore.”

Ali raised one incredulous eyebrow. “So you say…but she doesn’t seem to realise that… Anyway…it doesn’t matter…It’s really none of my business.”

“Ali!... Just hang on a minute will you?”

But she held up a hand to silence her.

“It’s okay Rachel…Really…you don’t need to explain yourself to me…We barely know each other… The truth is… I’m too old and frankly too busy to play games; and three-ways…well they just aren’t my style.”

Rachel could feel her blood rising. “Three-ways? Is that what you really think?”

Ali’s shoulders seemed to sag and she sighed. “I honestly don’t know what to think… but I’m not taking the chance… I hope you can forget my indiscretion…it was a mistake…and I really hope we can be friends.”

Rachel nodded mutely, somehow managing to contain her urge to yell at Ali; to tell her that she’d got it all wrong, but the way Ali was acting, there didn’t seem much point. “Of course,” she eventually agreed. “If that’s what you want.”

Ali smiled, a small tight smile, and nodded. “It is…Good…I’m glad we sorted that out.”

***

“You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here?”

Helen smiled, but her cheeks began to flush. “I came for my stuff! You invited me!...Remember?”

Shit. Rachel suddenly remembered the half-hearted summons she had proffered at the hospital.

“Who’s Ali?” Helen’s eyed her curiously.

“Nobody…just a friend from the running club. What did you say to her anyway?”

“Nothing…She saw me and walked out…Funny…She looked like that doctor from the hospital.”

 Rachel struggled to keep calm. “I told you Helen… I hate it when you just walk in here!” 

Helen held her hands up in surrender. “I knocked at the door and rang the buzzer. There was no answer. I figured you were out so I came in to get my stuff. I’m sorry. If I’d known you had company, I wouldn’t have.” Rachel had seen that patronizing smile so often, it was all she could do to stop herself smashing it right off Helen’s smug face.

“I don’t want you in here at all! Anyway...Your things are in a bag by the door. You can get them on your way out... and leave the key!”

Helen frowned. “Okay...if you say so.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the keys, before setting them down on the counter. “I’m really sorry Rachel...For everything.” She looked up then, revealing the tears that were welling in her eyes. Rachel had never seen Helen cry in all the time they were together.

“Hey,” she heard herself saying. “What are you doing?”

Helen covered her face with her hand, as if trying to remove a hateful conceit. “Oh nothing...”she murmured. She looked up at Rachel and there was something slightly desperate in her expression. “I just can’t believe how badly I’ve fucked everything up... I know this is all my fault…But … would it be okay if I called you sometime ...just for a chat?”

Rachel paused and then, overcome by an unexpected wave of sympathy, she slowly nodded her consent. Helen smiled weakly, before heading for the exit. There was a soft “goodbye” before Rachel heard the door open and shut.

She stared into space, wondering what on earth had just happened.

***

“Okay,” Mel said,” adding another bulging rucksack to the extraordinary pile of luggage now occupying most of Rachel’s hallway. “That’s the last one.” She was wearing the tightest pair of hot-pants Rachel had ever seen, a black slashed tee and a pair of patent red, four inch heels.

Rachel eyed Mel’s belongings dubiously. “Where am I going to put all that?”

Unperturbed, Mel strutted past her and clip-clopped into the front room. “Don’t change the subject Rachel. Why was Helen’s Mercedes parked outside when I called earlier...and why were you so flustered on the phone? I thought you two weren’t getting back together.”

Rachel followed her into the front room and collapsed onto the sofa. “Jesus Mel! Who are you?... The marriage police?”

Mel raised a single eyebrow accusingly, before tottering into the kitchen and opening the fridge to study the contents.

“If you must know,” Rachel admitted begrudgingly, “she called for her belongings.”

“Again?” Mel sneered, scrutinising the perishable date on a rather suspicious looking jar of gherkins.

“She did!” Rachel insisted. “Anyway, it’s irrelevant. She’s gone now...and I doubt she’ll be coming back. I made it clear I didn’t want to see her.”

Mel held the jar aloft. The water was cloudy and at the bottom, sediment swirled ominously. “Are these okay?”

Rachel wrinkled her nose. “I doubt it...You left them here the last time you stayed.”

Mel considered this briefly, before twisting the cap off, extracting a massive gherkin and crunching into it. She leaned over the counter, revealing a razor sharp cleavage. “So...” she burbled, through a mouthful of pickle. “Did you have a little goodbye shag?”

Rachel shook her head violently. “No I did not! That’s hardly my style, is it?”

Mel thought about it and nodded her agreement. “I suppose not...But it’s been a while...and you have been acting really weird... There’s definitely something you’re not telling me.”

Rachel regarded Mel thoughtfully, wondering whether or not to reveal her brief dalliance with the doctor. There seemed little point keeping it to herself now. “Well,” she sighed, immediately feeling the heat creeping into her cheeks, “I suppose I have been a bit distracted.”

Mel knew this was Rachel’s code for “romantically involved” and her eyes blazed with intrigue. She scurried across the room at a speed that, considering her footwear, was quite astonishing and perched on the arm of the sofa. “I bloody knew it! ... Who is she?”  

Rachel tried to sound casual, but she couldn’t stop herself grinning, as she recounted the complete tale to Mel.  Mel was almost at fever pitch as she absorbed every detail. “So,” she managed eventually, “that gorgeous blonde from the race? She’s a Doctor?”

“Yep,” Rachel replied smugly.

Mel’s eyes were almost popping out of her skull and her mouth hung open in an expression of total amazement. “Fuck me!” she gasped.

 Rachel laughed loudly. “I know!”

“...Blimey…That was bloody lucky, wasn’t it!” Mel was clearly impressed by the unlikely odds of such an encounter. 

“I suppose,” Rachel said, suddenly subdued by the memory of Ali’s abrupt departure from her apartment.

“What’s wrong?” Mel asked.

“I think I may have scared her off or something. It was all going rather well and then she just...disappeared.”

 Mel frowned. “What did you do?”

Rachel shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. One minute she was here and the next she was gone.”

“You didn’t ask her to move in did you?”

Rachel tutted. “Of course I didn’t. I’ve only just met her.”

Mel regarded Rachel thoughtfully. “I know...but you lot do that, don’t you.”

“Who lot? Lesbians?... Mel you really have to stop generalising. People might be offended. “

“I don’t mean anything by it. It’s just...Well... you do kind of move in together quickly, don’t you.”

Rachel sighed. “How would you know?”

“I read it in one of your magazines. There was an article about how all lesbians move in together on the second date and how it destroys the mystique.”

Rachel sunk deeper into the sofa. “I’ve never heard of that.”

“It’s true…Lesbian bed-death, they called it!”

Rachel shrugged. “Well...There’s no danger of that. We didn’t even get to the first date. The mystique remains intact.”

“So you didn’t shag her?” Mel asked, without any judgment.

“No!” Rachel tried to sound affronted, but only managed to sound disappointed.

“Oh!” Mel said, dropping into the sofa beside her. “Better luck next time.”

“Thanks,” Rachel said, laughing and squeezing her arm, “although I doubt there will be a next time.”

“Hey!” Mel shouted suddenly. “Maybe it was a medical emergency!... She probably had to rush to the hospital and perform life-saving surgery or something.”

“Mel...This isn’t bloody E.R! ...  Besides…it had nothing to do with that… It was because Helen showed up and scared her off.”

“Piss off!” Mel’s eyes had reached gargantuan proportions. “I told you Helen was a treacherous bitch. What did she say to her?”

“I don’t know. She might not have said anything at all!”

 “Oh my god!” Mel glared at her. “Stop being so naïve. She definitely said something. She obviously walked in here while you were on the phone to me and made up some crap to get rid of Doctor Lurve… Bloody typical…Doesn’t want you herself, but doesn’t want anyone else to have you either.”

Rachel winced. “Thanks a lot Mel…You really know how to cheer a girl up.”

“Oh my god!” Mel said again, collapsing back onto the sofa. “You’re so sensitive Rachel.”

Rachel climbed slowly to her feet. “Anyway…It’s not a big deal. Ali can’t have been that interested.” Saying the words out loud, were more difficult than they should have been. “It didn’t take very much to put her off.”

Jumping to her feet, Mel slapped her on the shoulder. “Never mind darling…She obviously doesn’t deserve you… Anyway...Forget all that...Where’s the wine?”

Rachel glared at her. “Wine?...Mel, it’s half past one!”

Mel grinned. “Exactly...Why are we still sober?”

Chapter 14

Only a considerable act of willpower could move Rachel from her bed the following morning. Two bottles of wine and several rum and cokes were hardly the ideal preparation for a morning run.  She staggered into the en-suite and groaned. Dark, blood shot eyes stared back at her from the mirror. Against her ghastly pallor, the bruising on her forehead had turned a vivid shade of yellow.

“Bloody hell,” she gasped, briefly contemplating abandoning her run altogether, in favour of something more sedate, like five more hours of sleep. She hurriedly dismissed the idea. She was scheduled to run twelve miles this morning and it had to be done. If she wanted to compete properly in the Championship, she couldn’t afford to miss any more training. With that thought in mind, she examined the blue cast, lifting her arm and turning it over. It wasn’t too heavy and her wrist felt surprisingly okay. There was only a mild ache and the dressing to remind her that something was wrong at all. Surely it would be healed in time for the race.  Feeling slightly more resolute, Rachel splashed her face with cold water, brushed her teeth and, using only her fingertips and a blob of wax, teased her hair into something vaguely respectable. She then pulled on black shorts, a long sleeved tee and a red windbreaker and headed out into the crisp morning air.

The morning was cooler than the previous week, but the sky remained vast and cloudless. Having performed a few cursory stretches, Rachel attempted a gentle trot out on to the road and inhaled deeply. The air was fresh and sweet and she didn’t feel half as bad as she deserved to, although somewhere in the background a monstrous hangover was threatening to make an appearance.

With surprising energy, she quickened her pace and bounded along the quiet lane, marvelling at the peace and quiet. As she crossed the road, turning onto the narrow trail which would eventually led to Parswood Hall Forest, her thoughts inevitably wandered to Ali and all the confusion caused by Helen’s unfortunate appearance. She supposed she couldn’t entirely blame Ali for getting the wrong idea, but it would have been nice if she had at least pretended to listen to her side of the story.  She was either extremely rude or just plain psychotic, neither of which were qualities she was looking for in a girlfriend. But Rachel couldn’t feel angry towards her. The only emotion she could summon when she thought about Ali was a deep, aching disappointment that weighed on her chest like a stone. She was a beautiful woman, but it wasn’t her physical appearance, so much as her calm, self-assurance and quiet intelligence that were so compelling. She was quite different to Helen, whose charismatic extroversion had once seemed so attractive, but was now just bloody infuriating. Rachel frowned. She was a rotten judge of character, but Ali at least had seemed different.

Trying to convince herself that she would soon forget all about their tantalising encounter, Rachel loped along the trail, crossing the threshold, and quickly finding herself amid the lush greenery and vibrant birdsong of the forest. She pounded the trail down into the heart of the woodland, where the impenetrable foliage seemed to deaden the sound and the strained sunlight gave everything an otherworldly quality. Pushing all thoughts of romance from her mind, Rachel followed the track for some distance, as it twisted relentlessly alongside the water, between silver birch and towering evergreens. This, at least, made sense to her; whilst the rules of romantic engagement remained a total mystery.

***

“I think I’m dying.” Mel was sprawled out across the sofa, wrapped in a pink dressing gown and clutching a carton of orange juice. She looked terrible.

“You’re not dying.” Rachel rubbed her hair with a towel. The shower had briefly revived her, but the threatening hangover had finally made an appearance, and she felt pretty grim herself. Sitting on the floor, she stretched out her legs, in an effort to relieve her cramping calves.

“Oh my god!” Mel propped herself up on one elbow and glared at her. “How can you be so unsympathetic?”

“I’m not unsympathetic…I’m just honest.”

“Oh my god!” Mel said again, collapsing back onto the sofa.

Rachel climbed slowly to her feet. “Don’t exaggerate. It’s nothing that two aspirin and a pint of water won’t cure.”

But Mel wasn’t listening. She had draped an arm across her face, presumably to block out the daylight, and was groaning dramatically.

“Are you okay?” Rachel asked dutifully.

“No! I’m very ill.”

“I’m not surprised, after a full bottle of Jamaican rum.”

“I really think I might be coming down with something… Perhaps its flu!...Or mumps! I’ve never had mumps.” The prospect seemed to excite her.

Rachel guffawed. “You haven’t got mumps …More like alcoholic poisoning.”

Mel dropped her arm briefly to glare at her. “Rachel….you can be very inconsiderate at times…I could be seriously ill.”

Perching on the arm of the sofa, Rachel smiled down at her. “I’m sorry Mel …I tell you what…how about I make us something to eat?…Breakfast might cure you!”

Mel sat up instantly. “Now you’re talking! I could murder a bacon sandwich…Have you got any bacon?”

“I’m a vegetarian.”

“Since when?”

Rachel sighed. “”Since I was 8.”

“Really?” Mel frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Rachel briefly considered reminding Mel that she had told her she a vegetarian on at least fourteen separate occasions. “It must have slipped my mind… How about egg on toast?”

“Urrgh,” Mel grimaced. “I suppose if I absolutely must.”

“It’s either that or gherkins.”

“Okay then,” she said, trundling after Rachel into the kitchen. “Are all your lot vegetarians then?”

Rachel fixed her with a serious stare and then returned her attention to the fridge. “Yes Melanie…all lesbians are vegetarians…It’s compulsory.”

“I bloody knew it!” Mel said, without even a trace of irony. “Anyway… I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?” Rachel sighed.

“…About your little love-triangle problem.”

“It is not a love triangle.”

“Okay…well your threesome…or whatever…Anyway, the point is…I think you should just tell her.”

“Tell who?”

“The sexy doctor.”

“And say what exactly?”

Mel scratched her head. “Just tell her that she’s made a mistake and that Helen is basically the lesbian personification of Satan…or something….she’ll understand.”

Rachel sighed. “Honestly Mel…I don’t know if I can be bothered… She could have just asked me about it…or listened to what I had to say…but she jumped to her own conclusions.”

With a huge effort, Mel hauled herself up and perched on the worktop. “Try to see it from her perspective…She’s here having a romantic tryst with you… and another woman lets herself in and introduces herself as your girlfriend… It doesn’t look good.”

“I know. I know,” Rachel agreed, pulling a pan from the cupboard and clattering it onto the stove. “But she’s got it wrong… She can’t think very much of me.”

“She doesn’t even know you! Give her a chance.”

Abandoning the breakfast preparations, Rachel turned to face her. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Just tell her the truth! You’ll see her tomorrow at training won’t you?”

“Yes…but I’m not talking there… in front of Mike and all the others.”

“Jesus Christ Rachel! Do you want to go out with her or not?” Mel frowned thoughtfully. “What about afterwards…at the social? I’m sure you can find a quiet corner of the pub.”

Rachel considered this a moment. It wasn’t such a bad idea. “I suppose so…if she even goes to the social.”

Mel rolled her eyes, as if this was the stupidest remark she’d ever heard. “Honey…of course she’ll go!”

Chapter 15

Rachel gazed across a sea of bemused faces, searching for the faintest glimmer of understanding. None was apparent. Wittgenstein was baffling at the best of times and perhaps introducing him on a Monday morning had been a bad idea. Still, she hadn’t realised until now that the lecture had been so boring. Apparently the distractions in her life were affecting her more than she had realised.

“That’s it for today folks.” The relief in the room was palpable. “If you don’t want next week’s lecture to be an even bigger mystery than this one, I strongly recommend you read Chapter One, On meaning and Definition.”

But already the students were filing out, mumbling to one another as they tucked away their laptops.

“Seminar groups are posted on the wall outside my office!” Nobody seemed to be paying much attention and with a heavy sigh, Rachel returned to the desk at the front of the theatre and began packing her briefcase. Retrieving her Blackberry, she noticed the tiny envelope icon flashing and quickly navigated to the inbox. The first message was from Mel, saying she would be going shopping after work and asking if Rachel would like her to pick up a ham shank for their dinner. Sniggering she scrolled to the next message; from a mobile number she didn’t recognise. As she opened it, her pulse rate instantly quickened.

“Hi Rachel,” it began, “I hope your wrist is feeling better. Looking forward to seeing you at training tonight. Ali x”

Rachel re-read the message, all the while scowling at the screen. What was she playing at? Hadn’t she said she didn’t want to be involved in games? What did she call this, if it wasn’t a game? Rachel placed the handset on the desk and stared hard at it, wondering whether or not to respond. Part of her wanted to fire back a quick, witty repost, thanking Ali for her interest but reminding her that unless she wanted a quick threesome with her and her deranged ex-girlfriend, she had better not bother contacting her again.   

At that precise moment, the phone began to ring and, somewhat ironically, an image of Helen materialised on the screen. “Incoming Call” flashed dramatically just below her grinning face. 

“Hello?” Rachel said, ramming the handset to her ear.

“Hi Rach…It’s Helen.” Her voice was soft and intimate.

“Oh!” Rachel heard herself reply. “Hi Helen. What’s up?”

Helen sighed and for a moment, Rachel fancied she could feel the breath on her face. “Nothing special… I just wanted to talk to you…Is it a bad time?”

Leaning across the desk, Rachel rested her chin in the cup of her hand. “No,” she sighed. “It’s fine.”

“I just wanted…to apologise again…You know…for turning up at your apartment yesterday and…interrupting you.”

Rachel rubbed her eyes. “Helen…I appreciate you saying that, but…”

Helen interrupted her.  “I know I shouldn’t have done it…but the thing is…I just wanted to see you. I miss you Rachel…I miss us.”

Rachel paused a moment, unsure how to respond. Where was this coming from? “Helen…What we had…it’s gone. It wasn’t my choice…remember…  you decided for us when you… well you know what happened with Jo. There’s no point going over it again.”

“But Rachel…”

“No Helen… No more excuses…I don’t want to argue. It’s finished…so let’s just… move on.”

There was a long silence and Rachel was beginning to think they had been cut off, when Helen spoke again. “I know it’s over,” she whispered and Rachel felt an unexpected stab of pain in her chest. “I just wanted to ask you one last favour.”

“Helen…please don’t…”

“No wait…Just hear me out will you… I managed to bag a table at the Printrooms, you know…that bistro that you love.”

“Really?” Rachel was genuinely impressed. “How did you do that?”

“It wasn’t easy…I had to call in a few favours… I was just wondering …Will you have dinner with me this Friday? Just as friends… for old time’s sake.”

“I don’t know Helen. It sounds like a bad idea.”

But Helen was insistent. “Oh come on Rach! What harm can it do?…I promise I’ll behave and after that…if you want me to, I’ll disappear forever.”

Rachel didn’t reply.

“Rachel…Please say you will…This way we can say goodbye properly; like civilized human beings.”

The idea of closure was very appealing and so, ignoring the voice in her head, Rachel found herself accepting.

“I’ll see you there at eight.”

She wandered the long corridor back to the Philosophy department in a kind of daze. After everything that had happened, why on earth had she agreed to a dinner date with Helen? It had been nearly a year and in all that time, she hadn’t had a single word from her fickle ex-girlfriend. Now, suddenly she was popping up everywhere! Oddly, Rachel couldn’t help feeling that in accepting this invitation she was being disloyal to Ali, but that was ridiculous. Ali had made her position clear and the best thing for Rachel would be to forget all about her. But deep inside Rachel knew that forgetting about Ali, would be a lot easier said than done. 

***

Rachel arrived late for training, feeling anxious and flustered. Unable to find her running shoes amongst all Mel’s clutter, she had eventually unearthed an old pair from the back of the garage, but the search had been long and tortuous. When she finally arrived at the pub car park, having practically sprinted all the way from her apartment, the rest of the runners were already there, waiting for her. She apologised sheepishly and hurried to join them, immediately spotting Ali, who stood at the rear of the group, looking sleek and athletic in black Lycra. She stared at Rachel as she passed by to stand beside Steve, her bright eyes searching and curious. Rachel smiled fleetingly and turned her attention to Mike, now standing at the front of the group, with his arms fixed firmly across his chest and his expression grave.

“Nice of you to join us,” he said gruffly. Rachel offered an apologetic smile and bowed her head.

“Right,” he continued, “now that we’re all here…I want to talk about the Cumberland Half Marathon in three weeks. Anybody can run, but some of you…I expect to run…. Even if you’re carrying minor injuries.” He fixed Rachel with a meaningful stare and paused, as if to add gravity to his words. She nodded dutifully, aware of the instant adrenalin release. “I’ll be announcing men’s and women’s teams at the end of this session, so don’t go rushing off.”

Unable to resist any longer, Rachel stole a sideways glance at Ali and found her staring right back at her. Their eyes held briefly and a smile tinged Ali’s mouth. Quickly, Rachel returned her attention to the coach.

“We’re training on Cardiac Hill tonight,” Mike said, ignoring the immediate chorus of groans, “and I want you to run hard…It’s a tough session, but you need the work…Every last one of you.” Again he directed his attention to Rachel and she squirmed under his scrutiny.  Grumbling amongst themselves, the assembly drifted away into smaller groups, and began slowly meandering toward the start of Cardiac Hill; the most feared training session of all.

The route consisted of a mile-long trail, which looped around in a wide, undulating circuit. The first quarter mile was flat, but then the path turned steeply uphill until half way. At the top, the trail levelled out again, twisting sharply back on itself for a flat, fast quarter. Finally, the path dropped down into a gentle descent, allowing a brief but welcome recovery, before the circuit started all over again. The aim of the session was to complete at least five circuits as fast as possible, without stopping. It was a calf-burning, lung-busting monster, and every athlete in the club had learned to dread it.

They moved toward the start with the deliberate slowness of the condemned and Rachel drifted to the back, composing herself and trying to focus. Suddenly aware of a familiar presence, she turned to find Ali was running alongside her.

“Hi,” Ali said pleasantly. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” Rachel snapped, willing away the blush that was creeping into her throat and face. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I meant your injuries…Are you feeling any better?”

Rachel winced. “Oh that! Yes…Thank you….I’m much better now.”

Ali didn’t seem to have noticed Rachel’s embarrassment. “That’s good. You look better…You look great actually.”

“Thanks,” Rachel mumbled, trying not to notice how fantastic Ali looked.

“Did you get my text?”  Rachel nodded rather sourly, but Ali didn’t seem to notice and carried on benignly. “So… I’m getting the impression this might be difficult.”

Rachel turned her head sharply. “It needn’t be…We’re both adults after all…I’m sure I can handle it.”

Now it was Ali’s turn to blush. “Oh…well actually I meant the session…Cardiac Hill…it sounds quite er …hard…” her voice faded to nothing.

Shit, Rachel cursed silently, resolving never to speak again. “Hmmm,” she agreed with a nod and an awkward smile. Ali looked as if she might say more, but apparently thought better of it and they continued on their way uneasily, avoiding any further eye contact.

Finally approaching the start, Rachel spotted Steve and the rest of her training partners, stretching and warming up. “I’d better go.” Her voice sounded colder than she had intended. “Have a good session.”

“I’ll try,” Ali replied coolly.

There were three other athletes in Rachel’s training group, Steve, Johnny and Dave. They weren’t the fastest men in the club, but they weren’t slow either and keeping up with them was always a challenge. As the strongest woman, Rachel had no option but to train with the guys. It was the only way to push her limits. They were busily organizing themselves when Mike approached them, wearing his customary bobble hat and ancient Adidas tracksuit. He made straight for Rachel. “Are you up for this?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she grumbled, bending over to secure her laces.

“You’d better be!” came the gruff reply. “We haven’t much time until the championships you know.”

Rachel stood up straight and looked him firmly in the eye. “Thanks for reminding me. I’ll be okay.”

He regarded her closely and then apparently satisfied with the response, turned his piercing gaze on Steve. “Right soft lad…you lead the group… and don’t be conservative… We’re not bloody playing you know…I expect six full circuits.”

“Six?” Rachel gasped. “We only usually do five.”

Mike glared at her. “Stop bloody complaining Rachel and just get on with it…Six circuits!”

Rachel knew not to argue with Mike about training and watched silently as he shambled across to the next group, where Ali was waiting for her instructions. Her eyes flashed across and she caught Rachel looking. Blushing, Rachel turned back to Steve.

“Right,” she sighed, struggling to focus. “Let’s get on with it.”

The first five circuits were extraordinarily hard. Steve was obviously feeling strong and he ran each effort with fierce determination, pushing the pace all the way. Rachel soon found herself at the back of the group, struggling to hang on. The climbs were especially gruelling, but in spite of the heaviness in her legs and even though every muscle in her body was screaming for her to stop, she somehow managed to hang on. 

As they turned for the last time into the final stretch for home, Rachel became aware of the group pulling further away from her. Struggling for breath and with her hamstrings agonizingly tight, she just couldn’t seem to close the gap. And then a strange thing happened. From nowhere, and without knowing exactly how she was doing it, she shifted into another gear and in ten strides she caught the group. With their gasps and groans ringing in her ears, she sliced through the pack and, hitting the front, accelerated again, leaving Steve and the others behind, in an explosion of pace.

At the finish, a small group of runners were waiting, having already finished their own circuits. They watched in stunned silence, as Rachel pounded past them, eventually to be followed by an exhausted Steve, then Dave and finally Johnny, who staggered to a stop, looking as if he might throw up.

Rachel slowed to a standstill and stopped her watch, but uncomfortable under the continued scrutiny of the group, she moved further along the path, trying to slow her hectic breathing.

Ali stood alone, apart from the other runners, staring unashamedly as Rachel began her warm down. Rachel could still feel her eyes on her when she stopped to stretch out her calves and turning, she found that, just as she anticipated, Ali was still watching. Her eyes were alive with excitement and she winked and mouthed “Wow!” before slowly moving to join Mike and the rest of the runners in a group stretch.

Wondering at her racing heart, Rachel smiled in spite of herself and then moved across to join them.

***

“I think it’s time you trained with a faster group,” Steve grumbled, as they made their way back toward the pub.

“No way! I just got my second wind at the end…Believe me …before that I was dying on my feet.”

He raised one, incredulous eyebrow. “You didn’t look like you were dying… Seriously Rachel, the championship is yours for the taking…you just need to stay focussed.”

“Hmm,” Rachel agreed, silently reflecting on how difficult that was proving to be.

As they entered the Car Park, a small group had already assembled around Mike and he was reading out names for the half marathon. They arrived just in time to hear him announcing Rachel as team captain for the ladies. He followed that with two other good women, Jane and Gill and then, rather surprisingly, he read out Ali’s name. Scanning the group, Rachel found her floating on the outskirts. If she was surprised she didn’t show it; but simply nodded calmly as Mike announced the final travel arrangements and meeting points.

When the coach had finished his announcements, Ali began moving toward her car and Rachel quickly caught up with her. “Ali!” she said, feeling her heart melt as Ali greeted her with a dazzling smile.

“Hey you!” she replied pleasantly.

“I just wanted to say well done… for making the team.”

“Thanks. I’m looking forward to it.”

They regarded one another for a moment until Rachel began slowly to back away. “Okay then…I’ll see you soon.”

“Rachel wait!” She stopped in her tracks. “Are you going home now?” Rachel wondered where else Ali thought she was going.

“Yes.”

“Can I give you a lift?”

Rachel stared hard, wondering at her intentions. “That’s really kind of you,” she said. “But no thanks… I need to run…to loosen off my legs.”

“Oh, alright.” Ali looked seriously deflated. “You were amazing tonight by the way.”

Rachel laughed before she could stop herself. It had been a while since a woman had said that to her.

“No…I mean it… I knew you were good, but I had no idea you were that good.”

“Thanks,” Rachel said, shuffling her feet awkwardly.

“Are you sure I can’t give you a ride home?”

“No honestly… I’m fine.”

“Hey Ali!” Rachel hadn’t noticed Steve approaching them. “Congratulations on making the team. Are you coming to the social later?”

“Social?” Ali regarded Rachel quizzically.

Mike stretched his right arm across his chest and grimaced, before gesturing toward the pub “Yep...We come here every Monday at nine, for drinks and a quick bite to eat. Why don’t you come along?”

Ali directed her attention to Rachel. “I’m not sure…What do you think?”

Rachel shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

“Are you going?”

She nodded. “I might call in later.”

Ali’s expression remained blank. “Okay,” she said flatly. “Perhaps I’ll see you later?”

“Perhaps,” Rachel said casually, willing her cheeks to stop burning.

Chapter 16

“What do you mean, you’re not going?” Mel glared at Rachel, both hands planted on her hips.

“Just what I said? I’m not going? I’ve loads to do and besides… I have to be up early tomorrow.”

“So do I,” Mel said. “But I’m going.”

Rachel paused and blinked a couple of times. “You are? Since when?”

“I’m allowed to go aren’t I? I know everyone.”

Rachel wandered toward the bathroom, wondering at this new development. “But you aren’t even a member.”

Mel followed close on her heels. “No…but you are!”

“But I’m not going!” leaning across, Rachel used her uninjured hand to twist the tap. It rumbled ominously and then released a brown torrent into the tub.

Mel slouched against the door frame, pursing her lips irritably. “Well I think that’s really selfish of you. I never get to go out these days.”

“Even if that were true, which it isn’t,  I still wouldn’t go!”

“But what about the Doctor? She’s going isn’t she! Why don’t you want to see her?”

Rachel sighed. “Because it’s pointless… besides… she’s playing some weird game and I don’t like it.”

“What game?” Mel scowled.

“I don’t know…One minute she’s nice to me, then she says it’s inappropriate, the next she’s sending me messages and offering me a ride…I don’t know what she wants.”

“So ask her! At the social tonight!”

Rachel pulled off her t-shirt and threw it with perfect aim into the linen basket. “Mel…how many times do I have to say it? I am NOT going to the social tonight!”

“But why not?” Mel squealed. “Don’t be so boring Rachel. Jesus Christ!…You’re thirty-six…Stop acting like an old woman… Besides, you might be missing out on the shag of the century.”

Rachel sighed and began closing the door, forcing Mel out of the bathroom. “Somehow I doubt that…”

“This is because of Helen isn’t it?” Rachel didn’t reply, but Mel continued and Rachel was forced to listen to her disembodied voice through the locked door. “It is isn’t it... It’s because of Helen… You need to get over her Rachel…This woman…Ali… She’s not Helen… Not everyone is like her you know.”

“It doesn’t matter what you say Mel, “ she shouted in reply. “I am not going to the social tonight…and there is nothing you can do to change my mind.”

***

An hour later Rachel followed Mel through the front doors of the White Lion Pub and toward a throng of people gathered the bar.

After thirty minutes of Mel’s pleading, she had finally conceded the argument for the sake of her sanity, on the understanding that she would go for “one drink only”. Whooping with delight, Mel had scurried from her temporary encampment outside the bathroom door and set about preparing herself. Twenty minutes later she emerged from her room in a haze of Chanel, dressed in an unfeasibly tight dress and the highest pair of mules that Rachel had ever seen.

“You do realise it’s just a running club social at the local, don’t you?” Rachel had asked, scanning Mel’s attire and wondering whether she should have made more of an effort herself. Now, as they moved into the warm glow of the pub, Rachel found herself avoiding looking to where the Stanley Striders had ensconced themselves in the far corner. It was partly self-consciousness; being naturally shy, Rachel never found these events easy. But more than that, she didn’t want to look across and find that Ali wasn’t here after all. That would be too humiliating to bear. Instead, she sidled toward the bar, sliding in between two portly gentlemen, who were arguing about football, and ordered two glasses of wine. Mel sneaked in beside her and beamed. “She’s here!” she whispered conspiratorially.

“Who?” Rachel asked, as if she had no idea who Mel was talking about.

Mel shook her head and sighed. “Princess Anne!... Who the hell do you think? Your Doctor lady!...She’s sitting over there with Steve and Mike.”

“Great,” Rachel groaned, wishing this news hadn’t made her feel slightly weak at the knees. “But she isn’t my doctor lady…her name is Ali.”

“Oh just admit that you’re excited.”

Rachel grabbed the two glasses and handed one to Mel, who accepted it gratefully and took a hefty slug.

“I am not excited… I’m here because you pestered me until I agreed to come…if I had my way, I’d be at home marking papers. I’m having this one drink and then I’m going…Understood?”

“Whatever you say!” Mel said sweetly, her eyes dancing with trouble.

***

Ali gazed up at the two of them as they crossed the room. She looked gorgeous in pale jeans and a black sweater and Rachel was painfully aware of her heart thumping as she sat down beside her. “Hi,” Ali said, studying Rachel, with her customary intensity.

“Hi,” Rachel shrilled, slurping her drink too quickly and dribbling a little wine down her chin. She wiped it away quickly.

“You did well tonight love,” Mike grumbled, nursing a pint of bitter against his chest.

“Thanks” Rachel said, glad of the opportunity to look away from Ali.

“Keep working as hard as that and you’ll be alright.”

Rachel smiled and then watched with amusement as Steve suddenly clocked Mel approaching them. He swallowed hard, completely defeated by both the clinging fabric and obscene neckline of her dress. Taking a long draft of his pint, he watched her sashay across the pub, his eyes never leaving her shapely form, until she arrived at the table.

“Evening all!” she said, gliding around to the vacant seat between Mike and Steve. “Don’t mind if I sit here do you gents?”

Mike shrugged, but Steve nodded emphatically and she perched delicately on the bar stool next to him. “Not at all,” he gasped.

“You look nice,” Rachel turned to find Ali smiling in her direction.

“Thanks.” In spite of herself, Rachel had opted for her favourite check shirt, a pair of skinny jeans and her best boots. She had spent longer than usual in front of the mirror, teasing her hair into shape and she had even taken care to apply a little mascara and lipstick.

Ali beamed. “I’m glad you decided to come,” she said, causing Rachel’s stomach to flip pleasantly. “…because I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“It’s about the Cumberland Half Marathon.”

Rachel willed herself to smile through her disappointment, although what she had expected Ali to ask, she wasn’t entirely sure. “Oh…that.”

“Yes…You see the thing is…I don’t know the way… Would it be okay for us to travel together?”

Rachel considered the question, knowing she couldn’t possibly refuse. “Sure,” she agreed eventually. “There will be a few of us driving up there… I’m sure we can find a lift for you.”

Ali leaned back in her seat, regarding Rachel through narrowed eyes. “Oh!... Alright then.”

 Feeling immediately stupid, Rachel grabbed her wine and finished it quickly. She held up the empty to Mel. “Fancy another?” Mel nodded enthusiastically.

“Would you like a drink?” she asked Ali, who was now looking beyond her to the wall, where the large TV screen was showing Rugby highlights. She shook her head and smiled thinly.

Climbing from her seat, Rachel made for the bar. She knew her tone had been unnecessarily dismissive, but couldn’t seem to help it. Whenever she was around Ali she managed to make a total idiot of herself. She arrived at the bar and waited impatiently for the bartender, who was struggling to cope with a large order. Mike joined her, draping a heavy arm around her shoulder as he leaned against her.

"I meant what I said, you know…” he said gruffly. “You ran well tonight… You're pace is really coming on."

Rachel swelled with pride. Mike rarely gave out compliments, so when he did, she knew they were genuine.

The harassed bar man stopped in front of her and Rachel ordered another two glasses of wine and a pint for Mike. He immediately frowned at her.

"What?" she asked.

"You need to cut out the booze… I want you sharp for the championships."

She sighed dutifully. "Okay… I'll stop for a while… after tonight. I'm only having a couple."

"Really?" Mike said incredulously, arching his bushy eyebrows. "You drank that first one like you'd just stepped out of the Atacama desert."

"Hmmm…I was thirsty."

"Just be careful. You need to stay strong."

"I will," Rachel said unconvincingly and she turned to look back to where Ali had now been cornered by Mel. The two were deep in conversation and Rachel felt a little nauseous. "Oh no," she murmured to nobody in particular.

"Anyway" Mike continued. "How's your arm? Are you fit enough to win in Cumbria?"

Rachel shrugged, struggling to drag her eyes away from Mel, who was apparently explaining something in vivid detail, whilst gesturing wildly with both hands.

"You'd better be Rachel, because Carol Wilson is going to be there."

This caught Rachel's attention and she stared hard at him. "Carol Wilson?...Are you sure?"

As the assistant coach of the UK Women's Endurance squad, Carol Wilson had the job of picking the teams. She occasionally turned up at local races when she had her eye on someone for the UK squad. Everyone knew about her, although few athletes were fortunate or talented enough to ever meet her.

"I'm positive," he replied, stifling a grin.

Rachel tried to quell her excitement. "How do you know?"

He shrugged casually." She rang me last night…she wanted to make sure that you were running… She’s watching Jodi Samuels as well."

For the second time that day, Rachel felt her legs go slightly weak. "Oh my god!" she said. "But…I'm not ready…What about my wrist? It will slow me down." She held up the blue cast, as if to demonstrate the point.

"You just said you were fit."

"Well yes…I thought I was…but that was before I knew about bloody Carol Wilson."

He placed a massive hand on her shoulder and steadied her with his cool, serious eyes. "Stop panicking…You're in the best shape of your life… I'm not worried… Just keep doing what you’re doing and don’t get distracted."

Again she stole a sideways glance at Ali, who was still listening intently to whatever Mel was telling her.

"Why do you keep saying that?" She asked, a little too sharply.

Mike sighed. "Because I know you Rachel and now is not the time to take your eye off the ball…these opportunities come along once in a lifetime…So don't blow it."

***

Somehow Rachel resisted the urge to ask Mel and Ali what they were talking about when she returned to the table, but she cringed nonetheless as Mel quickly vacated the seat beside Ali, allowing her to sit down. Could she be any more obvious?

Ali seemed to sense her distraction and studied her carefully as she took another massive slug of wine. “Are you alright?” Her voice was soft with concern. “You’re as white as a sheet.”

Mel joined her in examining Rachel’s appearance. “She’s right. You really are! What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” Rachel lied. “I’m just a little tired… In fact…I think I’ll go home.”

“What!” Mel exclaimed. “But we’ve only just arrived! You’ve still got wine!”

“I know,” Rachel conceded and pushed the glass away. “I’m sorry… I was just talking to Mike and …well…I think I’d better get an early night.” She shifted her gaze to Ali, who was watching her silently, her expression blank and unreadable.

Clearing his throat, Steve leaned across the table toward Mel. “You don’t have to leave do you? At least finish your drink… It’s still early…I’ll walk you home later.”

Mel smiled coyly, her simmering outrage instantly forgotten. “I might just do that,” she purred, reaching for Rachel’s abandoned glass. “Thanks Steve.”

 “That’s settled then,” Rachel sighed, pushing herself to her feet. I’ll leave a key under the mat.” Again she found her eyes drifting to Ali, whose face remained a mask of ambivalence.

“See you soon?” Rachel asked, but Ali didn’t respond.

***

It was a still night and the air was cool. She pulled her jacket tightly around her as she walked the short distance to her apartment. The sky remained cloud free and she hoped it would stay that way. She needed to get up early and hated training in the rain. 

All the way home, Rachel found herself looking back over her shoulder, where the glow of the pub threw out its invitation to the darkening September sky. She should never have allowed Mel to talk her into going. Every time she saw Ali it ended up a disaster. Well at least that had resolved it. Nothing was going to happen between them. She would just have to settle for friendship. But it was mightily inconvenient that every time she saw Ali, she wanted to rip all her clothes off.

She tried to distract herself with thoughts of the Cumberland half, but that only served to knot her stomach even tighter. She couldn’t believe that Carol Wilson was coming to scout for her. It was more than she had ever dreamed of. Running had started as a hobby and over time become a lot more serious, but she never would have imagined this. She knew she was fit and training well, but having a broken wrist was a major impediment. She didn’t need Mike to tell her that. And what if she fell apart on the day? 13.1 miles was a long distance to race over. Anything could happen.

Arriving at the house, she climbed the steps, fumbling for her keys. A deep, post-training ache had settled in her legs and she was glad to be home. Scrabbling around in an effort to insert the key in the lock, Rachel didn’t notice the car, gliding quietly into the car park behind her.

Chapter 17

She had just turned on the sitting room light, when the buzzer startled her. Wondering how Mel had managed to finish both their drinks so quickly, she padded through the hallway, out of the apartment and to the exterior door. But as she drew it open, she was surprised to find that it wasn’t Mel waiting on the other side, but Ali. She stood back from the door in the shadows, looking uncomfortable.

“Hi!” Rachel exclaimed, feeling an instant thrill at the sight of her. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again tonight. Are you okay?”

“Hi,” Ali mumbled, shuffling her right foot awkwardly. “I’m sorry to just drop in.” She swept a hand through her impossibly blonde hair. “I just wanted to ask a quick question. I won’t take up too much of your time.”

Rachel stepped outside into the cool, night air, closing the door behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong…I just wanted to ask… Have I upset you? Or made you angry… You seem angry with me.”

  Rachel paused, unsure how to respond. “I’m not angry with you.”

Ali looked up and her, with unfeasibly large eyes. “Really? Not even a little?”

 “I… I don’t know…Maybe a little.”

Ali frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Rachel couldn’t help smiling. “It’s okay…Why don’t you come in for a minute?”

She slowly looked up. “I’d like to…if it’s no trouble.”

Rachel’s pulse fluttered, as she backed in through the door. “It’s no trouble.”  

***

“I love this apartment,” Ali said, standing in the centre of the room, gazing around appreciatively. 

The sitting room was bathed in shadows, aside from a small pool of light over Rachel’s old, leather chair. It had belonged to her Dad once upon a time, and now it was where she sat to read and to work; her one, small sanctuary from the world.

“It’s dark in here… I’ll put some more lights on.”

“Don’t!” Ali said, stopping her in her tracks. “I like it like this.”

“Me too,” Rachel said, suddenly unable to tear her eyes from Ali. Somehow she was even more beautiful in the half-light.

Ali smiled and then crossed to the bookshelf. “Do you mind?” she asked, before turning her attention to the row upon row of books crammed there.

“Help yourself,” Rachel said, watching Ali’s elegant fingers as she carefully drew a tome from the shelf and studied the dust jacket. “I can’t believe you read Dostoyevsky,” she murmured.

Rachel backed into the kitchen and turned to fill the kettle. “The Brothers Karamazov… It’s from when I was an undergrad… I’m not reading anything quite so impressive at the moment… These days I’m lucky if I can finish a Jackie Collins… Tea or coffee?”

“Black tea please… Do you like Russian Literature?”

“Not especially…I like that one though… When I first read it I was moved by the conflict between faith and suffering…. It seemed important to me…at the time.”

“And now?”

“It still interests me, I suppose.”

Ali peered at her, over her shoulder. “Faith and suffering?... the idea that the suffering in the world somehow negates the existence of a divine and benevolent being…that kind of thing?”

Rachel smiled to herself. “Exactly… The crisis of conviction caused by all the terrible things that happen every day.’

Ali watched her awhile, considering the problem. “And yet, somehow, some people continue to have faith?”

“Apparently.” Wondering what they were really talking about, Rachel carried two steaming mugs into the sitting room and, handed one to Ali. She moved to her chair, whilst Ali returned Dostoyevsky to the shelf and continued to browse, keeping her back to Rachel. Rachel couldn’t help but admire the shape of her legs, the elegant curve of her back, the way that her cropped hair brushed the smooth skin of her neck. For a while an easy silence hung over the room, and they held their positions at either end of the void. Finally Ali broke the silence, keeping her attention fixed on the bookshelf.

“Please tell me how I have upset you.”

Rachel chewed her lip, looking at Ali’s back and totally unsure what to say. Perhaps wondering at the silence, Ali turned to face her. “Was it because of what I said when I left here last week…and the way that I left?

Rachel nodded. “You jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

Ali’s expression was deadly serious. “Did I?”

“Yes,” Rachel replied simply. “You assumed that Helen was my lover and that I was lying about it… I appreciate that you don’t know me…But you see… I don’t lie… I hate lying…and I don’t cheat.”

Ali sipped her tea, still watching Rachel thoughtfully. “I shouldn’t have said what I did…You don’t seem like that kind of woman at all.”

“I’m not!” she replied matter-of-factly, “and to be honest… You thinking that of me… It really bothered me.”

Ali took a faltering step forward. “I’m sorry… I should have listened to you…But we barely know each other… It seemed …premature… It’s hard isn’t it…trusting people… Don’t you think?”

Rachel paused, then nodded.

“…Rachel… I like you… the truth is…I can’t stop thinking about you… I know we got off to a bad start…but maybe we could act like none of this happened and try again…What do you think?”

Rachel swallowed hard. “Try what again exactly?”

“You know!…this…Perhaps we could go for dinner or something?”

Rachel sighed. “I like you too Ali …But you said that anything beyond friendship would be inappropriate, remember? ...Besides the timing is terrible…I’ve got the championships coming up and next week a UK scout is coming to watch me race in Cumbria.”

Even in the semi-darkness of the room, Ali’s delight was clear and she moved toward Rachel, stopping just in front of her. “Rachel! Really? That’s wonderful!”

“Thanks” Rachel replied, suddenly noticing how close Ali was standing and she felt her pulse quicken. “The thing is,” she said, reticent under her penetrating gaze, “I shouldn’t really get …involved at the moment...” Ali dropped to her knees, so her face was on a level with Rachel’s and nodded to show she understood. “Okay.”

“Mike says I have to stay focussed.”

“You do,” Ali agreed, placing her mug on the floor and resting a hand on either arm of the chair.

“He says now isn’t the time to take my eye off the ball.” Suddenly Rachel found herself transfixed by Ali’s mouth.

 “He’s right…That’s excellent advice…and you’re right about it being inappropriate...It would be totally wrong of for me to take advantage of a patie...”

The word was stopped on Ali’s lips, as Rachel kissed her; the gentlest of caresses, only a fleeting, delicate communion; but enough to silence her.

 Leaning back, Rachel gazed into Ali’s eyes, so close and suddenly dark with desire.

For a moment, they regarded one another in silence.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel whispered. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Then don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t stop yourself.” Ali reached up and with unbearable tenderness; she touched Rachel’s face, first caressing her cheek and then delicately tracing the line of her mouth. Rachel felt a sweet contraction and trembled with anticipation.  Ali slowly moved downward, grazing the exposed skin of Rachel’s throat and watching the path of her own fingers with deep curiosity. Her palm was smooth like satin, the contact electrifying, and she continued around, until her hand came to rest at the base of Rachel’s neck. With her pulse thumping, Rachel made no resistance as Ali drew her in. A smile briefly coloured her face and Rachel watched her lips, as they parted slightly to welcome her. As their mouths connected, Ali’s body shuddered and a tiny groan escaped her. Her mouth was soft and hot and she sought Rachel tenderly at first and then with greater urgency. Rachel returned the kiss hungrily, suddenly overwhelmed by a burning need to feel her and taste her. The pressing ache that had been a constant presence ever since she first laid eyes on Ali, threatened to overwhelm her and she pulled her even closer, crushing her body against her own. Strong arms enveloped her, drawing her nearer still and Rachel gasped as Ali’s tongue flicked into her mouth, briefly at first, and then again, expertly moving against her own in slow, tantalising strokes.    

It had been so long since Rachel had experienced this kind of longing, she wasn’t sure she could bear it and she held Ali against her, wondering how she had managed all this time without any kind of physical contact. Ali’s body was firm and strong and slowly she sketched the line of her back with her fingertips.

Her hand glided down the side of Rachel’s body and she gasped as soft fingertips expertly found their way under the folds of her shirt. Her touch was like fire, as her hands skillfully traced the contours of Rachel’s stomach, slowing edging upward and then slipping under the material of her bra. She felt a sharp pain inside her as her fingers found the sensitive skin of Rachel’s breast. In a tangle of caresses, they fell backward onto the floor, exploring each another with fast, frantic hands. Ali, rolled on top, pinning Rachel down and kissing her hard, probing and searching, with her lips and tongue. And then, with maddening slowness, she began to unfasten the buttons of Rachel’s blouse.

Surprised at how easily she could dismiss Mike’s warning, Rachel made no attempt to stop her.

***

The fine kiss of dawn stirred Rachel from her sleep the next morning. Luxuriating in its warm embrace, she opened her eyes slowly and blinked at the clement sunlight, pouring between the drapes and glorifying the room. Heavy with sleep, it took a moment to remember, but as the previous night's events came flooding back, she stole a sideways glance and her heart leapt as she registered Ali, still sleeping in the bed beside her. Rachel watched her a moment. She looked so peaceful lying there; the steady rise and fall of her chest, her face clean with contentment. She wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel the flawless skin of her shoulder, to kiss her and hold her close, but she didn’t. Somehow it seemed wrong to disturb her when she was so tranquil.  Instead, she carefully rolled out of bed and padded quietly toward the bathroom.

“Hey!…Where are you going?"

Rachel turned to find Ali, barely awake and propping herself up on one elbow. The duvet had slipped slightly, revealing the naked skin of her chest. Rachel tried not to stare.

Returning to the bed, she perched on the mattress beside her. "Good morning…I'm sorry I woke you."

Ali smiled and nodded toward the alarm clock. "Where were you sneaking off to? It's 6 am!"

Rachel leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She smelled of soap and peppermint. “I have to train before work.”

Hutching herself into a seated position, Ali allowed the covers to fall away completely.

“That’s cheating,” Rachel said with a wry smile. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Ali replied innocently.

“Bringing out the big guns like that…I still have to run.”

Laughing, Ali pulled her into a clinch, looking into her eyes with more than a hint of mischief. “I wouldn’t dream of distracting you.”

“That’s good to know,” Rachel replied lightly. “Because I could be very easily distracted.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes…So don’t even think about it.” Pulling herself free, she stood up and gazed down at Ali, who looked quite incredible considering she had just woken from a deep sleep. “Stay here if you like…I’ll only be an hour.”

Relaxing back on the pillow, Ali pulled the covers up around her. “I think I will.” She sighed melodramatically. “You’ve worn me out.”

***

Training that morning was surprisingly easy. Rachel hit the trails with a vigour she hadn’t felt in a long time and checking her GPS found that she was covering the ground faster and easier than usual. She completed the 7 mile circuit in record time, aware that her main motive for rushing was so she could get back to see Ali. Whenever she thought about her, a warm sensation, like melting chocolate, seemed to bubble up inside her.

The previous night had been incredible. Ali had been considerate and gentle, but at the same time passionate and assured. They had made love for hours, at first on the floor of the sitting room and then, worried that Mel might return at any moment, they moved into Rachel’s bedroom, loving one another with a delight and tenderness that Rachel had never known. The awkwardness that had dogged their early encounters was nowhere in sight she couldn’t help feeling that they might be at the start of something rather wonderful.

But as she rounded the final bend, and joined the path back toward home, Rachel suddenly froze. Was that Helen’s car just disappearing around the corner at the far end of the avenue? Surely not!  She wouldn’t be around here at this time of the morning. It wasn’t on her route to the office and she would never call around so early. Persuading herself that she was mistaken, Rachel picked up her pace again and, as her apartment came into view, she bounded the last 300 metres with consummate ease.

She crept through the hallway, taking care not to disturb Mel, as she hurried into the bedroom and then stopped in her tracks. The bed, where she expected to find Ali was now empty and tidily made up. There was a small note on the pillow.

She quickly retrieved it and felt a strange, sinking feeling as she registered the words that had been hastily scrawled there.

“I’ll call you.”

***

Chapter 18

“Was there someone else in the apartment this morning?’

Startled by the question, Rachel managed to hold Mel’s penetrating gaze with surprising conviction.

“No…Of course not! Why do you ask?”

Mel shrugged, returning her attention to the road. “There seemed to be a lot of noise and stamping about.”

Rachel looked out of her window at the fields whipping by. “Sorry…It was probably me. I went out for a run.”

“It sounded like a whole herd of elephants going out for a run!”

Rachel shrugged innocently. She should of course tell Mel about Ali, but for some reason, felt compelled to deny it.  Mel steered wildly off the main road and into the campus car park. “And who the hell was that calling at 7 am this morning?”

Rachel glared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“On the telephone. I heard it ringing for ages and then someone mumbling on the answering machine? Who the bloody hell would be calling at that time?”

 “I’ve no idea? Maybe it was someone in a Mumbai call centre trying to sell us insurance.”

“Bloody annoying, whoever it was…I was in the middle of a lovely dream too!”

Having unsuccessfully circled the car park three times, Mel eventually gave up her quest for a space and instead drove her mini up the grass embankment and ground to a cacophonous halt. Rachel glared at her incredulously, as if to say are you serious, but didn’t comment. Crunching the handbrake, Mel hopped from the car and made her way around to the back. Rachel quickly followed her and together they grabbed their bags and papers from the boot.

Rachel gazed up at the sky, as they scurried between the rows of cars. It was heavy with swollen clouds and a distinct bite had crept into the wind. Perhaps summer was finally at an end. Glancing sideways, she found Mel watching, her expression perturbed.

“What?” Rachel demanded.

“ I could ask you the same thing!...You’ve barely spoken all morning.”

“That’s so untrue.”

“It’s perfectly true...and,” Mel added, almost as an afterthought, “You’ve got a face like a baboon’s bottom!”

“Charming!” Rachel sighed, hauling her laptop case further onto her shoulder and wincing at the accompanying pain in her wrist. “If you must know, I was just thinking about the weather...about how it’s changing.”

Mel scowled. “Of course you were.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rachel asked defensively, pushing her way through the glass doors and into reception, where a small crowd of staff and students were busily milling about the foyer.

“Nothing,” Mel mumbled.

Aware that she was irritable this morning and equally aware that it was no fault of Mel’s, Rachel still couldn’t stop herself pursuing the argument and she snapped her head sideways. “Mel...I don’t know what you’re implying, but if you’ve got something to say, just bloody well say it!”

Pursing her lips tightly, Mel glowered at Rachel. They continued along the corridor in silence, the only sound that of heir heels clicking loudly on the linoleum floor. “ I have absolutely nothing to say to you...so stop being so bloody touchy.”

Feeling slightly ashamed, Rachel hurried into the senior common room and dropped her bag onto an empty desk. Turning, she saw that Mel was not going to join her and she watched her friend cross the room to the very far side, ignoring the free space beside Rachel. She turned her back and proceeded to busy herself in the contents of her extremely expensive looking handbag. Rachel could almost feel the waves of anger radiating from her tiny frame.

“ Bugger,” she cursed softly, knowing she shouldn’t have barked at her like that, and, moving to the coffee machine, she quickly selected an extra large, double-choc mocha. When the antiquated machine had completed its creaking and wheezing and issued a rather unappetising looking brew, Rachel retrieved it and sheepishly crossed the common room.

“Mel,” she said, extending the peace offering. Like a heat seeking missile, Mel’s eyes honed in on the sweet smelling beverage and she reluctantly accepted it.

“I’m really sorry,” Rachel said.

Still not speaking, Mel took a long draft from the cup and placed it down on the desk. Finally a smile tinged the corners of her perfectly made up mouth. “ You should be bloody sorry, you stroppy mare.”

Rachel dropped into the vacant seat beside her and groaned. “I know. I know! I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

Planting her hands on her hips, Mel glared expectantly. “So tell me what’s wrong. Has something happened?”

Rachel nodded glumly. “Kind of.”

Immediately intrigued, Mel sat down and scooted closer to Rachel. Her eyes were sparkling. “It’s something to do with Ali isn’t it?”

“How did you know that?”

Mel was nonchalant. “Feminine intuition...and because she left the pub straight after you did last night. I wagered Steve five pounds that she was on her way over to see you.”

“Great,” Rachel grumbled.

“Am I right then?”

Rachel nodded, absently scratching under her cast with a pencil. “She turned up at the apartment last night...and she ended up... staying over.”

Mel’s eyes widened massively. “Did she really? I knew there was someone else in there! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Doubling over, Rachel buried her head in her hands. “I don’t know… Because I’ve only just met her…I thought you might think I was a dirty cow.”

“You are a dirty cow! There’s nothing wrong with that!”

“Oh god!” Rachel groaned. “I think I’ve just made a massive mistake.”

“Why?” Mel seemed genuinely puzzled. ‘You really like each other...that’s obvious.”

Again Rachel cringed, but Mel didn’t seem to notice. “So what’s the problem?”

“There might not be a problem. “Rachel’s tone was uncertain. “It’s just that she left this morning without saying goodbye. She said she would wait for me, but when I got back from running, she’d gone!”

Mel leaned back and considered this. “Well that’s not the end of the world... She probably had to go to work or something.”

“I don’t think so...It’s her day off. She told me last night.”

Mel waved a dismissive hand. “Nah...That means nothing when you’re a doctor...You never really have a day off.”

She said this with such total conviction that Rachel was almost convinced. “How do you know that?” she asked, hoping for a credible response and Mel explained that when she was a student she had shared a room with a girl whose brother was training to be a pharmacist and consequently she knew all about the demands of medical practice.

Rachel rolled her eyes, but didn’t question the logic. “Okay Mel... But she did say she was going to stay until I got back... she said she was exhausted.”

“Uh gross,” Mel said, grimacing as if she had swallowed a wasp. “ Please don’t make allusion to your sexual practices whilst I’m trying to eat my breakfast,” and, as if to emphasise the point, she took another slurp of coffee.

Rachel blushed. “I’m not making allusions!” she whispered, looking about furtively. “ I was just trying to explain...Anyway, she left this.” She wasn’t sure why she had kept the note, or why she had chosen to bring it to work with it that morning. Perhaps it was because she liked Ali’s handwriting so much. She had certainly studied it in greater detail than she would ever admit to another living soul. Mel took the note carefully and her brow visibly furrowed.

“Oh...” was all she could say.

“You see!”

Handing the note back to her, Mel smiled unconvincingly. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

 “Like what?”

“I don’t know! She definitely likes you...I can tell.”

Rachel chewed her lip and looked at her feet. “She’s got a funny way of showing it...Maybe she’s changed her mind. People do that sometimes...after they’ve had...”

Mel raised a hand to silence her. “I get the idea Rachel...Spare me the gory details.” At that moment they were distracted by the rather unpleasant sight of Professor Harrison, Head of Faculty, heading their way. He was a frail, angry man, who saw the world through a veil of tweed and corduroy. Sweeping the few remaining strands of his grey hair across his pink head, he fixed Rachel with watery eyes, and crossed the common room, with the precise movements of a spider.

“Good morning Dr Ryder...Ms Bishop.” he spat Mel’s title, as if trying to remove an unpleasant taste from his mouth.

“Good morning Professor,” they chimed in dutiful unison.

He smiled thinly. “Dr Ryder...A moment please.”

She rose from her chair and followed him to a quiet corner of the room, where he leaned in closely toward her. He smelled of Old spice and paper dust and Rachel tried to breathe through her mouth. “We need to make an appointment,” he whined, “to discuss last years results and your projections for this year...and there is one other rather delicate matter I must bring to your attention.”

Rachel felt her heart stutter in her chest. “Oh? Really? Alright Professor...When would you like to see me?”

“As soon as I have a vacancy... Which may be some time.” Again he smiled, revealing a row of uneven, stained teeth. “Email Amanda and she will make all the arrangements.”

Mandy, Professor Harrison’s long suffering PA, spent her life on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“I’ll do that.” Rachel watched as he turned on his heel and left her standing alone. Mel scurried across to join her. “What did the old trout want?”

“I’ve no idea,” Rachel said, watching him scuttle from the common room, “But I think we’re in trouble.”

Chapter 19

The Printroom was an intimate brasserie, located on Beech Street; a bustling corridor of bars and restaurants in the heart of Stanley. Converted from an old print shop, it was a small concern, only accommodating around 40 diners at a time, but it was known across the county for it’s elegant cuisine and select clientele.  Inside, the decor was sensuous, with dark oak floors and walls of ochre and russet. Soft lighting complemented occasional pieces of artwork, and the gentle strains of jazz purred in the background.

Standing in the doorway, Rachel surveyed the room; now jam-packed with a jovial, Friday night crowd. It was everything she had imagined and more. The air was rich with the tantalising aromas of baking bread, garlic, exotic spices and freshly ground coffee. In one corner a rowdy group had commandeered two enormous sofas and were quaffing margaritas with total abandon. At the bar itself, every seat was occupied and surrounded by at least three other guests, all exchanging gossip about the week that had passed and not really listening to one another.

Among this slightly inebriate crowd however, there was no sign of Helen.

Typical, Rachel reflected. After all the effort she had taken to persuade her to come, it was just so like her not to be here on time.

After a moment's deliberation, Rachel headed into the bar and, pushing her way through a mass of bodies, ordered herself a mineral water. Then, leaning against a pillar, she sipped her drink and scanned the room just in time to see Helen rushing inside, looking harassed and windblown. Judging by her grey pinstripe suit and black overcoat, she had come straight from work. As she spotted Rachel, her face was illuminated with a typically dazzling smile and she crossed purposefully toward her.

"Hi," she gasped, surprising Rachel by leaning across and pecking her lightly on the cheek.

Rachel responded was a cool smile.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Helen gushed, gesturing to the bartender with a well-practiced nod and a wave. "I've been in court all afternoon and then I had to go back to the office to sort out a few issues. I must have lost track of time."

Rachel nodded. All of this felt uncomfortably familiar. "Never mind," she managed finally. "You’re here now."

“So,” Helen asked, her eyes sparkling. “What do you think of the place?”

Rachel nodded. “Its great. Thanks for inviting me.”

Helen ordered a large Vodka tonic and then gently guided Rachel away from the crowds to a reserved booth at the back of the restaurant.

"Is this okay?" she asked, sitting, then sliding around to allow Rachel to join her.

It was a dark, intimate space, barely large enough for two people. Rachel paused, looking down at Helen's expectant face, which slowly darkened with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "This was all they had…You know how difficult it is to get a table here."

It was totally inappropriate for the occasion, but moved by Helen's discomfort, Rachel squeezed herself into the seat beside her and was immediately enveloped in a cloud of her perfume; Eau de Givenchy, an aspect of the scenery in so many of their intimate moments.

"This will be fine," Rachel said, trying to keep a small gap between them.

Helen smiled encouragingly and Rachel cast her eyes to the table, wishing she had a menu or anything at all, so she could legitimately look away.

Right on cue a waiter appeared, carrying menus, an ice bucket and a bottle of expensive-looking, French champagne. He leaned across the table, expertly lighting their candle with a quick flick of his lighter and with another flourish, conjured two champagne flutes, apparently from nowhere. He placed them delicately on the table, before popping the bottle open with quite astonishing dexterity and before she knew what was happening, Rachel's wine glass was filled with the golden liquid. Having furnished them each with a menu, the waiter nodded curtly before disappearing again and they were left alone.

Rachel gestured toward their glasses. "You seem to have gone to a lot of trouble."

Helen smiled. "Not really. Besides, it’s a special occasion."

"Is it?"

"Yes," Helen leaned forward conspiratorially. "It’s the start of a fresh chapter for us both; a new beginning. I think that's worth celebrating. Don't you?" She raised her champagne in the air.

Rachel picked up her glass and chimed it uncertainly against Helen's. "Okay…As you put it that way."

"Besides," Helen continued. "It's nice to spend a bit of time together… just the two of us… Don't you think?"

Rachel sipped the champagne. It was deliciously sharp and vibrant on her tongue. She held it in her mouth a moment before swallowing it. "I can only have one glass," she murmured.

"Why? Its Friday night… Have some fun."

"I can't," Rachel replied matter-of-factly. "I have a race coming up, so I'm in training. Mike says I'm not to drink."

Helen was obviously unconvinced by the argument. "That's a shame… What race is it?"

Somehow Rachel managed to contain her surprise. In all the time they had known one another, Helen had never shown any interest in her running.

"It's nothing really; just a half marathon…up near Keswick."

"Wow…that sounds great… Are you going to win?"

"I doubt it, but I'll have a go."

Grabbing her glass, Helen drank lustily, never taking her gaze away from Rachel and suddenly Rachel recognised that old determination, like a smouldering fire behind Helen’s eyes. She was an ambitious woman, which had undoubtedly contributed to her astonishing success in the field of corporate law. She'd made partner in her law firm before she was 28 and ever since had adorned her career with one glittering success story after another. Of course, such achievements inevitably required sacrifices, as Rachel was all too aware. But that burning ambition invariably meant that Helen got exactly what she wanted and Rachel wondered what she wanted tonight.

"Mind if I come to watch you?"

Rachel almost dropped her glass. "Are you serious?"

"Sure why not? I've always wanted to see you compete."

Rachel regarded her carefully. Was this all an act, some wild gambit to impress her and ultimately win her back? "Helen...Three was never anything stopping you…You could have watched me any time you liked."

Helen looked away carelessly, waving her hand around in a circle. "Oh I realise that…but you know what it's like…I'm always so busy."

"Yes," Rachel replied flatly. "I remember."

Looking slightly uncomfortable, Helen drained her glass and reached into the ice bucket for the bottle. She topped up her own glass and then, before she could object, proceeded to fill Rachel's. "Hey…" Rachel objected. "I told you I can only have one."

"Sorry, " Helen said without much conviction. "I forgot."

Hoping she didn't look as aggravated as she was feeling, Rachel turned her attention to the menu, which was varied and exciting. There was even a sizeable vegetarian selection, which was unusual in this rural part of Lancashire. When the waiter returned, Rachel ordered Shallot and goat’s cheese tarte tatin, followed by a Soft Poached Hens Egg with Shiitake Mushroom Duxelle, Roasted Autumn Vegetables and Toasted Pumpkin Seeds. Helen ordered lobster bisque and then a rib-eye fillet with pepper sauce; exactly as Rachel would have predicted.

They waited for the food to arrive and she listened dutifully whilst Helen regaled her with amusing stories of office politics and her skirmishes in court. She was a charismatic, interesting woman and Rachel could understand why she had once found her so attractive. As the evening wore on, Rachel allowed herself to relax and as she drained her second glass of champagne, she decided that perhaps tonight wasn’t the night to test her tee- total resolve. When Helen filled her glass for the third time, she made no objection.

The food finally arrived and didn't disappoint. Rachel devoured every morsel, barely stopping to draw breath. Helen made fun of her appetite and they laughed as they compared dishes. It were almost as if the past twelve months had never happened, and they were just an ordinary couple, enjoying a romantic meal together.

“Shall I order another bottle?” Helen asked mischievously as the waiter arrived to clear the table. Rachel shook her head.

“I’d really better not. I’ve had more than enough already and I have to be up early tomorrow.

Scrutinising her closely, Helen leaned back in her seat. Her face was flushed from the wine, giving her a youthful glow. “Rachel... I have to tell you...I’m so impressed.”

Rachel shifted uncomfortably. “Impressed?...With what?”

“Your self-discipline and determination... It has always been the thing I most admire about you.” Suddenly she was serious. “...along with your beautiful smile and your lovely eyes.”

Under the table, Helen’s hand snaked across the seat and settled over Rachel’s own. Her palm was hot and moist.

“Helen...” Rachel whispered. “Please don’t...you promised me you wouldn’t do this.”

"I promised myself I wouldn't…but it's hard Rachel… Just being around you is hard."

Rachel looked up sharply, finding Helen's dark eyes, but struggled to read them. She had been the love of her life; something that would always be between them. At this moment, in this place, with Helen so close, the hold she had over Rachel was as powerful as it had ever been.

"Helen, " she said, forcing herself to be strong. "I don't want to talk about this again… This is not why I agreed to come here. I don’t want to go over old ground …not now or ever…it's too late!"

Helen frowned, her eyes falling to the table. "Don’t you love me anymore?"

"Helen! Stop it!"

"Please tell me!"

Rachel could feel the frustration tightening across her chest. How dare she ask that, after all this time, after what she had done?

"Helen! Have you forgotten what happened? I didn’t leave you… You cheated on me… with one of your clients…and now you're acting as if all this was my idea. You made your bed… You have to lie in it."

Helen rested her face in her hands, looking suddenly defeated. "But I didn’t cheat. Why won't you believe me? I know it looked bad…I don't blame you for doubting me… But honestly…I swear…Nothing happened."

Somehow, Helen always managed to raise doubts in Rachel's mind and, as usual, she found herself thinking back to that dreadful time; the early misgivings, the increasing doubt, the all-consuming suspicion, the arguments and eventually the split. Had she misread the signals; the secrecy, the late night phone calls, the curious messages? Rachel had believed then that Helen was unfaithful and nothing had really changed to alter her opinion now.

"Helen," she sighed. "I don't want to talk about… that. I can't bear it. I did love you… You know that… But now, I've moved on."

Helen's previous confidence had faded to nothing. "Is there someone else?"

Something squirmed in the pit of Rachel's stomach and she suddenly found it difficult to hold Helen's gaze. "I really don't think that's any of your…"

"Please tell me… If you've met someone else I'll know it’s really over and I can try to move on myself."

Rachel considered the question. Had she met someone else? Did one night with Ali, wonderful as it was, count as someone else? Not really. After all, she hadn’t had a word from her since she left the apartment that morning.

"There's no one else." She said softly. "But you need to move on all the same."

Helen drank the dregs of her champagne and pushed the empty glass away from her. "I'm not sure I can."

"Trust me, you can," Rachel said resolutely. "I had to."

When Rachel arrived back home that night, the apartment felt empty and silent. Mel was out and without her, the place seemed lonely.

She made herself a coffee and switched on the radio for company; something she hadn’t done since the months immediately after Helen's departure. It was a programme about deprivation and the impact on families in the UK; altogether too heavy for a Friday night. Sighing, she switched it off again and then, not bothering with the lamps, she left the kitchen and settled into her armchair, in the relative darkness of the sitting room.

There was no point denying that the evening had rattled her. It was one thing seeing Helen during the day, when she could keep her at a safe distance, but quite another sharing an intimate meal in a romantic place, with half a bottle of champagne inside her.

The worst part was listening to her pleading her innocence all over again. Her sincerity was disarming. Was it possible that she had in fact been mistaken? Could she really have thrown away their relationship on nothing more than an unfounded suspicion?

It was perhaps this small element of doubt that had been in her mind, as they waited outside the Printrooms for the taxis. Maybe that was why she had put up no resistance when Helen had kissed her softly on the mouth. Perhaps it explained why she had allowed herself to linger a little too long in the familiar fold of Helen's embrace, until finally common sense took over and she pulled away.

She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. What had she been thinking?

And where did Ali fit into all this? Being with Helen tonight felt somehow like a betrayal. The part of her that loved Helen had died long ago and in that place there was something new and terrifying. Rachel could not ignore the longing that was stirring inside her. It moved and writhed, causing physical pain, but that longing was not for Helen; it was for Ali.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Rachel pulled out her phone, but just as she expected, there were no messages. It was nothing more than she expected, but her heart sank all the same. Ali's behaviour was incomprehensible. All week, Rachel had waited patiently for her to call; but as each day passed, she slowly realised that she wasn't going to.

And the silence was deafening.

She briefly considered checking the landline, but quickly dismissed the idea. These days if anyone wanted to contact her, they would call her mobile or send an email. Nobody seemed to use the landlines anymore. She couldn't remember the last time the telephone had rung.

In an impulsive moment, Rachel decided to take the initiative and began composing a text message, but when the words wouldn’t come, she decided it was a sign, and, giving up on the idea, she switched off her phone and placed it on the table.

Rising wearily from the chair, Rachel left her drink untouched and made for the bedroom. If she got up an hour earlier than planned tomorrow, she could easily squeeze in an extra 6 miles before training started, so she may as well try to get some sleep.

She passed the answering machine without so much as a glance and consequently failed to notice the tiny number "1", blinking steadily on the screen.

Chapter 20

Willing herself to ignore the pain in her legs, Rachel rounded the final corner and the pub finally came into sight. With less than 200 metres to go, she had almost finished, but with so little left in her reserves, the distance seemed infinite. She knew that Steve and the others were somewhere behind her. Perhaps they were closing the gap; maybe they would fly past at any second. Determined to finish first, she somehow managed to push on again and she glanced sideways just as Mike drew alongside her on his bicycle. Having accompanied the group for the first four miles of the pace run, he had briefly drifted back to check the slower groups. At the same time, Rachel had decided to break away, opting to complete that last mile on her own. It probably wouldn’t go down well with the guys, not being entirely good etiquette to break up a training group like that, but she was feeling strong and needed to push herself. The race was only two days away and she wanted to be ready.

For a while Mike didn't speak, but even through the haze of her exhaustion, Rachel could feel his eyes on her, checking her form and clocking her pace against his GPS.

"Alright love…you’re looking good there. Keep going."

Rachel couldn't reply. Every breath she took was going directly to her screaming muscles and there was none to spare for talking. With a huge final effort, she accelerated again and for the last fifty metres, Rachel surprised herself with an unexpected blast of speed. She crossed the threshold into the pub forecourt and slowed to a standstill, gasping for breath and feeling slightly nauseous.

Mike followed her in, gradually braking to a stop. She turned to face him. He wasn't quite smiling, but there was something like excitement in his eyes and he nodded once, as if to say, “that'll do”.

She nodded back to him and then began to trot slowly around in a wide circle, willing her stomach to settle down.

Ten seconds later, Steve rounded the corner and dashed into car park, followed by the others. His face was purple and he too was struggling to breath. He slowed beside her and extended a hand for her to high-five him.

"Bloody…good… that…Rach…bloo…dy…fast," he somehow managed to wheeze. The others joined him in congratulating her and again she looked to Mike, who continued to watch her; apparently deep in thought. It had been an excellent training night. She had worked as hard as she could and deep down she knew she had never run as fast and strong as she was doing right now. She only hoped she hadn’t overdone it and that she had sufficient time to recover for the race. She needed to be fresh to perform at her best.

At the end of the session, Mike gathered all the athletes together for a briefing.

Rachel pulled on her sweater and hugged herself to keep warm. It was a dry evening, but cold and she could feel the chill creeping into her tired muscles.

"Well done!" Mike barked, his breath steaming out in front of him. "That was good work tonight… I can’t ask for any more than that… Those of you who are racing on Saturday, just hang about for a minute will you? We need to go over the final arrangements."

With Mike's voice droning somewhere in the back of her consciousness, Rachel's attention drifted. Yet again, Ali hadn't made an appearance. In fact she hadn’t trained at all since that Monday night, nearly two weeks before. Nor had she made any effort to contact anyone. The more Rachel thought about it, the more unreasonable it seemed. It was one thing to give Rachel the cold shoulder; if she didn’t want to see her again, that was up to her, but she was supposed to be running in the women's team on Saturday! Talk about letting the side down! Rachel hadn't taken her to be unreliable. It just showed how wrong you could be about a person. Something like anger stirred inside her and she embraced the feeling readily. Besides, anger felt a lot better than rejection.

"Rachel," Mike said loudly, bringing her attention back to him. "I need to talk to you. The rest of you can go. See you on Saturday."

Rachel dutifully joined him and he stepped in closer, so only she could hear what he was saying. His face was rosy from the cold air and, in contrast, his blue eyes seemed brighter than usual. He danced nervously from one foot to the other, hugging his chest to keep warm. "Are you all set for the weekend?"

"I think so," Rachel said, aware that her voice was shaking slightly.

"You've really worked hard tonight. You need to take it easy now until Saturday."

"I know."

"No running tomorrow…at all!"

"Okay," Rachel agreed reluctantly.

"Make sure you get a good meal on Friday night. Pack in the carbs, but avoid dairy."

"I know Mike. I will." Rachel and Mike had this same conversation before every important race. It was part of the ritual and she knew it was as much for his benefit as hers. He scratched his head noisily, and pursed his lips in thought. "I've been thinking about your strategy for the race."

Rachel nodded and listened.

"I don’t want you to go out hard. Let Jodi set the pace, but run your own race. I was thinking you should try and stick to around 6 minute miles. Don’t dip under that until about half way and then if you feel strong you can pick it up."

"Okay," Rachel agreed.

"Even if she shoots off and you lose sight of her, don’t panic. There's a real bastard of a hill at mile 6 and you need to conserve your energy until it's behind you…then you can rip it up all you like."

Rachel considered this plan for a moment. "What if she goes off conservative too?"

"She won't," Mike said with a knowing smile. "After that last race, she's running scared. She knows you're fitter than her and she'll not be able to resist going out hard and fast…. Just let her get on with it. Act as if she isn’t there. She'll lose pace on the hill and wear herself out. Then you can pick her up and drop her…Easy peasy."

If only, Rachel mused, but smiled confidently all the same.

"Okay," she said and he squeezed her good arm affectionately.

"This is your chance Rachel…Don't blow it."

She was about to re-assure him that she wouldn't, when they were both disturbed by the sound of a car turning into the car park. Rachel's breath caught in her throat and she felt her heart skip a beat. Mike narrowed his eyes as Ali’s Land Rover careered into the car park too fast, his expression never changing. "About bloody time too," he mumbled to nobody in particular.

Rachel watched transfixed as Ali jumped from the car, still dressed in her work clothes, and dashed across the car park to join them. Her pale hair was unkempt and fell across her face, but still she managed to look fresh and appealing, in black trousers and white shirt; sleeves rolled up to the elbow. As she joined them, she turned to Rachel and offered a reluctant smile. Instantly, Rachel felt the pull of her eyes, but managed to look away without returning the gesture.

"I'm so sorry coach," Ali said, her voice husky with fatigue. "Work has been crazy. I'm glad I managed to catch you."

Mike didn’t answer straight away and seemed to be appraising the situation.

Ali was embarrassed by his silence and when Rachel looked at her again, she found she was blushing slightly. "Do you still want me to run on Saturday?"

"That depends," Mike said, his voice devoid of expression. "Are you fit?"

Ali nodded quickly, looking as if she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. "Yes…I've been training…I just couldn't make these sessions. I've been running everyday…on my own mostly."

Mostly? Rachel wondered who she had been training with the rest of the time.

Mike pursed his lips. "You’re still in the team…So if you're available, I want you to run….But next time, if you don’t train…you’re out."

"Okay." Ali said, her face softened by a smile. "I'm sorry coach." She turned her attention to Rachel and there was something unreadable in her expression; regret maybe. "Hi Rachel. How are you?”

“Fine.”

She paused, looking nervous. “Can I still travel with you at the weekend?"

"Sure," Rachel heard herself say, her tone unmistakably cold. Ali smiled, but again, there was something beneath her eyes that Rachel couldn’t ignore. "If you really want to. Or I could just give you the directions."

Ali considered this offer. "If it's okay with you, I'd appreciate a lift."

Rachel nodded and began to back away. "Fine, " she said breezily. "It makes no difference to me either way." She tried not to notice the shadow of disappointment that crept across Ali's face.  "Be at my house at 7 am…and don't be late."

Chapter 21

Rachel woke with a start and sitting bolt upright in bed, she stared into the blackness. The wind moaned around the building, filling the air with hollow murmurs and outside the rain clattered against the windowpane. She looked to her clock and saw with dismay that it was 3am. Why could she never sleep properly the night before a race? Why were her dreams always so frantic? Collapsing back on to the pillow, she allowed herself to linger over the remnants of the nightmare that still hovered at the edge of her memory.

As always she was in the woods, being hotly pursued by something unspeakable, but on this occasion, there was the added dimension of her being dressed in a wedding gown and a pair of stilettos. As if the situation wasn't serious enough, she appeared to have lost the ability to move her legs and was crawling through the undergrowth at a snail's pace

Groaning, Rachel turned on to her side and wondered what Freud would make of her sub-conscious ramblings.  He would probably have her committed.

She steadied her breathing and made an effort to relax. She had to be up in three hours to eat and prepare herself, but despite her efforts, Ali's face popped into her head. She tried to push the image away, but it remained determinedly and, groaning, she rolled on to her other side, fluffing the pillow with unnecessary force. She was tired, but her mind was now alert and racing.

She squeezed her eyes shut and began to count sheep, but even this process seemed doomed, as, almost immediately, the fluffy animals leaping over the fence morphed into tiny versions of Ali, all wearing their doctor's coats, and for some reason waving syringes in the air.

It was going to be a long night.

***

Rachel opened her eyes to see Mel's worried face peering down at her. Somewhere in the distance, bells were chiming and the room seemed brighter than it should.

It took a moment for the situation to register in her mind, but when it did, she jerked upright, almost crashing into Mel.

"Bloody hell! What time is it?"

Mel jumped back in alarm. "Quarter to seven…Are you going to turn that bloody alarm off or what? It's been going for over an hour."

"Oh God! Why didn’t you wake me? I have to leave in fifteen minutes."

Mel perched on the end of the bed and watched as Rachel scampered around the room in a daze, clumsily pulling pieces of kit from the drawers and wardrobe. "I did wonder. You've got that race today haven’t you?"

"Yes…And I barely slept last night…I had the most ridiculous dreams."

Mel frowned in sympathy. "I can tell. You look dreadful!" Rachel turned to face Mel and noticed for the first time that she was fully dressed in skinny jeans and a matching Ralph Lauren sweater and gilet. Her hair had been styled and her face was perfectly made up. Rachel stopped for a second. "Why are you up so early?"

Mel's smile was quizzical, as if the question was ridiculous. "I had to get ready…obviously."

"For what?"

"For the trip…to the Lake District…With you and Steve… To cheer you on."

"When was that decided?"

"At the pub last week…You don’t mind do you?"

Rachel considered this. She didn’t really object; although it was going to be difficult squeezing the four of them into her beetle.

"No…It's fine… But it's not a pleasure trip you know…This is serious."

Mel smiled and nodded. "I know. I know. But we will have time for shopping and a bite to eat won’t we?"

Rachel glared at her. "No!"

***

Ten minutes later, Rachel had somehow managed to shower, pack and eat breakfast, but she was still horrified when she heard the buzzer, signalling the arrival of the others.

"Jesus Christ!" she yelled, to nobody in particular, and hauling her bag over her shoulder, she ran toward the hallway.

Mel must have been waiting by the intercom and Rachel arrived just in time to hear her telling someone that they were "on their way."

She placed the handset back in its cradle and turned to face her. "Steve and Ali are waiting outside."

Rachel’s pulse was already racing, but just the mention of Ali's name caused it to pick up again.

"Okay," she replied, in as calm a voice as she could muster. "Let's go then."

Mel studied her carefully. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she snapped.

***

Outside, the wind was howling and the rain fell in fat, swollen drops. Ali and Steve stood huddled by the wall, their waterproof jackets, zipped right up to their chins.

"Morning," Steve said brightly, as they emerged through the front door. "Nice day for it."

"Morning," Rachel replied, sending Ali a clumsy smile and then hurrying toward the car. The three of them followed her dutifully, but she sensed their reticence as they moved nearer to the vehicle.

"Er… Don't take this wrong, Rach," Steve mumbled, "but will we all fit in there?"

Rachel glared at him. "Of course we will."

But Ali didn’t look convinced either. "Would you like me to go home and get my car too?...I mean…Should you really be driving with a cast on!"

"We don’t have time for this!" Rachel snapped, wondering why she had agreed to transport so many people on such an important day. "We have to leave right now! Besides I've been driving with my arm in a cast for weeks."

Apparently too afraid to object, they accepted and, with some difficulty, the four of them piled into the car. There wasn't sufficient space in the boot for their luggage and so Ali and Mel, who were much smaller than Steve, volunteered to sit in the back, with the kit bags on their knees.

As Rachel gunned the engine, she checked the rear view mirror only to find Ali, peering back at her, over the top of her Puma rucksack. Their eyes held a moment and Ali's crinkled at the corners, causing Rachel's heart to surge in her chest. Quickly she turned her attention to the road, although it was difficult to see it, through the increasingly clouded windscreen. Sighing irritably, Rachel turned the de-mister to full blast, deafening them all with a gust of cold air.

"Could you all stop breathing please," she shouted, only partly as a joke.

Steve regarded her with amusement. "You’re in a great mood this morning."

"Hmmm." She mumbled.

"She didn’t sleep very well," Mel piped up from somewhere in the back. She wasn't visible at all from behind the two holdalls she was carrying. "Always has nightmares before a race…Don’t you Rach."

Rachel cringed. Ali didn’t need to know what a total head-case she was. "Not before every race," she objected.

"You told me that you did!" Steve chimed in.

Rachel's face burned and she quickly turned on the radio, before accelerating too fast out of the car park and onto the main road.

"Does anyone know the way?" she yelled, over the deafening crackle of the stereo.

Nobody replied.

"Oh come on!" she complained. "Somebody must know how to get there?"

There was a long pause.

"Where are we going?" Mel's disembodied voice eventually asked from the backseat.

"Keswick!" Rachel gasped.

"I know the way to the town centre…" Ali began tentatively.

Rachel sighed with relief.

"But I'm not sure where registration is." She continued.  "Mike said it was at a scout hut somewhere…A few miles out of town."

"Jesus Christ!" Rachel objected loudly.

"Don't worry about it!" Steve offered, somewhat unhelpfully.

"Yeah Rach," Mel agreed. "Don’t worry so much…How hard can it be?"

***

"This is a disaster," Rachel almost sobbed, as they rounded the corner and the same village came into view for the third time. "We've been here before."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, looking up from the map, to the tiny village before them. It was an idyllic picture, even through the dismal wash of Cumbria rain. The village was little more than a hamlet of houses, spiralling away from a central terrace built entirely from the distinctive, grey slate of the region. But at that precise moment, Rachel couldn’t feel anything but loathing for it.

"I'm certain," she growled, gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.

"She's right you know!" Mel observed. "I recognise that coffee shop…It looks lovely doesn’t it. Have we got time to stop for a cappuccino?"

"NO!" Rachel and Ali yelled in unison.

Mel paused. "Not even a small one?"

Rachel was too angry to speak, but Ali explained that the race started in 40 minutes and they still needed to find the start, register, get changed and warm up.

For a moment Mel didn’t reply, but when she did, her voice was shrill with annoyance. "Some holiday this is turning out to be!"

Steve laughed and Rachel thought for a moment she might punch him, but somehow she managed to control herself.

Rachel was about to point out to Mel that this was not supposed to be a holiday, but actually one of the most important races in her God Damn life, when Steve suddenly yelled and pointed to a small junction to the left.

"LOOK!" he shouted, nearly causing Rachel to swerve into a ditch. "There's a sign over there."

Mel followed his finger and sure enough, tied to a lamppost, there was a small yellow sign, which read, "RACE REGISTRATION".

"Thank fuck for that!" Ali said, surprising everyone.

Chapter 22

“About bloody time!” Mike barked, lumbering toward them as they hurried from the registration hut.

“Sorry Mike,” Steve shouted over the wind. “We got lost.”

“Yeah... Sorry!” Rachel mumbled, struggling with one hand to pierce the race number with a safety pin.

“There’s no point being bloody sorry!” Mike was red in the face and his eyes, wide and staring. “Just get to the bloody start and warm up! The race starts in five minutes.”

Leaving Mel and Mike huddled together under an enormous umbrella, the three of them made their way toward a large crowd of athletes gathering at the far side of the field. “Shit!” Rachel cursed, dropping her number and safety pins into the mud. She was about to retrieve them, when Ali swooped down and hurriedly gathered them up for her. Standing upright, she turned to face Rachel and gently took hold of her arm. Rachel stopped in her tracks.  “Let me help you,” she said, her voice soft with concern.

Rachel tried to act casual as Ali moved in and began pinning the number to her saturated vest; but as she watched her hands working methodically, something stirred inside her and she sighed. Ali looked up. The rain was now driving horizontally in great gusts and she was soaked to the skin. Her hair was flattened to her head and rivulets of rain streamed down her face. She laughed nervously. “Are you alright?” she asked gently.

“I think so,” Rachel replied, holding Ali’s fierce blue eyes far longer than she should have.

Ali leaned in even closer and whispered against her cheek. “Don’t be scared...You’re amazing.”

Rachel could only smile as Ali stepped back and regarded her. They stood like that for a moment, watching one another and smiling. Ali looked as if she might say something else, but they were interrupted by Steve’s impatient voice, further along the path. “Hey! Are we running this race or what?”

Breaking apart, they rushed to catch him and covered the remaining distance to the start line in silence.

By the time they arrived, there wasn’t much time for a warm up and leaving the others to their own preparations, Rachel sprinted down the narrow lane, which snaked away from the start line for quarter of a mile. It was a lot less than she would normally do and for a race as big as this, she would usually insist on at least two miles of gentle jogging followed by a mile of intervals. Today, there simply wasn’t the time and she knew she would have to settle for a quick run out and back; which she supposed was better than nothing at all.

Rachel didn’t consider herself especially superstitious, but for reasons she couldn’t explain, all her common sense flew right out of the window on race day. She had a fixed routine that she followed religiously, including the particular breakfast that she ate, the shorts and trainers she raced in; even the perfume that she wore. Her warm-up was part of the ritual, and the fact that today of all days, she had to break the routine, was as much a psychological blow as a physical one. And as if that weren’t bad enough, she didn’t feel great; her legs felt unusually heavy and her wrist was aching in a way that it hadn’t since she first injured it. Perhaps Ali had been right when she advised her against driving all his way. She wasn’t supposed to be driving at all. A quick fifteen minute route to work was one thing; but two hours on motorway and winding country roads was quite another. And she felt tired. Three hours of broken sleep was hardly the ideal preparation for a race.

Reaching a bend in the road, she decided she had better turn back and as she headed for the start, she spotted Jodi Samuels in the distance. She was poised, ready to begin and looked dangerously lean and focussed. Rachel’s stomach lurched with a kind of dread and as the adrenalin coursed through her veins, her pace quickened. Almost at the start, she noticed a woman standing by the side of the road. She was snuggly wrapped in a navy jacket, sporting the GB logo and a small Union Jack. It could only be Carol Wilson, who watched impassively as Rachel trotted by. She felt another zing of excitement and she accelerated again, suddenly eager to take her place on the start-line.

A bustling throng of athletes were gathered right across the road and she had to jostle to find a good spot at the front. Her heart was hammering and the blood sang in her ears. She really needed to calm down and focus. A bit of adrenalin was inevitable and could even be an advantage, but being as wired as this was a problem. Rachel knew that it would be hard to find the right pace, when she was so psyched and so, concentrating on her breathing, she tried to remember what Mike had said to her about the race strategy.

Looking to her left, she studied Jodi Samuels. She stood perfectly still, her eyes fixed dead ahead and her expression serious. She didn’t seem aware of the runners pushing and pacing all around her or the buffeting wind and rain. Worried by her rival’s composure, Rachel looked beyond, to where Steve was bouncing nervously. Catching Rachel’s eye he waved and mouthed, “Good luck”.

Craning her neck around, she peered back through the crowd and managed to catch sight of Jane and Gill, both looking drenched and anxious, and then, she spotted Ali; positioned well back in the pack, almost hidden by two solid looking guys in Wigan vests. Seeing Rachel searching for her, she beamed and Rachel felt herself relax slightly. She waved, in what she hoped was an encouraging way, and then returned her attention to the road ahead of her.

At that exact moment, a slim guy in a khaki wind-cheater stepped forward. He was carrying a loud speaker and a starter’s pistol.  Pressing his mouth to the speaker, he began welcoming the athletes and explaining the finer points of the route, but Rachel wasn’t really listening. Her mind was cluttered with pacing plans and strategies and mental pictures of Jodi Samuels in a GB vest. She knew that this was her big chance, but she wasn’t sure that she was ready. She wasn’t sure that she would ever be ready.

Rachel barely registered the man counting down from three and raising the pistol in the air, but when he finally pulled the trigger, she bolted from the line as if the devil himself were after her.

Chapter 23

With the wind and rain driving directly against her, Rachel tore at the road ahead. All round her, the runners surged forward and a handful of elite men passed by, racing for position. She let them go. She wasn’t competing with the men. Her only concern was Jodi Samuels. Falling into what felt like the right pace, Rachel waited for her adversary to come past, but much to her surprise, she didn’t appear and Rachel held her place at the front.

Almost immediately the crowd began to thin, as the runners found their own stride and the better athletes forged ahead. Rachel soon found herself running alone and was slightly surprised to be leaving most of the field behind.

Half a mile in and she was beginning to wonder what was happening. She didn’t feel like she was moving especially fast and Jodi should have caught up by now, but there was still no sign of her. She stole a look over her shoulder and saw the runners stretched out in a broken trail behind her. Jodi Samuel’s was approximately 200 metres back and apparently making no move to close the distance between them. She looked like she was struggling.

Rachel on the other hand, felt strong and relaxed. Her previous lethargy had all but gone. Deciding to go with it, she fell into a steady rhythm. The only problem was the powerful headwind, which had picked up again, and was definitely slowing her down. Unwilling to take any chances, she cranked up her pace ever so slightly, immediately aware of the increased tension in her arms and legs.  It was uncomfortable, but bearable and she blocked out the pain and began counting her strides.

A few minutes later and she spotted the first mile marker in the distance; a bright yellow sign, tied to a lamppost, marked with the number “1”. As it flashed by, she quickly checked her watch and was shocked to find that she had come through the first mile in 5:30, a full 30 seconds faster than Mike had advised.

She needed to slow down.

Trying to relax, Rachel steadied her nerve and concentrated on how she felt. Her legs were aching slightly and her breathing was a little more hectic than she would have liked, but otherwise she felt alright. Stealing another glance backward, she saw that Jodi had fallen even further behind and was now almost out of sight. Rachel felt a wave of confidence and quickly decided to take a chance at holding the pace. She had never come close to running as fast as this before, let alone over this distance, but she had been training hard and was stronger than she had ever been. She might just make it.

By the time Rachel passed the 3rd mile marker, the wind was almost gale force and she felt as if she were running through water. Somehow, she held on and continued to push through at the same pace. The glorious Lakeland scenery towered over her on all sides; rolling vales and craggy peaks swallowed up into the swollen cloud overhead, but she had no interest in her surroundings. All she could think about was her speed and how her body felt and getting to the finish line first.

There were no other runners in sight and the terrible conditions had driven away any potential spectators; so Rachel continued alone, a solitary figure struggling through the icy rain with nothing except the monotonous stride count echoing in her brain.

She continued that way for a further three miles, doggedly following the twisting country lanes of Cumbria, periodically checking her watch and over her shoulder for potential threats to her lead. But there wasn’t another soul in sight, aside from the occasional race marshal who would wave her in the correct direction and shout encouragement. As she passed mile 6 the lane began to climb gently and suddenly she remembered what Mike had told her about the hill. She hoped she had left enough in her legs and decided to slow down slightly. As the road wheeled around a bend and the full extent of the climb came into view, Rachel realised what was facing her. It wasn’t a hill; but a mountain! The road twisted sharply upward at an impossible angle and seemed to continue straight up as far as the eye could see.

And Rachel was tiring.

She didn’t want to admit it; she didn’t want to allow any negative thoughts to creep into her mind, but there was no denying it. Her thighs and calves were tightening more with every passing minute, her feet were stinging from pounding the road and her whole upper body was aching. As if that weren’t bad enough, her plastered arm felt heavy and sore. Maybe racing today had been a mistake.

Climbing the hill, Rachel knew without looking to her watch that she was slowing down. She tried to press on, but her legs were leaden with fatigue and half a mile up the hill, she was practically walking. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts and she felt nauseous. Just putting one foot in front of the other began to feel like a massive effort and Rachel gritted her teeth, summoning every ounce of willpower just to keep running. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the fact that she hadn’t warmed up properly, or maybe it was because she had trained too hard this week. Whatever the explanation, Rachel knew she was in trouble and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. 

And then she heard it; the familiar sound of footfalls behind her. Another runner was approaching, their feet slapping loudly on the flooded tarmac. She could tell from the breathing and the weight of the footsteps that it was a man. But even if she had wanted to look back, she didn’t have the energy. All she could do was drag herself relentlessly onward, toward the crest of the hill. Too soon the athlete came bounding past her. He looked fresh and unaffected by the cruel gradient. Rachel tried to respond, thinking it might be easier to hold pace if she could join another runner for a while, but there was no chance of her matching him and she could only watch helpless, as he disappeared into the rain.

The hill began to flatten out at mile 8, and slowly Rachel felt the life returning to her body, but by that point at least ten more runners had whipped past, leaving her more disheartened than ever. Her one consolation was that she still hadn’t seen Jodi Samuels and she knew that at some point soon there must be a long descent where she could make up the time that she had lost climbing.

Sure enough, by the time the 9th mile marker came into view, the road seemed to be dropping slowly and Rachel welcomed the surge of speed that gravity was offering her. The narrow lane swept down the hillside, like a slick ribbon snaking across a rough carpet of red bracken and heather. Allowing herself to be swept downhill, she checked her watch again. She was now holding an average pace of 6:30. She should be capable of more than that on a downhill stretch, but as the road dipped even more sharply she was still unable to pick up her pace. And at that moment Rachel knew that she had made a stupid mistake; the mistake that every runner dreaded, setting out at a pace that was unsustainable. She was exhausted and felt as if she were running flat out, when actually she was slowing down. Her only chance now was that she had put sufficient distance between herself and Jodi in that first 6 miles, to hold her off. All she could do was hang on until the finish and hope for the best.

At the base of the hill, a friendly marshal waved her left and she followed the road into dense woodland. Here the route began to undulate steadily and continued that way for a further three miles. Rachel kept going, pushing herself forward and trying to stay positive, as the autumn foliage on either side passed in a blur of russet and gold. But as the road burst free from the forest and swept into the vast Borrowdale Valley, she could feel the fatigue coming again. There was only a mile to go now, but the distance felt impossible and for just a moment, with every muscle in her body screaming, she considered stopping altogether. Then she heard it again; the sound of a runner approaching and this time she knew without looking that it was Jodi Samuels.

Unable to resist, she peeped over her shoulder and sure enough she was there, about 50 metres behind and closing fast. She was red in the face and her arms were pumping hard, but there was a terrifying determination in her eyes. Rachel’s heart sank. Somehow though, the knowledge that her main rival was approaching gave her another surge of energy and she managed to accelerate slightly. She wasn’t sure it would be enough to hold Jodi off until the line, but she had to try.

Rounding the next corner, the crowds came into view, and Rachel knew the finish was less than 300 metres away. She checked again and now Jodi was almost upon her; close enough so Rachel could hear her breathing. She pushed on again, but now Jodi drew alongside. She looked fresh, whilst Rachel was hurting all over. They stayed like that for a while, neck and neck, neither one of them able to forge ahead. Rachel had no idea how fast they were moving, but knew she was using every shred of her energy and more, just to keep pace. She was flat out; with nothing left to give and suddenly the finish line seemed too far away.

Jodi edged ahead a pace and Rachel tried to go with her, but couldn’t. Her body felt frail and hollow, and when Jodi began to pull further away there was nothing Rachel could do about it. She knew at the moment that the race was lost and with nothing left to fight for, she took her foot off the gas and watched desolately as Jodi sped into the distance, leaving Rachel trailing in her wake.

With the cheers of the crowds resonating in her ears, Rachel watched Jodi cross the finish line first, 50 metres ahead of her, immediately to be mobbed by a crowd of her supporters. Rachel trotted after her, gingerly crossing the finish line second and then, doubling over, she threw up. 

Chapter 24

“It’s not a total disaster!” Mike said, his ruddy face peering out from the anorak hood that had been fastened too tightly around it. Rachel looked at him sheepishly, almost too tired to be disappointed.

“That’s nice of you Mike, but I don’t know how you can say that. I did exactly the opposite of what you told me and messed the whole thing up.”

Mike crossed his arms across his chest. “That’s true...but it’s not the end of the world. You still ran a PB didn’t you?”

“I suppose.” Rachel shrugged wearily.

“There you go then.”

“But I lost the race...Jodi beat me...And I’m pretty sure Carol Wilson won’t be calling me any time soon.”

Now it was Mike’s turn to shrug. “Who knows...Anyway...It’s only a bloody race...You did alright. You were still second and you race faster than you ever have before...Next time just try and listen to what I’m telling you.”

“Okay,” Rachel agreed.

Mike rested a heavy arm around her shoulder and spoke with uncharacteristic gentleness. “Anyway, you gave it your best shot...I can’t ask for any more than that... And we still have the championships...That’s the one that really counts...Now go and get some warm clothes on.” Rachel’s kit was saturated and the air had developed a wintry chill. Standing beside the finish, with the excited crowds milling around her, she had barely noticed how cold she was, but suddenly realised that she was trembling.

“But I can’t Mike... I have to watch the others come in...Has Steve finished yet...and what about Ali?”

Mike regarded her curiously. “Steve finished just after you did...Ali won’t be in for a while yet...Go and get out of those wet clothes... Now!”

“But...”

“Just do it Rachel...before you catch your death.”

“Alright,” she conceded unwillingly. “Where’s Mel by the way? I thought she’d be at the finish.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “She went for a cappuccino.”

***

By the time Rachel had showered and changed, the majority of the runners had finished, including Ali. She now stood with Mike and Steve by the changing tent door, looking flushed and happy, in spite of her bedraggled state.

Seeing Rachel emerge, her face lit up. “Hey! Well done!” she said, with genuine enthusiasm.

Rachel joined the group and scowled. “Commiserations more like.”

Ali looked aghast. “Hardly... Mike said you had a brilliant race.”

Rachel glared at Mike. “Did he also tell you that I lost?”

“Bloody hell love...” Mike laughed loudly. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. She only beat you by a few seconds. Besides, there’ll be other races.”

Rachel chose not to reply and instead turned her attention to Ali. “How did you do?”

“Not bad...I ran a PB too...and I think I was in the top fifty.”

“That’s great Ali!” Rachel replied sincerely, feeling guilty that she hadn’t been there when she finished. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Does anyone know where Mel is?” Steve said suddenly.

“Yes,” Rachel sighed. “She went for coffee .... Not much of a cheerleader is she...Although I’ve no idea where she will get a drink around here... Being as we’re in the middle of nowhere!”

“That’s exactly what she said,” Mike said pleasantly. “That’s why she took your car.”

Rachel turned slowly to face him, thinking she must have misheard. “She did what?”

***

With the last of the runners finished and everyone showered and changed, they gathered in the scout hut for the presentations. It was a miserable, damp building, typical of its kind, where a few plastic chairs had been laid out before an elevated stage area and an old lady was serving watery tea from behind a serving hatch. The Stanley Striders, huddled in a corner at the back, watching the proceedings through a haze of steam.

“Bloody hell!...Where is she?” Rachel hissed.

“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Steve suggested, although he didn’t look convinced.

“But she’s been gone for over an hour!”

“I know,” Ali agreed gently. “But perhaps she found a nice coffee shop and bought a paper or something. I’m sure its nothing to worry about.”

Rachel raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Clearly you haven’t seen her drive.”

At that moment they were interrupted by the arrival of the race organiser; who was climbing painfully onto the stage. In his early fifties, he had the chiselled look of a fell-runner, and his handsome face was nut brown and creased with deep lines. He made the usual announcements, thanking everyone that he needed to, and proceeding quickly to the prize giving. He began with the men and was just about to read out the winner’s name, when the back door to the hut burst open and everyone in the room turned around to look. Mel stood in the doorway, dishevelled and wild-eyed, her legs caked in mud. Behind her the naked autumn trees thrashed wildly in the wind and she staggered inside, pulling the door closed behind her. A gentle murmur rippled across the room as everyone, except Rachel returned their attention to the stage. Spotting her, Mel pushed her way forward and Rachel knew from her expression that something was seriously wrong. When she finally arrived, she stood before Rachel awkwardly, wringing her hands and frowning.

“Are you alright?” Rachel gasped, wondering what the hell had happened.

“ Rachel... I really need to talk to you... It’s about your car!”

***

The five of them stood at the side of the road, gazing down into waterlogged ditch, where Rachel’s beetle was now wedged at an impossible angle. Its nose was half-buried in the gushing torrent, and the rear end poked up almost vertically, the wheels completely free from the ground. The weather was worsening by the second; great swathes of rain lashed across them and the wind whipped at their waterproof jackets.

“Bloody hell Melanie!” Mike said, scratching his chin. “How did you manage that?”

Rachel waited impatiently for her response, but Mel couldn’t look at her and was half-hiding behind Steve. “I...I don’t know exactly... I must have misjudged the bend.”

As one, they looked up to inspect the bend in question, but the road at this point was wide and straight and how Mel had misjudged anything sufficiently to end up driving off the road was anybody’s guess. Blushing, Mel sidled even further out of sight.

Rachel wandered to the edge of the dyke and peered in. It was fairly obvious that it wasn’t going to be possible to reverse the car out of there. They would have to get some help. “I’m really sorry Rach...” Mel squeaked.  “I’ll pay whatever it costs to fix it.”

Still too angry to talk to her friend, Rachel turned her attention to Mike. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any rope in your car?”

He shook his head. “Even if I did, I couldn’t pull you out of there. You better ring for a rescue service.”

Rachel closed her eyes a moment and counted to ten. This was so typical of Mel. Taking a deep breath, she circled around Steve and with nowhere left to hide, Mel peered up at her, with wide, doe-eyes. She looked as if she might cry. “Mel,” Rachel said, her voice quivering with the effort of self-control. Mel winced, apparently preparing herself for the worst. “Don’t...ever...take my car without permission again!”

 “Okay,” she mumbled to her shoes.

Resigned to her fate, Rachel reached into her pocket and retrieved the keys to her apartment and her mobile phone. She handed the keys to Mel, who accepted them tentatively. “Mike...Can you please give these lot a ride home?... I’d better stay and sort this mess out.” Mike agreed, but Rachel cursed as she realised that there was no network out here and her phone was about as much use as a brick.

Seeing her problem, Steve checked his own phone quickly, lifting it up above his head, as if that might make a difference. “Bollocks! Mine’s flat too...I saw a hotel about half a mile back along this road...There’s bound to be a phone.”

Sighing, Rachel nodded her consent and shrugged her bag further on to her shoulder.

“Shall I come with you?” Steve offered, although his tone lacked enthusiasm.

“Nah ...No point in us all being stranded... You lot jump in with Mike. I’ll see you when I see you.”

Ali stepped forward then. “Rachel...I don’t mind waiting with you...” but Rachel shook her head quickly.

“Oh no!  You get yourself home. Besides, I’ve no idea how long I’ll be.... Thanks though.”

They said their goodbyes and with the cold rain stinging her face, Rachel headed wearily back to find a telephone.

Chapter 25

The Boar’s Head Inn, was a silver, slate building, standing alone just back from the main road that ran from the busy market town of Keswick into the desolate valleys of the Northern Lakes. Behind the hotel, the soaring crags of the Derwent Fells reared up majestically, their auburn steps sprinkled with green boughs of pine and the skeletal branches of horse-chestnut, almost stripped bare by autumn’s relentless onslaught.

As Rachel trudged around the corner and the inn came into view, she sighed with relief. The race had been hard and disappointing and the last thing she needed was the exhausting ordeal of trying to find a mechanic out here in the wilds of Cumbria, but right now, she didn’t have a lot of choice.

The smell of woodsmoke lifted her spirits slightly and as she gazed at the inviting glow emanating from the inn’s mullioned windows, she took some comfort in the knowledge that she could at least shelter from the rain for a while and warm herself by an open fire.

Inside, the inn was just as she might have expected. The foyer was elegant, but cosy, with a low, beamed ceiling and oak-panelled walls. Sumptuous chairs sat before a wide, granite fireplace, where holly logs popped and fizzed agreeably. It was warm inside and the smell of cooking and coffee seemed to permeate everything.

The receptionist looked up with alarm as Rachel pushed her way through the heavy front doors. The woman’s reaction was hardly surprising, considering her dishevelled appearance; a drenched, desperate figure, stepping in from the storm. 

In contrast, the receptionist was immaculately dressed in a crisp blouse and striped waistcoat, upon which a small brass badge had been pinned neatly to her lapel, announcing that she was “Marjorie” and was the “Assistant Manager”. Marjorie’s greying hair had been pulled back into a plait, apparently with such force that her eyes had developed a slightly feline tilt.

“Can I help you?” she asked Rachel with more hostility than might be expected, as she sloshed across the deep, tartan carpet toward her.

Dropping her bag to the floor, Rachel slouched across the desk, choosing to ignore the woman’s expression of horror. “I really hope so,” she gasped. “Could I possibly use your telephone?”

The woman paused. “I’m sorry?” she asked eventually. Her accent had the unmistakable lilt of the region; a local.

Rachel wondered if the woman was hard of hearing and when she spoke again, she raised her voice ever so slightly. “Your phone! Please can I use it?”

“There’s no need to shout! I heard you the first time... Are you a resident here?”

Rachel shook her head angrily. “Do I look like a resident?”

Affronted, the woman crossed her arms across her chest. “Well I’m very sorry...But you can’t use the telephone unless you’re a resident. We can’t just have any old Tom, Dick or Harry wandering in off the street using our facilities.”

“What about it I buy a cup of tea?” Rachel offered, aware of the desperation in her voice.

The woman was about to reply, when she was distracted by the front doors opening again, and Rachel peered around in time to see Ali staggering inside. She stamped her feet on the mat, sending rain-water spraying in all directions and, seeing Rachel, she smiled and waved. Rachel thought perhaps she had never been so happy to see anyone in her whole life and beamed as Ali crossed to join her at the desk.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying not to look as grateful as she felt.

“There wasn’t enough room in Mike’s car, so I thought I’d come and wait with you.” She sounded sincere, but Rachel noticed she was keen to avoid eye contact. “So,” she said brightly. “Did you manage to call a garage?”

“Not yet...Marjorie won’t let me use the telephone.”

They both turned to glare at the receptionist, who was staring at them wild -eyed, as if they were some species she hadn’t yet encountered and didn’t entirely understand.

“Really?” Ali said, her voice heavy with disapproval. “Why ever not?”

“Because she’s not a resident!” Marjorie hissed, “...and unless I’m very much mistaken, neither are you!”

Ali considered this for a few seconds and then smiling, she leaned conspiratorially across the desk. “The thing is Marjorie,” she began, her voice dripping with charm. “My friend’s car... was ...stolen...by a joy-rider... they crashed it into a ditch about half a mile down the road...We really need to get a mechanic out here...It’s an emergency... Could you please make an exception...just this once?... We’d really appreciate it.”

Marjorie narrowed her eyes, but something in her demeanour softened slightly. “It wasn’t a yellow Beetle was it?” she asked.

They both nodded.

Marjorie’s eyes flashed with anger. “I saw her!” she announced. “Driving like a maniac she was... and putting on her lipstick at the same time...Nearly ran me over!”

“Did she now?” Rachel replied, making a mental note to kill Mel when she saw her.

The receptionist slid the phone toward Rachel and smiled thinly. “ I suppose I can make an exception... just this once mind! ...But I don’t fancy your chances. It’s gone six o clock! I don’t think anyone will come out now until the morning.”

Rachel groaned and dropped her face into her hands. “Oh god!” she mumbled. “What are we going to do?”

Ali squeezed her arm gently. “I’m not sure... I’ll think of something.” and then, apparently she did think of something and glanced up at Marjorie.

“I don’t suppose you have any rooms for tonight do you?”

***

Ali and Rachel gazed down at the solitary brass key, lying on the reception desk. “Take it or leave it!’ Marjorie said indifferently. “It’s all we have left...You’re very lucky we have anything at all! Autumn is one of our busiest times.”

Ali glanced up at Rachel, looking slightly nervous. “What do you think?”

She looked from the room key to Ali and then back down to the key again, as if staring at it might somehow resolve the problem. “I’m not sure...What do you think?”

Ali shrugged and forced a smile. “I’m not sure either.”

Rachel looked up and found the receptionist scrutinising them intensely, clearly fascinated by this exchange. “Could you give us a minute please?” she asked politely.

Marjorie glowered, before shuffling through a door at the back of reception and disappearing from sight. “Suit yourselves,” she muttered.

Ali stepped in close and spoke softly. “I can always try and find a room somewhere else, if you think sharing is a problem.”

“Don’t be silly! There’s nothing else around here for miles...Anyway it isn’t a problem... I was just a bit worried because...Because of what happened... last time.”

Ali’s expression was suddenly serious. “Listen Rachel...I’m not going to pretend I don’t fancy you...But I’m sure I can manage to keep my hands off you for one night.”

Rachel’s heart surged in her chest. “Okay” she squeaked. She still fancies me!

“That is,” Ali said, leaning in even closer, “as long as you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.” Rachel replied, reaching down for the room key and trying not to smile. “I don’t mind at all.”

Chapter 26

 In the diminishing light of dusk, it was just possible to see the rain drifting across the surface of Derwent Water; dark ribbons of grey against the pale evening sky. Rachel perched on the window seat, her face pressed again the cool pane, knees pulled up to her chest. Outside, the wind howled about the building, its angry protest a strange comfort, when heard from the sanctuary of the bedroom.

Inside, the room was toasty; warmed by a small fire, which crackled in the corner, sending animated shadows jittering against the wall.  Opposite, a four-poster bed stood proudly; carved from mahogany and dressed with crisp sheets and fat, feather pillows. Beside the bed was a nightstand, where one solitary lamp made little impression on the intermittent darkness. A tall sash window looked out onto the lake, and from this position, on the top floor, it was possible to see all the way across, to where a small twinkling of lights from Keswick were just visible through the gloom.

The bathroom door was closed and beyond the wood, Rachel could hear Ali splashing about in the enormous bathtub. She tried not to imagine her in there; her smooth skin, soapy and slick, her firm physique glistening with moisture, but it was proving difficult to remove the notion from her mind.

There was a knock at the bedroom door and, climbing wearily from the ledge, Rachel pulled the towelling robe tightly around her and hurried to answer it. She was surprised to find Marjorie, carrying a silver tray laden with a bottle of red wine, two glasses and a packet of Fruit Gums. “Hello again,” she said sourly.

Rachel was confused. “I didn’t order any wine.”

“No...It comes with the room...Because it’s one of our superior suites, you get a complimentary bottle of our house wine and a fruit basket.” The assistant manager couldn’t have sounded more displeased if she had tried. “We didn’t have any fruit,” she added indifferently.

Rachel smiled and stood back to allow her to enter the room.  She placed the tray carefully onto a small table beside the window and turned to face Rachel, straightening her waistcoat with an angry flourish. “Will there be anything else?” she asked resentfully.

“Actually yes.” Quickly Rachel crossed the room to where their wet clothes were jumbled in a damp pile. “Is there any chance of these being laundered?... We’ve nothing else to wear.”

Marjorie sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alright then,” she snapped. “But there will be a charge of five pounds and fifty pence...and I won’t be able to get them dry before the morning.” Gathering the clothes from the floor, Rachel crossed to the doorway, where Marjorie was now hovering, as if she couldn’t wait to get out. “Oh really?” she said, unable to hide her disappointment. “But what about dinner? We can hardly come down to the dining room in these robes can we?’

Marjorie regarded her with nothing less than disdain, but accepted the clothes all the same. “You most certainly cannot! This is a respectable establishment; not a doss-house!”

“So... what shall we do?” Rachel tried to sound meek, but her efforts made little impression on Marjorie’s iron-like demeanour.

“You’ll have to stay up here... I suppose I can send up some sandwiches and crisps.” And with that she was gone.

Rachel stood for a moment in the centre of the room, wondering at the brief dialogue. She turned her attention to the silver tray. She wasn’t really supposed to be drinking alcohol and judging by today’s performance, the sooner she stopped the better. Still it was here now and it seemed a shame to waste it.

By the time Ali emerged in a cloud of steam, Rachel had poured them each a glass and moved the table and two armchairs in front of the fire. With golden embers drifting upward and out of sight, and the flames glimmering in the ruby liquid, it looked like a scene from a bad romance movie. Rachel tried to avoid Ali’s inquisitive smile as she lingered in the doorway.

‘Wow,” she muttered, her eyes dancing with uncertainty.

Sensing her hesitation, Rachel hurried to reassure her. “ I...I er...I didn’t order the wine. Reception sent it up.” 

“That was nice of them,” she said, and Rachel felt she was concealing some deep amusement, as she surveyed the room with a small, half-smile playing about on her lips.

“I can send it back if you like,” she said, wishing Ali would share the joke, but she stepped quickly into the bedroom and smiled.

“Oh no! Don’t do that... I’m sorry...It’s just that sometimes I feel like events are conspiring against me.” She moved closer and Rachel felt her pulse quicken. “Do you know what I mean?”

“Not entirely,” Rachel said truthfully and Ali nodded.

“Never mind.”

Rachel watched Ali rubbing her hair with a small towel and then returning it to the rail. She wore an identical robe to her own, the white towelling contrasting sharply with her dark skin, which was still flushed from the heat of the bath. Her hair was damp and tousled. She had tried to push it back, but it fell across her face in short, unruly strands. Trying to distract herself from the sudden pang in her core, Rachel passed Ali a glass. “Unfortunately we can’t eat in the dining room...They’re going to send up some food. I’m afraid We’ll have to stay here.”

Ali accepted the drink and collapsed into a chair “Like I said...It’s a conspiracy.”

Sitting in the chair opposite and, tucking her feet underneath her, Rachel drank deeply from the glass. The wine was smooth and she gazed into the crimson depths, savouring the sharpness on her tongue. Looking up, she found Ali watching her. Her skin blazed in the reflected firelight and her eyes were bright and curious. It seemed as good a time as any to ask the question that had been pressing on her mind for nearly two weeks. “Can I ask you something?” Rachel said tentatively.

Ali took a long draft and regarded her seriously. “If you like.”

She wanted to come right out with it; to ask Ali why she had slept with her and then disappeared without an explanation, but was suddenly afraid of what her reply might be. “Er...Do...Do you like the wine?”

Taken aback, Ali stopped to consider the question. “That’s what you wanted to ask me?... If I like the wine?”

Rachel nodded, but felt herself blushing.

“It’s very good,” Ali said, laughing benignly. “And here I was thinking you were going to ask me something important...Like why I didn’t call you.”

Her frankness caught Rachel off guard and she could only stare at her in silence, watching the amber firelight flickering in her large, pale eyes. “And why didn’t you?” Rachel asked finally.

She sighed, gazing thoughtfully into the flames, where the burning logs popped and wheezed. “Don’t you know?” She replied softly.

“I can probably guess.”

‘Really?” Ali turned on her sharply, as if her response was very important.

“Is it what you said about the inappropriateness of the... relationship? I know you were worried... I thought perhaps,...you had thought better of it.”

Ali sighed again, seeming to find this answer deeply disappointing. “I suppose that was part of it.”

“Would it be very wrong? ... For you to get involved with someone you met at the hospital?” Rachel’s question was sincere and she watched as Ali struggled over her response.

“I think the General Medical Council would take a very dim view of me having slept with a patient...But I guess it happens... I don’t think I took advantage of you; although they might not see it that way.”

“You didn’t take advantage,” Rachel said seriously. “I’m not a child.”

‘But perhaps I abused my position.”

“Hardly... Besides we didn’t meet at the hospital...I had already seen you at the race.”

“That’s true enough,” Ali agreed, but her voice seemed sad and Rachel couldn’t read the strange look that lingered in her eyes. “How are you feeling now anyway? Is your wrist still very sore? Your head has healed nicely.”

Rachel knew she was trying to change the subject, but decided to go with it. “It’s fine...I’m fine...Perhaps a little tired from the race... How about you?”

“Exhausted...You ran well today ... I know you’re disappointed, but you shouldn’t be... You were fantastic.”

Rachel didn’t reply. She didn’t want to think about the day’s events. Her frustration was still too raw and besides, Ali still hadn’t answered the question. She wondered what was really at the heart of her reluctance to pursue it.  Ali’s voice drew her back. “I love watching you run you know,” she said softly.

Rachel looked up at her, smiling awkwardly. “Do you?”

She nodded. “Yes...Because you’re amazing...The way that you move...so graceful and strong....You’re an incredible athlete.”

Rachel’s face burned and she reached for the wine, but Ali continued unabated.

“...In fact...the truth is...I just love watching you.”

A tense silence engulfed them. Right then there was a sharp rap at the door.

Rising quickly, Rachel moved to answer it. “That’ll be room service.”

Chapter 27

As sandwiches went, these were a fairly paltry offering; a few limp slices of bread, sparsely filled with cheese and lined up on a plate. A handful of crisps and a few salad leaves had been scattered on top and there was one sachet of salt and a paper napkin stuffed underneath.

The two of them considered their evening meal without enthusiasm.

“Oh,” was all that Rachel could say.

“Hmmm” Ali agreed, scratching her head. “I hope you’re not hungry.”

Thankfully Rachel wasn’t hungry at all, which was surprising considering the day’s events. “Not especially,” she said, feeling disappointed nonetheless. “What about you?”

Ali shook her head and instead opted for the wine. “Not really. I seem to have lost my appetite.”

“I don’t think Marjorie likes us very much.”

Ali laughed and drained her glass, before reaching for the bottle. “You might be right.”

“Anyway,” Rachel said, offering her own glass to be topped up, “I should be able to get my car sorted in the morning and then we can escape back to civilisation.”

She laughed again. “Yes...although I do rather like it here. I like the country.”

“Me too,” Rachel agreed.

Rachel watched Ali as she sipped delicately from the glass, the flames gleaming in the fine lights of her hair. She looked beautiful in the firelight and Rachel found herself carefully studying the tiny features; her strong cheekbones, her mouth, dark and moist with wine, her long eyelashes and the soft down of white hair just visible on her upper lip. This night would end soon and Rachel drank in the details, committing them to memory, so she could play over them again later; whenever she was alone.

“Don’t you miss the city?” she asked, surprising Ali with the question and for a moment she was far away, caught up in a memory.

“Not really,” she said finally.  “Obviously London is wonderful...There’s so much to do and it’s very exciting... I used to enjoy the theatre, but when I left...Well... I was glad to get away… I had to get away.”

“Why?” Rachel asked.

“It’s a long story,” Ali admitted with a rueful smile. “I wouldn’t want to bore you with details.”

“No please...I won’t be bored. I’d like to know.”

Ali sighed and looked at her glass, swirling the dark liquor around and around, like a fortune-teller. “It’s not so exciting,” she said eventually. “Just the usual stuff; met a girl, fell in love, moved in, got a couple of cats... I’m sure you can imagine the rest.” The pain was visible in the hard set of her mouth and the sudden softness in her eyes. She didn’t seem to want to meet Rachel’s gaze at all.

“It ended badly?” Rachel asked in as kind a voice as she could muster.

“Doesn’t it always?”

“I’m sure it doesn’t always...But it often seems to, doesn’t it.”

At this Ali looked up again and, finding Rachel’s eyes, she held her gaze awhile and smiled.

“Did she break your heart?” Rachel pressed gently.

“I think she probably did... I was fairly distraught about it... I didn’t expect it, you see. I trusted her completely. I had no idea she was... unhappy... You have to be so careful...” again she looked across, and Rachel felt the intensity of her gaze. “...who you trust.”

Rachel knew what she was implying, but couldn’t think of a way to reassure her. She had told her over and over that her early assumptions had been wrong, but it seemed she was still harbouring some deep misgivings. At this moment in time, listening to her story, Rachel could see no way to overcome that. Still, emboldened by the wine, she took a chance.

“Are you referring to me and Helen?”

Now Ali seemed taken aback and she studied Rachel hard, apparently considering her response. “Do you blame me?” she shot back.

“Not entirely...but really...Do you still think there is something between us?”

Ali took a deep draft of wine and shrugged. “Like I said before...I don’t know what to think Rachel...I know what you have told me...but I also know what I have seen... and what I’ve  heard.... But it’s really none of my business.”

Rachel felt the anger simmering inside her. She glared at Ali, wondering what on earth she was talking about. “What does that mean?” she demanded, the anger evident in her voice.

Ali’s response was calm and cool. “Just what I said.”  And then suddenly her features relaxed and she rubbed her forehead anxiously with her fingertips. “Listen to me Rachel.” She looked up and somehow her eyes seemed bluer than they had before and her expression was searching. “I’ve made no secret of the way I feel about you... You’re lovely and bright and funny...and I really like being with you...But the truth is, I’d be breaking so many rules if I got involved with you...and not just the rules set by the GMC...My own rules too... I’ve already crossed the line... If I were going to pursue this any further, I would have to trust you completely...And honestly...I just don’t feel that I can. There are too many questions in my mind.”

Rachel leaned back in the armchair and regarded Ali, reeling slightly from the monologue. She felt as if she had been slapped across the face. “Well...” she heard herself saying, “that’s a shame...because I like being with you too...But I can’t make you trust me...And honestly...I don’t feel I should have to ... Besides I wouldn’t want you to break any of your rules.” She couldn’t keep the resentment out of her voice and, apparently wounded by the sarcasm, Ali looked away, placing her empty glass on the table.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I understand.”

***

It was late and the conversation had become stilted. Beyond the windowpane, the night was impenetrable and inside, the fire had dwindled to a smouldering pile of ash. In the corner, a grandmother clock kept time steadily, only serving to emphasise the awkwardness of the silence. Rachel knew that they were putting off the inevitable and pushed herself to her feet. She was exhausted from the race and needed to sleep. They just had to be adult about this situation.

“I don’t mind sleeping in the chair, if you would feel more comfortable,” she offered, secretly hoping she wouldn’t have to.

Ali looked up, her eyes wide with alarm. “Not at all!...If anyone is sleeping in the chair, I will.”

Again the silence descended and Rachel looked at her feet. “I don’t think either of us should have to sleep in the chair,” she mumbled. “Like you said, I’m sure we can control ourselves for one night.”

Ali smiled, looking a little embarrassed, but relieved at the same time. “I’m sure we can.” she said gently.

Without speaking, they each moved to the bed, Ali stopping en route to switch out the side lamp and banished the last vestige of light into the blackness.

Rachel felt the bed droop as Ali climbed in beside her, and she sidled closer to the edge, reluctantly maintaining the distance between them.

“Good night,” Rachel said, her voice sounding loud in the velvety darkness.

“Good night Rachel.”

“Thanks by the way.” Rachel was suddenly seized by an urge to extend the evening a little longer, in spite of her tiredness. “For staying with me I mean.”

She heard Ali breathe out and the sound was oddly reassuring. “That’s okay...I’ve enjoyed being here with you.”

And then Rachel felt the movement as Ali’s hand moved slowly across the duvet, creeping above the covers to find Rachel’s own and take hold of it. As their warm palms connected, Rachel felt an unexpected wave of energy and when Ali squeezed her hand she gasped. She returned the gesture, unsure, but equally unwilling to let go and Ali made no attempt to pull away.

Suddenly Rachel’s heart was beating hard against her rib cage; the blood singing in her ears. A strange urgency was welling inside her, an irresistible longing to lean across and kiss Ali, to feel the weight of her body, to luxuriate against her smooth, naked skin. It was almost more than she could bear. “Ali...” she said, and her voice sounded strange; thick and drowsy with desire. “I... I think...”

But before she could finish the sentence, Ali had closed the space between them and was lying on top of her, covering her neck and face with desperate kisses and finally finding her mouth with lips that burned. She tasted sharp from the wine; her breath hot and fast on Rachel’s face. And now she was pulling at Rachel’s gown, stripping it away with a passion that Rachel understood and welcomed.  Suddenly, Rachel was acutely aware of the delicious pain in her centre; a deep, throbbing ache, accompanied by that glorious sensation of readiness; the feeling of her body opening up to accept all the love that Ali could give her; over and over until she was satisfied.

“Wait...” Rachel gasped, making no attempt to stop Ali, as she parted her legs and slid a hand between her thighs. “We’re not supposed to...” But more than anything, she wanted Ali, right there and then, in spite of everything they had said.

Ali stopped her with a probing kiss, sliding her tongue into Rachel’s mouth. She pulled away, before moving to kiss her throat and shoulders and Rachel opened her eyes, but she couldn’t see anything in the blackness. She could only feel the exquisite pressure as Ali moved deep inside her and the waves of pleasure began to build in her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Ali whispered. “I just can’t stop myself.”

***

Chapter 28

A cool hand on Rachel’s cheek woke her. Her body was heavy with fatigue and sleep seemed to linger over her longer than it should. Opening her eyes was difficult, but when she did, she found Ali sitting on the bed beside her, looking down and lightly touching her face. Seeing Rachel stir, a ghost of a smile touched her lips and she drew back her hand.

“Good morning,” she murmured. “I thought you were never going to wake up.”

Rachel lay still, squinting in the delicate morning light; allowing herself to come around fully. She knew from the excessive grogginess that she had slept deeply, probably because of the race and the wine, or maybe from other activities; sweet acts of tenderness that had occupied them long into the night. Ali continued to watch her; a strange look in her eyes that might have been regret and feeling suddenly cornered, Ali pushed herself up into a seated position. “Hi,” she said, aware of the question in her voice.

“I made you a drink”” Ali mumbled, passing a large mug containing what looked like tea from the night stand. Seeming uncomfortable, she then rose to her feet and crossed to the window.  

Tightly wrapped in her gown, Ali appeared fresh from the shower. Her hair was damp, her skin slightly pink and she looked as if she had been up for hours. “It’s a lovely morning,” she sighed and Rachel was suddenly transfixed by the dappled sunlight on her handsome face. She sipped the tea and watched her, as she stood, still and serious by the window. Rachel didn’t need to ask, to know that something was troubling Ali, but she did all the same. “Are you alright?”

Slowly, Ali turned to face her. She was no longer smiling. “I think we should talk...about last night.”

Rachel felt the impact of the words instantly; a sickening disappointment, like a knife in her stomach. She knew exactly what Ali was about to say. When she replied, she tried to sound light and unconcerned. “Oh...Okay.”

“The thing is...” Ali said, stepping toward her, “I just can’t stop...”

She was interrupted by a loud knock at the bedroom door, which startled them both. Rolling her eyes, Ali hurried to the door, where a young boy stood nervously, holding a pile of neatly pressed clothes. Judging by his smooth complexion and scrawny neck, he couldn’t have been much older than sixteen. “Your clothes Madam,” he squeaked, extending the pile nervously. “Oh...And the mechanic has just called... They’re on their way back with your car.”

Ali accepted the clothes and thanked the boy, who was about to leave, but then hurried back again. “I’m afraid you’ve missed breakfast,” he added, with no trace of regret. 

Ali thanked him again, shut the door and placed the clothes over the back of the nearest chair, before returning to stand beside the bed. “Our friend Marjorie must have called the garage for you!”

“I suppose she must have... I suspect she’s trying to speed up our departure.”

Ali smiled and perched on the bed. “You’re probably right.” And then neither of them spoke and the silence was almost unbearable. Ali seemed suddenly to be carrying a heavy burden and before she could stop herself, Rachel had reached out and taken hold of her hand. Ali tried to say something, but faltered and looked away into space.

“Hey,” Rachel said soothingly. “It’s okay.” It was terrible to see her so obviously distressed. “Listen...last night...We just made a mistake.” The certainty in Rachel's voice surprised them both and when Ali turned to face her, a crease of worry had settled across her brow. “It shouldn't have happened,” Rachel continued, “But it did...It’s not the end of the world and we don’t need to tear ourselves up about it.” Rachel could hardly believe the words that fell so easily from her mouth. She actually sounded as if she meant it. “We should just put it down to the wine and forget all about it.”

Ali looked at her for a long time, without speaking, before finally nodding her consent. “Okay Rachel... I’m sure you’re right.”

“I am right... We just got a bit carried away...That’s all... There’s no reason we can’t still be friends though is there?”

Ali shook her head. “I’d like that... Although I might have to give training a miss for a little while.”

“Why? Because of last night?”

“No! Of course not...One of the Registrars is going to be absent for a few months. I’ve been asked to step up and cover for her while she’s away.”

“Wow!” Rachel said sincerely. “That’s great...Why didn’t you say so?” and she realised that they had never really talked about Ali’s work, aside from to deliberate on how it affected any relationship they might have. 

“I don’t know really,” Ali said with a small shrug. “It doesn’t seem very important.” She seemed indifferent and Rachel wanted to ask her why, but decided not to.

“Well I think it’s important. You are now officially the most senior medical doctor I know.”

Ali smiled. “How many other medical doctors do you know?”

“Well none... But that’s hardly the point. It’s a great achievement and you should be proud of it.”

“I suppose I am really,” Ali said, but her tone was far from convincing and she seemed only sad and disinterested. Rachel squeezed her hand again and Ali forced an apologetic smile.  “We’d better get dressed. The mechanic will be here soon.”

“Okay,” Rachel agreed, suddenly not wanting to climb from the bed, and expose her nakedness. Apparently sensing this, Ali rose to her feet and headed to the pile of clothes. She separated her own garments and then headed for the bathroom.

“I’ll change in here,” she said, with a mischievous wink.

Rachel laughed lightly and Ali was about to enter the bathroom, when she suddenly stopped and turned to face her again.

“One thing though Rachel...”

“Yes?” Rachel replied expectantly.

A slow smile illuminated her face, although the sadness remained in her eyes. “It had nothing to do with the wine.”

Part Two

In Recovery

Chapter 29

There were times when Rachel felt that the only thing she really understood was running and this was turning out to be one of those times.

It was an honest, simple sport. If you didn’t put the work in, your performance reflected it. Nobody else could spoil it for you. It was between you and the road and the air in your lungs. When she was running, with nothing for company beyond the trail and the hills and the endless, clear skies, Rachel felt a kind of peace that others might find in prayer or meditation. Her mind wasn’t empty exactly, but it seemed that those difficult conceits, the ones that kept her awake at night, weren’t quite so difficult when she was running and she could mentally mould them into a shape that was more palatable somehow. Running was Rachel’s faith and she couldn’t conceive of a life without it.

People, on the other hand, were a different matter and Rachel wondered how it could be that as she was getting older and supposedly wiser, she found people more difficult to understand than ever. After Helen left; that terrible, devastating period, when all she had wanted to do was curl up in a tight ball and scream, Rachel had come to a decision that she couldn’t really rely on anyone except herself. Because, if Helen could let her down so badly, then anyone could. Time had softened her resolve slightly and by the time Ali appeared, she was just arriving at a place where she could finally open her heart again; but apparently Ali had not. She remained in that dark place of solitude and was unwilling to open the door for Rachel or anyone else for that matter.

Hopping over the stile to embark on the steep trail to the top of Rillingworth Pike, Rachel cast her mind back to that morning; the morning when she and Ali had returned from Cumbria in near silence. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife, Ali lost in thought as she gazed out of the window, Rachel equally tight-lipped and smarting from yet another rejection. With the majestic fells sweeping by in a green haze, eventually giving way to the more urban surrounds of Lancashire, Rachel had resolved to end the liaison right then and there. It was increasingly apparent that she was wasting her time with Ali, and she wasn’t just some piece of meat to be picked up and discarded whenever the good doctor felt like it. Consequently, when they pulled up outside Rachel’s apartment after an uncomfortable two hours of non-communication, she had killed the rattling engine and climbed from the car with barely a look in Ali’s direction.

Hurrying around to the rear, she opened the boot, aware that Ali was out of the car and watching her from the roadside. “At least the damage wasn’t as bad as we first thought,” she had said, her tone slight and hesitant.

Avoiding eye contact, Rachel looked to the front of the car, where a deep dent and a good deal of mud, stood out angrily against the otherwise pristine paintwork. “It could have been worse,” she conceded, dropping the bag at Ali’s feet and only then looking up to meet her gaze. “Good luck with the job. I’ll see you soon.”

Ali looked as if she might respond, but didn’t and without another word, Rachel locked the car and made for her front door.

“Hey Rachel!” Ali called after her.

Stopping, Rachel sighed and slowly turned around to find Ali staring at her, her expression troubled. “Thanks for the ride,” she had said finally.

Rachel could only shrug. “Don’t mention it.”

That had been over a month ago, and Rachel hadn’t heard from Ali since. As predicted there had been no sign of her in training and Rachel hadn’t seen her around the village at all, which was strange considering the size of the place. Somehow, she had resisted the urged to call her, although it had been difficult, and as the days passed, she eventually stopped checking her phone, and slowly, the pain and disappointment began to subside. For the most part she had successfully distracted herself with training and in spite of the disaster in Cumbria, she had found the motivation to keep working towards the championships.  In fact, she was training harder than ever.

With only 50 metres remaining to the summit of the pike, Rachel gritted her teeth and quickened the pace. It felt good to see her feet eating up the trail as she powered forward and for a few sweet moments, there was nothing beyond the sound of her breath, the blood ringing in her ears and the deep, searing pain of exertion.

Finally she reached the top, checked her watch and seeing that she had covered the distance to the top of the pike a full minute faster than the day before, she allowed herself a brief smile. Apparently having a broken heart had some advantages after all.

Chapter 30

There were two unexpected things waiting for Rachel when she arrived back at her apartment that morning. The first was an appointment card from the hospital, instructing her to return to the Fracture Clinic as soon as possible; the second was Helen.

She spotted Helen first; she was waiting in her car, fiddling with her Blackberry and looking as confident as ever.

“What are you doing here?”

Helen beamed as the window whirred down, allowing the breeze to sweep the hair away from her heavily made up eyes. “I wanted to give you these.” Reaching across, she grabbed an impressive bouquet of flowers from the passenger seat and thrust them in Rachel’s direction.

Reluctantly Rachel accepted the gift. “Wow...lilies...my favourite. You shouldn’t have... Why did you by the way?”

Helen was already climbing from the car, tucking her blackberry into her jacket pocket. “I saw your picture in the paper. I wanted to wish you luck...For the championships.” As always, Helen was dressed in a sharp, dark suit.

Rachel cringed. “Oh right...Thanks very much. I had no idea they were going to run a story on me...I still don’t even know how they found out about the race.”

Helen smiled and pointed to the bouquet. “You should probably put them in some water.”

She wondered if Helen could detect how unhappy she was to see her. She was an added complication that Rachel just didn’t need right now.  “I will... thanks.”

Apparently sensing that Rachel had no intention of inviting her inside, Helen surged forward, catching her arm as she reached the front door. “Aren’t you going to ask me in?”

“Oh...Well I would...But the thing is I’ve just got back from training and I really need a shower.”

“I don’t mind waiting... I’ll make you a drink and arrange those flowers for you... if you like.”

Suddenly aware of how ungrateful she seemed, Rachel smiled apologetically. “There’s no need...I’m sorry...come on in.”

Inside, the white appointment card lay innocently on the mat. It was almost hidden amongst the pile of post, but Rachel recognised it instantly. She had been waiting for it to pop through her door for weeks. She collected the various letters and the card and placed them on the sideboard, as if her heart wasn’t racing at a million miles an hour, and then crossed casually to the sitting room.

“How was your run?”

Amid the mental turmoil that the prospect of a visit to the hospital had occasioned, Rachel had briefly forgotten Helen was even there.

“Oh.. It was fine thanks.”

“You look good.”

“I’m fine,” Rachel muttered, placing the lilies in the sink and tearing through the cellophane wrap. They were lovely and it was clear she had spent a lot of money on them. “You really shouldn’t have done this you know.”

“I wanted to...Besides...I haven’t seen you for a while... Since that night at the Printrooms in fact...I thought you might have called me.”

Rachel stopped what she was doing. Of course! That night; the night they had kissed. Perhaps she should have called or sent a message, if only to apologise and affirm the sentiment that it would never happen again. Turning around, she found Helen standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. She seemed so terribly out of place in her pinstripes among Rachel’s bohemian clutter. Perhaps she always had been. 

“I’m sorry Helen. You’re right. I should have called you.”

Helen smiled then, but her eyes danced with uncertainty. “It’s alright... So long as you don’t regret what happened.”

“I don’t,” Rachel lied.

Helen stepped slowly forward and stopped again. “Good...Good.... That’s good.”

She knows I’m lying, Rachel thought.

“So,” Helen said, with forced brightness. “There’s a new movie out about Margaret Thatcher.”

Rachel returned her attention to the flowers. “I know...I’ve read some of the reviews.”

“It sounds excellent... and I remembered that you really like Margaret Thatcher.”

“Me?” Rachel said with a light laugh. “You’re joking right... I still read the Socialist Worker.”

“Do you?”

“Yes... I think you must be confusing me with someone else.”

“Well anyway... that doesn’t really matter... Do you want to see it on Saturday?”

When Rachel turned around again, she found Helen blushing slightly. It had clearly taken a considerable effort of will for her to drive over here and ask the question.

She felt the familiar sinking feeling in her chest. “ I really don’t know Helen.”

Helen shrugged. “Come on Rachel... We can see a film together as friends can’t we?”

“Can I think about it?”

Helen stepped back, immediately drawing her mouth into a tight line. Eventually she forced a smile. “Of course,” she said, but there was more than a hint of frost in her voice.

Drying her hands, Rachel stepped toward her. “I appreciate you asking... and I’m very grateful for the flowers... I just need a bit of time to think about it.”

“Sure...Whatever you need... You know where I am anyway.” And with that, she turned and was gone.

Rachel stood for a moment, watching the empty space that Helen had just vacated. Why was her life so bloody complicated? And then she almost jumped out of her skin, as someone entered the kitchen behind her.

“I really hope you’re not thinking of going!”

Mel had apparently been listening to the entire exchange from behind her bedroom door.

“Jesus Christ Mel... I thought you were shopping... You scared me half to death.”

She breezed into the room, wearing only a silk kimono and a pair of fluffy mules. “I decided against it. It’ll be crazy in town today... Anyway...stop changing the subject. You’re not going out with her are you?”

Rachel watched her houseguest, as she crossed the front room and collapsed into Rachel’s favourite chair, slinging one leg over the arm.

“Probably not,” Rachel muttered. “Not that it’s any of your business. You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping anyway!”

Mel suddenly leapt from her seat and hurried into the kitchen area. “Oooh nice flowers... are they from her? She’s trying to buy you back isn’t she.”

“Actually these were a good luck present.. for the race... It’s next week.”

“I know that!” Mel said with such a defensive edge that it was clear she had no idea when the race was. “Anyway... its obvious she’s trying to buy you back... Don’t fall for it Rachel... Gorgeous though aren’t they... Can I have a few stems for my room?”

“No,” Rachel snapped, scooping the flowers out of the sink and shoving them roughly into a glass vase. “I’m going for a shower.” Rachel made her way toward the bathroom, stopping in the hallway to examine the appointment card. She didn’t notice Mel following her.

“What’s that?’ she asked, startling Rachel all over again.

“Jesus! Mel! Stop doing that will you? It’s just an appointment from the hospital.”

Mel snatched it from her hand. “Oh... My... God! Is this from Ali?”

Rachel snatched it back again. “Hardly...It’s from the clinic... They need to take the cast off. Ali doesn’t deal with that kind of thing...she’s a registrar.”

“Oh right,” Mel said, suitably impressed and Rachel felt a small swell of pride, which quickly evaporated when she added. “I can’t believe you let that one get away.”

“Bloody hell Mel! It wasn’t like that at all... Nothing even happened.”

“Bullshit... You shagged her.”

Willing herself not to react, Rachel placed the card carefully back on the pile. “I’m going for a shower.”

But Mel followed her into the bathroom. “Oh my God Rachel...Why won’t you just tell me what happened that weekend?... I’m dying to know!”

“My life is not a bloody soap opera you know...even though it obviously seems like one to you.”

“Just tell me...Did something happen between you two... You’ve been weird with me ever since we got back…and that was ages ago!”

“That might have something to do with you stealing and trashing my car...Or had you forgotten about that?”

Mel gasped and stuck out her bottom lip. She gazed up at Rachel from beneath a deeply furrowed brow. “I didn’t steal it... and I cant believe you’ve brought that up again.”

“Can’t you?” Rachel sighed, leaning across to turn on the shower.

“No... I was only asking about Ali because I care about you. You seem upset about something.”

Rachel pulled the shower curtain with such force that one of the rings pinged open and bounced off the rail. “Bloody bollocks,” she said, collecting it from where it had fallen into the sink and throwing it into the bin. She turned and fixed Mel with a serious stare. “I’m not upset about anything and anyway, I’ve far more important things to worry about than my non-existent love life …Like the championships…and my one to one with old Harrison next Friday...”

Mel scowled at the mere mention of their boss’s name.

“So,” Rachel continued, “...If you care about me so much...”

Mel nodded expectantly.

“...get out of my bloody bathroom!”

Chapter 31

Professor Harrison’s office was on the top floor of the building, at the far end of a long, twisting corridor. Rachel sat just outside his room, listening with growing irritation to the sound of the keyboard clicking methodically beyond the heavy, oak door. It was quarter past one already and she had a tutorial at 2. Perhaps he had forgotten their appointment.

With the prospect of a visit to the hospital looming over her, Rachel was finding it difficult to think about anything else. Scolding herself for her unprofessionalism, she had tried in vain to empty her mind of all thoughts of Ali, but concentrating on work was almost impossible. She knew that in all likelihood she wouldn’t even see Ali at the hospital. It was a big place and for all she knew, Ali might not be there that particular day. But, somehow the prospect of not seeing her was even worse than them "accidentally" bumping into one another.

She had no idea how she was now supposed to focus on her meeting with Professor Harrison and still had no idea why he had asked to see her. No doubt he would be complaining about something, although she wasn't sure what exactly; her results were always good, she pulled her weight with the research and was as well published as any of the other heads of department. But there was obviously something she was doing wrong. She would just have to accept whatever he had to say with humility and promise to do better in future.

She tried to distract herself with pleasant thoughts, but quickly realised there was nowhere in her head that she could escape to. Everywhere she turned was stress and worry; the championships were playing on her mind so much that she could barely sleep at night, her love life was in tatters and even home was no longer a haven, what with Mel's clutter occupying practically every corner of her apartment. As if that weren't bad enough, Mel had been right when she observed that Rachel had been different toward her since coming back from Cumbria. It was true and it wasn't just because of her disastrous race or the regrettable turn of events with Ali. Rachel knew deep down it wasn't worth falling out with her best friend over something so trite as a car. It was after all only a metal box, to carry her from A to B, but it was the principle of the thing! And she still hadn’t offered a penny toward the repairs! The whole sorry state of affairs was putting a strain on their friendship, and the sooner Mel moved out the better; but there was no sign of that happening any time soon.

And then there was Helen…

At that moment, Rachel was distracted from her musings by the sound of footsteps beyond the door, and realising that the typing had stopped, she sat upright and instinctively straightened her shirt. A second later, the door creaked open and Professor Harrison's shrivelled head peered around the opening.

"Sorry to keep you Doctor Ryder. I just had to finish this chapter I'm working on."

"Not at all Professor. I appreciate you seeing me." Rachel inwardly cringed at the obsequiousness in her voice.

In spite of its enormous scale, Professor Harrison’s office was dark and crowded. In every corner there were piles of manuscripts and papers, some of them apparently ancient, and every inch of wall was filled from floor to ceiling with bulging bookshelves. Behind his massive desk, there were two huge windows, which judging from the position of his office, must have commanded panoramic views of the campus, but which were now covered by thick, dark blinds, which blocked out the daylight completely. The only light in fact, came from a small desk lamp, which did little to illuminate the gloom. It was a stereotypical academic’s study, and in that respect it suited the Professor, who was a stereotypical academic, but it was about as far away from Rachel’s comfort zone as was possible and when she took her seat opposite him, at the far side of the desk, she felt distinctly out of place.

“I won’t keep you long,” he said, shuffling a wad of yellow papers, before moving them to one side. “I need to discuss a somewhat… sensitive matter with you.”

Rachel felt her pulse quicken and found herself leaning forward. “Alright. What is it?”

He smiled thinly and slouched back in his chair, scratching his slightly stubbly chin with one cracked fingernail. “There’s no need to look so alarmed.” When the professor laughed it reminded Rachel of the sound her car made on cold, winter mornings. “This won’t affect you directly…Only one or two of your staff.”

Rachel nodded silently.

“You see the thing is, we’re having a bit of a personnel re-structure. Myself and one or two other members of the senior staff are not a little concerned about the status and eligibility of some of our teachers. This is a competitive age after all, I’m sure you of all people can understand that, and we need to ensure that we are providing the very best teachers across the university.”

Again Rachel nodded, uncertain where this was going.

“…So the thing is, at the end of this year we are going to dissolve all the teaching positions and ask everyone to re-apply for their jobs.”

Rachel sat back and tried to assimilate what he was telling her. “I’m sorry Professor…Why would we do that? Are you unhappy with our results?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Actually no…Your department in particular always does surprisingly well… All things considered.”

Rachel bit her lip, and somehow managed not to respond.

He continued. “But we do want to make sure that everyone is appropriately qualified… separate the wheat from the chaff,…if you catch my drift. Some staff may no longer meet the essential criteria.”

Suddenly the penny dropped, and Rachel felt her stomach lurch. “I see.” She managed to mutter.

“…I’m afraid we are going to insist that all teaching staff have at least a doctorate now… So some of your, less distinguished staff need not re-apply.”

Rachel felt the heat rising in her face. “Even if those staff are excellent teachers, with consistently outstanding results?”

“Even then,” he said, with a patronizing smile.

Rachel barely listened to the rest of the discussion and was only able to nod her acknowledgement when he asked at the close, “So I trust you will break this portentous news to your team? I’m sure they will understand.”

And that was the end of that.

There was only one member of Rachel’s team who didn’t have a doctorate, but that didn’t make her feel any better.

She left the office on slightly unsteady legs, feeling as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders and wondering what she could possibly say to Mel.

***

"Are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost! Where've you been anyway? I had to go to the canteen on my own today…and you know how I hate that."

Rachel Forced herself to smile at Mel, as she slumped into the seat beside her in the senior common room.

“Sorry about that. I had to go to that meeting with Professor Harrison.”

Mel returned her attention to the copy of Hello magazine, resting on her lap. “Oh God...I forgot…How awful for you. What did he want anyway, the miserable old git?”

Rachel glanced around. The room was full of their colleagues milling about, drinking coffee and generally prying into one another’s business. This was neither the time, nor the place to embark on such a tricky subject. Besides, she really couldn’t face telling her. She needed time to think it through properly. She would have to break the news later, when they were at home. At least that way there would be nobody to witness it, when Mel went into total meltdown, which was inevitably what would happen.

“Nothing much...I’ll tell you later.”

Mel gazed up from her magazine. “Bloody hell. It must have been bad... Maybe you’d better not tell me at all.”

“I will tell you,” Rachel promised, and then instantly regretted it. “Just not here.”

At that point, Mel folded her magazine shut and rested it on the arm of the chair. She looked at Rachel earnestly. “Actually Rach...I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

“Yes...The thing is, I’m not feeling 100 percent today... I’ve got a terrible headache and my poo’s a bit runny... Would you mind awfully if I went home this afternoon? I’ve got some marking I need to do anyway, and I might be contagious.”

Rachel sighed.  “You don’t look ill.”

“Don’t I?... I feel terrible...Just say if it’s a problem.”

 “It’s not a problem.” Rachel wondered if she would have capitulated so easily, had she not just been given the news about Mel’s impending dismissal. “You go home and get some rest.”

Mel’s shock was obvious. “Really? You don’t mind?”

“No...Get yourself home to bed.”

“Oh thanks Rachel!... You’re wonderful!... I’d kiss you but, you know...I might be contagious... and besides, I don’t want people to think we’re... you know!”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Just bloody go will you... Before I change my mind.”

Chapter 32

Two hours later, Rachel was sitting alone in her office, staring at a blank computer monitor, when her phone began to ring. She knew from the tune that it was Helen, but grabbed the handset anyway to look indifferently at the image of her ex now displayed on the small screen. It was funny how life moved on. There had been a time when she had lain awake all night waiting for her to call, but now, she just wished she would leave her alone. Feeling slightly guilty she pushed the phone away, sliding it across the desk until it was balanced right at the very edge. Eventually it fell silent.

Standing up, she paced to the window and peered out at the courtyard below, where hundreds of students were moving in packs between lectures and tutorials. They looked happy; free from responsibility and the burdens that came later on, like telling your best friend they no longer had a job.

Realising she couldn’t put it off any longer, Rachel returned to her desk, switched off the computer and snatched her coat from the back of the chair. The sooner she did this, the better it would be for everyone. She would think of a way to phrase it on the way.

Arriving at the car, she tried not look at the battered front end and jumped into the driver's seat, throwing her briefcase in beside her. She was fumbling for her keys when her phone started again. Pulling it from her pocket, she found it was voicemail calling and hit the answer button.

The mechanical, soulless voice took her through a range of options and finally she was given the chance to "listen to your messages."

In the next second, Helen's familiar voice was in her ear, bright and assertive as ever.

"Hi babe… It's only me… Just wanted to touch base with you and remind you about the cinema tomorrow… The film's on at 8 so I'll pick you up at 7.30… I've booked a table for supper afterwards… See you tomorrow….Bye darling."

Before she had even ended the call, Rachel was in a state of cold, simmering rage. It was so typical of Helen to take control like this. At no point had she agreed to go to the cinema and even if she had briefly entertained the notion, there was no chance of her going now. Ramming the key into the ignition, Rachel tried to remember if Helen had always been that way with her, disregarding her wishes and dictating the terms. She couldn't remember now. There were lots of details about their relationship that she couldn't remember. Perhaps she had deliberately blocked them from her mind.

Driving too fast toward the main road, she resolved to call Helen as soon as possible to let her know that she would not be going. Mel had her faults, but she had always been right about Helen. She had warned Rachel right from the very beginning, but she hadn’t listened, instead ploughing blithely onward into a relationship that was unequal, false and ultimately doomed. Hindsight of course was a wonderful thing. She would not make the same mistake again; not with Helen or with anybody else for that matter.

But she couldn’t phone right now. Before she did anything else, she needed to speak with Mel, even if she was in her sickbed.

***

Rachel was surprised when she pulled up in front of the house, to see Steve’s car parked outside, right alongside Mel’s mini. What on earth was he doing here?

It didn’t take very long however, to figure it out, and as soon as Rachel entered the apartment she was bombarded with a rather nauseating medley of grunts, moans, bedsprings and carnal exclamations, all emanating from Mel’s bedroom. Rachel closed the front door too loudly and the sound of it rattling shut was instantly followed by what sounded like a gasp, a “shhhhhhh” and then total silence.

Rachel didn’t move, and instead waited in the darkened hallway, listening for another clue to her housemate’s guilt.

“Bollocks” Mel whispered, in what was presumably a much louder voice than she had intended.

And then Steve joined in. “Who the fuck is that?”

“Who the fuck do you think it is?”

And then there was some scurrying and the unmistakable sound of a glass breaking in Mel’s room.

With her cheeks burning, Rachel hurried into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. In times like this, there was nothing else for it, but to pretend everything was normal and make a cup of tea. It was very irritating though. Here she was worrying herself sick about Mel losing her job and all the time Mel was lying about being ill and sneaking home for a quick shag with their other best friend.

“Hi Rach!” Mel stumbled into the room behind her, pulling on a robe. Her face was pink and her hair tousled beyond all recognition. “I didn’t expect you home so early.”

Rachel turned to face her and smiled. “I thought I’d work from home this afternoon. Less distractions. How are you feeling anyway? You look a bit flushed.”

“Do I?” she squeaked.

“Mmm... Having a lie down were you?”

“Mmm...” she mumbled, looking at her toes, which were painted a rather alarming, electric blue. “I feel a bit better actually.”

“Good... Do you want a cup of tea?”

“Err...The thing is Rach...”

Rachel poured boiling water into a cup and then stared Mel right in the eye. “The thing is Melanie, you told me you were ill so you could come home for an afternoon of sex with Steve.”

Instantly Mel’s eyes were like dinner plates. “But...How.... How did you...”

“Jesus Christ Mel... It’s hardly rocket science, is it? His bloody car’s parked outside and anyway,  I heard you.”

Mel cringed. “OMG! You didn’t, did you?”

“I would imagine half the bloody building heard you!”

“O…M…G!”

“And the truth is I don’t really care about you shagging Steve... Although , I must admit, it’s a bit weird... But I’m your boss and you bloody lied to me. You’ve put me in a terrible position.”

Mel shuffled her feet and scowled. “It’s only a little white lie.”

“No it bloody isn’t! It’s nothing of the sort. It’s just a lie... And to be honest, I’m getting a bit sick of you taking the piss out of me.”

“I’m not taking the...”

“You are!!” Rachel was shouting now. “First the car and now this... It’s too bloody much Mel...”

“So what are you saying?” Mel’s eyes were watering a little and seeing her on the verge of tears was enough to take the wind out of Rachel’s sails.

She sighed. “I’m not saying anything... I’m just upset about it... and I honestly think it would be best if...”

“If what?”

“...If you found somewhere else to live.”

Mel stared at Rachel in mute silence, her mouth open and her eyes staring. “You’re not serious?” she said eventually. “Over this little thing?”

“It’s not just this Mel... you know that...”

Mel stormed across the room and dropped angrily into the sofa. She glared at Rachel. “I know what this is really about... And I’d have more respect for you Rachel if you just came right out and said it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s about Helen isn’t it? You want me out of the way so you can move her back in...”

“Mel! Don’t be so bloody rid...”

But Mel cut her off and jumped to her feet. “There’s no point denying it…I saw the flowers she sent you…Well all I can say is good luck to you... She treated you like dirt last time and she’ll do it again. People don’t change Rachel.”

Rachel stomped into the sitting room and rammed her hands onto her hips. “Firstly, I am not moving Helen back in... and secondly even if I was...it’s none of your bloody business!”

They stood like that for a while, facing one another and steaming like a pair of angry rhinos. Eventually, Mel broke the silence.

“Fine,” she said, and as she spoke her voice cracked a little. “If that’s the way you feel.” She then tried to toss her ratty hair, with a dramatic flick of the head and scurried back into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Rachel stood for a moment, listening to her own breathing, as her mind whipped at lightening speed through what had just transpired. Suddenly she needed to get out. She wasn’t going to just stand here and spectate whilst Steve crept out like a guilty schoolboy and Mel made what would inevitably be her histrionic exit. Instead, she grabbed her car keys and walked out herself, with no clear idea where she was going.

A minute later, she was sitting in the driver’s seat, with the engine running, fiddling with her phone. She needed to talk to someone.

After a moment’s deliberation, she flicked through to her contacts, hit the call button and in no time at all familiar voice had answered at the other end.

Rachel smiled through gritted teeth. “Hi Helen... I don’t suppose you fancy meeting for a drink?”

Chapter 33

“That’s the problem when you mix business with pleasure... It hardly ever works out.”

They had only been in the pub for twenty minutes and already Helen was getting on Rachel’s nerves.

Just be patient. She’s only trying to help.  “I know... I can see that now.”

“And let’s be honest” Helen said, taking a large swig of Vodka and tonic, “Melanie was never the most reliable member of your friends. You were always complaining about her... and covering her back.”

“Was I?” Rachel couldn’t remember complaining to Helen about Mel or anything else for that matter. If anything, she had spent most of the time they were together listening to her bellyaching about difficult cases, “scumbag” clients and lazy secretaries. 

Helen nodded, offering her most preeminent smile. “Don’t worry about it.” She winked and just for a second, Rachel was tempted to slap her hard across the face. “Can I get you another drink?”

Rachel shook her head. “No thanks. I should probably get back. I don’t really want Mel to move out without us having made up. Besides I need to talk to her about work.”

“Oh come on Rach...We’ve only just got here... Let me get you another drink. Besides, you know how disorganised she is... She’ll be nowhere near ready to leave yet. It’ll take her at least three days to get that lot together.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“What will you have then? Can’t I get you something stronger than water?”

Rachel gazed longingly at Helen’s vodka, but quickly dismissed the idea. “No thanks. I’m supposed to be training later... besides it’s a bit early for me.”

“It’s nearly five o clock...on a Friday!... For God’s sake, lighten up will you... have a drink... It will make you feel better.”

Rachel slumped back into her chair. Right now there was nothing she fancied more than a strong hit of alcohol to smooth away the rough edges. She felt terrible and didn’t much fancy training anyway. One glass probably wouldn’t hurt. She started to rise from her chair, but was stopped by Helen’s hand on her arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked.

Rachel pulled back her arm a little too forcefully. “To the bar. Do you want another?”

Helen was on her feet in no time, and Rachel was too tetchy to enter into a debate about who was going to buy the drinks.

“I’ll go.” Helen said, and she crossed the deserted floor space to the bar wielding her MasterCard like a weapon of mass destruction.

Rachel watched her ordering their drinks and took a moment to appraise the situation. Why had she chosen Helen of all people, with whom to lay bear her soul? The answer was simple and a little frightening. It was because there was nobody else. Now that she had fallen out with Mel and with Steve being holed up in Mel’s bedroom like a criminal, there really was nobody else she could turn to. After her mother’s death, Rachel had no other family to rely on; aside from a few distant cousins who would probably fail to recognise her if she passed them in the street. There was always Mike, she supposed; but he had little interest in anything aside from running and would probably only advise her to “stop whining and train harder.”

There was Ali too, of course and just for a brief second Rachel had toyed with the idea of calling her. If she was honest about it, Ali was the person she most wanted to speak with; but it was patently obvious that Ali didn’t want to talk to Rachel and she wouldn’t humiliate herself any more than she had already by pursuing someone who clearly wasn’t interested. Besides, when all was said and done, they had only shared a few brief encounters; any connection more meaningful than that, had clearly been nothing more than a figment of Rachel’s wishful and occasionally ridiculous imagination.

Helen, on the other hand had known Rachel a long time. For a while they had shared a life together and to be fair to her, today, when Rachel had asked her to meet up, she hadn’t hesitated. Did it really matter if she had been unfaithful to her? Rachel had no real evidence anyway; only her suspicions and a few peculiar incidents which Helen had said she could explain. Rachel had never given her the chance; so convinced was she of Helen’s guilt, and so wounded. Of course, Mel had been vocal in her condemnation of Helen. She had always believed that Helen was cheating and when Rachel described to her what had happened in France; she said she wasn’t “a bit surprised” and that it only proved she was “an evil bitch.” But now, when Rachel thought back to that night, it didn’t seem so clear cut somehow. She just wasn’t certain anymore. Maybe her doubt was a result of Helen’s consistent and resolute denial. Or maybe time had just caused her conviction to diminish. She couldn’t be sure and at the moment, nothing seemed to make much sense.

“Voila!” Helen had arrived back at the table, carrying two glasses and a bottle of red wine. “They only had shiraz... is that alright?”

Rachel gazed at the bottle mutely and nodded. She had a terrible feeling that she knew where the evening was heading, and even though she knew she could get up and walk out right then, she decided not to. This new turn of events seemed inevitable somehow, and at this moment in time, Rachel had no desire to resist.

Chapter 34

The following morning, Rachel was rudely woken by her phone ringing. It blared out its fanfare, jolting her awake, and she opened her eyes to find herself in a dark and unfamiliar environment. She reached blindly toward the din, unable to find her handset in the heavy darkness and, having eventually located it among the tangled bedsheets, she managed to switch it off.

Feeling slightly nauseous, she collapsed back on the pillow, waiting for events to focus in her mind.

Perhaps she was ill; she felt very peculiar. Her head was pounding and she was desperate for a drink. Again she tried to recall what had happened the previous day, but it was as if her head was clogged and the detail and sense just wouldn’t surface through the sludge. 

The only thing she knew with any certainty was that she wasn’t at home. She might be half dead, but she recognised her own bed and this wasn’t it. Also, the room smelled different; the air was heavy with a spicy, exotic perfume, which she recognised, but couldn’t quite place and somewhere in another room she could hear the familiar rattle of radio two, which she rarely listened to.

Scrabbling in the murky recesses of her memory she tried to pull a picture together and slowly the images started to filter through; She remembered being with Helen at the pub and telling her about Mel. Oh God, Mel! The argument!

She remembered Helen buying them a bottle of wine and then another and then moving on to the shots and after that she remembered nothing at all.

But she knew something bad had happened. She could feel it.

Slowly and painfully she sat up in bed. With her eyes adjusting to the darkness, she realised that she had never seen this room before in her life, but as she absorbed the details; the suit hanging behind the door, the bottles of cream and frargance on the dressing table, the music centre and flat screen television in the corner, she quickly concluded that this could only be Helen’s bedroom.

Bloody hell! she thought, collapsing back into the bed again and then instinctively checking her body for clothing. She was wearing her underwear, which was a bit of a worry, but not the total disaster it could have been. Surely she would remember if something had happened. Oh please God, don’t let anything have happened!

At that moment her phone began to ring again.  Seeing it was Mike she steeled herself for the onslaught and answered it. He didn’t wait for her to speak.

“Where the bloody hell were you last night? I was waiting for twenty-five minutes!”

Rachel cringed. “ I know.” her voice was like fingernails on a blackboard. “I’m really sorry Mike.”

“Sorry! You will be bloody sorry when you lose the race next week. What the hell were you thinking? You’ve got six more days Rachel...Six... more... days! Are you losing your bloody marbles? You don’t skip training now... Not when you’ve worked so hard.”

Rachel felt the heat in her face. “I know Mike... I’m really sorry... Something came up and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

There was a long pause. “You’ve really upset me Rachel,” he said eventually. “I thought you were better than that. Anyway... you’ve got one chance to put this right. I’ll be at the pub in one hour. If you’re not there, warmed up and ready to run like you’ve never run before...You’re on your bloody own.”

The phone clicked off and Rachel was left sitting in Helen’s enormous bed, feeling like the unlikely survivor of a tsunami.

“Shit in hell,” she muttered, rolling out of bed and crawling toward the rest of her clothes, which lay scattered haphazardly all across the bedroom floor.

In no time at all, Rachel was stumbling from the bedroom into what was possibly the most exquisite hallway she had ever seen; an elegant corridor, with pale green walls, gleaming timber-work and an unfeasibly high ceiling. Rachel hadn’t seen Helen's new place, but it didn’t surprise her in the least that she had spared no expense on the decor. Next to this, Rachel's flat looked like a hovel. The fact that these opulent surroundings hadn't made even the slightest dent in her memory, only added to Rachel's already considerable anxiety and as she waded through the deep, cream carpet towards the sound of the radio, she tried not to imagine what had happened the night before.

About to push through an ornate door, Rachel was stopped in her tracks by the sound of Helen talking on the other side; it sounded as if she was speaking on the telephone and although she couldn’t make out the words, Rachel had the distinct impression that she was deliberately speaking quietly. A cold, hand swept through her and feeling increasingly disconcerted, Rachel strolled into what turned out to be Helen's enormous and equally impressive kitchen, trying to act as casual as possible.

She was standing in the far corner, her blackberry pressed close to her ear, looking troubled. Clocking Rachel's entrance, she visibly coloured but when she spoke, her manner was all business.

"Yes...I’ll have to go now...So… If you could just sort that out for me I'd appreciate it..Yes…I'll explain later…Yes… No… Yes…yes... Goodbye."

She abruptly ended the call and Rachel watched with interest as she then switched off the handset and placed it out of sight in her dressing gown pocket.

"Just work," she mumbled, looking anywhere but into Rachel's eyes and then scurried across the kitchen to greet her. "Good morning sleepy head. I was just making you a coffee. How are you feeling?"

"Fine thanks," Rachel lied. "I can’t stay for coffee though… Sorry.. Mike's just called… If I don’t meet him for training he'll never speak to me again."

She was crestfallen. "Really? On a Saturday morning? Do you have to?"

"Yes… And trust me I'd rather not… But the race is next week and this will probably be my last full training session."

Helen sighed, tucking her hands into her dressing gown pockets. She looked remarkably fresh, considering what had obviously been a heavy night.

Rachel approached her tentatively. "Er… About last night."

Helen's smile returned in a flash and she reached out and grabbed both of Rachel's hands. "I know! It was wonderful wasn't it!"

Rachel's heart sank. How could she possibly admit that she couldn't remember a thing about it? Instead she mutely nodded her agreement.

"I'm so glad that we managed to…you know… reconnect. So… I'll see you later…Yes?"

"I don't know," Rachel said uncomfortably. "I need to train this morning and then I have some research to do… and I really must try and speak with Mel. We have work issues to discuss."

"Fair enough." Helen's voice was cold and she folded her arms across her chest defensively.

"I'll call you later?… Okay?"

Helen shrugged and, unable to stand another second of it, Rachel turned to quickly make her escape.

Chapter 35

"So... you decided to turn up then?" Mike's mouth was fixed in a tight, grim line.

"I'm sorry," Rachel offered testily. "It won’t happen again."

"It had better bloody not."

Turning his back on her, he crossed quickly to where his bicycle was leaning against the wall and wheeled it around to the roadside.

Rachel glanced about at the deserted car park. "Where is everybody? I didn’t realise I was so late."

"I've sent them to train in the woods… We're alone this morning… Just you and me… I hope you’re ready to work hard."

Rachel slowly nodded. She felt anything but ready to work hard; her head was pounding, she felt sick and she was dehydrated. "What do I have to do?"

"It's very simple love," he replied, climbing astride his bike and peddling out into the road. "You just have to keep up."

Without a backward glance, he struck hard at the peddles and powered out on to the road. Realising what was expected, Rachel bolted after him. In a few strides she had caught up and stole a glance sideways to find him focussing on the road ahead; his face fixed and serious. She wanted to ask him where they were going; how many miles and at what pace, but knew that he was in no mood for conversation, so instead she kept her mouth shut. With the distinct feeling that Mike was about to make her pay for skipping training the previous day, she quickly readied herself for whatever horrors he had in store. Concentrating on relaxing her body and steadying her breathing, she quickly she fell into a rhythm beside him.

Almost immediately, her mind wandered back to her brief return to the apartment, half an hour earlier. There had been no sign of Mel; all her belongings had been removed, leaving the place eerily silent and empty. The growing mountain of clutter had been a source of much irritation to Rachel, but now that it was gone, she couldn’t help noticing how bare the place was. The air was fresh with polish and beside the telephone in the hallway there was a cheque for £500 along with Mel’s keys.   All in all, the effect had been devastating and it was all Rachel could do not to cry. Maybe she had overreacted to events of the previous day; Mel was her best friend after all and she had been a good friend over the years. Perhaps Rachel could have tried harder to understand, and not been so judgmental. After all, she had spent the night with Helen! She was hardly in a position to form an opinion on the propriety of anyone’s sexual antics.

As she removed the cheque from where Mel had placed it beside the phone, Rachel had noticed for the first time that there was a message on the machine. She rarely looked at the old answering machine these days, because nobody ever seemed to use it. She had no idea how long the message had been there. She hit play and listened to the mechanized, female voice announcing that there was “One new message,” which had been left at “7am on the fourteenth of September.”

Rachel was confused. Who would be ringing her at that time on a Tuesday morning? Her question was immediately answered, as the crackling soundtrack reverberated around the hallway.

“Hi darling…it’s Helen! I’m sorry to call so early. I‘m on my way to work and I just wanted to catch you before you went out... I must have missed you. Anyway, I’m ringing to remind you about Friday night. I’ve booked the table for 8pm, and I can’t wait to see you. I’m so pleased that we have managed to sort things out… I love you.”

There was a long tone, followed by a click and then silence.

Rachel had stood for a long time trying to work out what on Earth Helen was referring to. She tried to cast her mind back to that morning all those weeks ago, wondering why she hadn’t heard the phone ringing and then it dawned on her that she would probably have been out training. But why would Helen be phoning so early? She had no need to call her before she left, when she could easily call her on her mobile at any time. It was really odd and Rachel really didn’t know what to make of it.

“Concentrate Rachel! You’re dropping behind.”

Mike’s gruff voice, brought her back to the present and seeing that she was indeed falling behind, she accelerated to catch him. A quick glance in his direction revealed that his scowl had softened slightly. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?... Or is this a mystery tour?”

He struggled not to smile. “Why are you bothered? All you need to think about is keeping up. This is a pace run... It’s your last session before you start tapering for next week... So make the most of it and stop asking daft questions.”

“I don’t think it’s a daft question... I need to know how far we’re going so I can judge my pace properly.”

“Let me judge the pace. You just stay focussed and relax.”

“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly. “But please tell me we’re not running up Beacon Hill.”

Mike turned to her and for the first time that morning, he smiled. At the same time, Rachel noticed a distinct increase in his speed.

What a bastard, she thought, but somehow she managed to smile sweetly. She was about to run up the steepest hill in the district with a stinking hangover, at a pace set by an angry coach with his mind bent on revenge. This was rapidly turning into a very bad day.

As they approached the crest of Beacon Hill, Rachel felt as if her lungs were about to burst through her chest and her legs were heavy and cramping. Mike remained alongside her and occasionally shouted encouragement, but everything in her body was urging her to “give up.” But Rachel didn’t give up. She kept going and with a tremendous effort, she managed to subdue the negative voices in her head and instead concentrated on speeding up. The angle of the hill was ferocious and just putting one foot in front of the other was using huge amounts of energy, but in spite of everything, she lengthened her stride and struck out for the top of the hill. Bile burned at the back of her throat and no matter how hard she sucked in the air, she just couldn’t get enough oxygen, but still she kept going and then suddenly Mike was the one falling behind and, as she pumped and blasted toward the pinnacle, she had the strange sensation of freedom, as everything clicked and her body began to glide smoothly like a machine, and easily leaving Mike as if he wasn't moving at all. Somewhere in her consciousness she heard his voice behind her, but the words didn’t make sense. The only thing in her head was the desire to keep driving onward and the sweet sensation of flight, as she ripped up the road, pressing onward at a speed she knew was quite alien to her.

Finally the words registered in her mind. “That’s it! Rachel!..That’s the top...You can stop... Stop here Rachel...You’ve done it!”

Reluctantly, she slowed to a trot and almost immediately her vision began to blur and she was almost knocked sideways by a monstrous wave of nausea. In no time at all, Mike had jumped off his bike and he was standing beside her, supporting her weight. His voice was calm and tender. “Well done love... Bloody brilliant effort. I can’t ask for more than that....Now you’re ready.”

She looked out across the sweeping valleys of Lancashire, falling away before her like rippling torrent of green and grey. The air on her face was cool and the morning light startlingly clear. For a moment she stood like that, allowing Mike to support her and gazing out across the county until the land and the sky blurred together at the horizon. Eventually the sickness subsided and was gradually replaced with a feeling of euphoria. She knew Mike’s words were true. She had never run as hard or as fast in her life, and there was nothing left inside her. There was no more she could do to prepare for the race. All that remained was for her to rest and then take her place alongside Jodi Samuels on the start-line. And then it would be just between the two of them.

Chapter 36

Under strict instructions from Mike to “do nothing and eat plenty” Rachel was determined to make the most of the opportunity. Consequently the remainder of the weekend passed pleasantly, in a haze of old movies, Jeeves and Wooster and chocolate. It would have been perfect, had she not been compelled to check her phone every few minutes, hoping for a message from Mel or Ali or even Helen. But there was no word from anybody and when Rachel finally crawled into bed at the end of a lazy Sunday, she felt almost lonely.

Lying in bed, she was immediately bombarded with a wave of anxiety about work the following day. She wasn’t sure that she would be ready to face Mel, but she really needed to try and make things up with her.

It was only then that she remembered that she wasn’t going to work in the morning; she had an appointment at the hospital; the same hospital where Ali worked! Perhaps she would see her there. Her heart surged at the thought and just briefly Rachel allowed her mind to linger over Ali; the warmth of her skin, her tender touch. For a moment she could almost taste Ali’s lips and the sensation consumed her until she could only lie in the darkness, willing her body not to respond. But as always, it did.  With heat radiating up from her centre, Rachel’s remembered the sweet sensation of Ali’s fingers, expertly tracing a line down her stomach. The memory was accompanied by a delicious spasm of pain in her core and for a moment, Rachel wanted to reach down and relieve the steady urge that was building inside her, but then she remembered how they had parted; Ali’s sad expression as they said their cool goodbyes that morning and almost instantly the excitement that had been threatening to overwhelm her, was gone.

Ali was without doubt the most desirable woman she had ever known; the fact that she didn’t feel the attraction seemed terribly unfair. It was as if, just for a while, Rachel had held something very precious, and then, through some carelessness that she didn’t fully understand, she had let it go. With sadness heavy on her chest, she tried to think of something else and inevitably her thoughts wandered to Helen. For about the millionth time that weekend she wondered what had happened between them on Friday night. She still couldn’t believe her own recklessness. She would have to call and find out once and for all what had passed between them and then assure her that, whatever it was, it would not be happening again. Briefly she contemplated phoning right there and then, but quickly dismissed the idea. For now at least, she might as well malinger in her ignorance. After all, she was pretty sure she knew what had happened. She just didn’t want to admit it.

And then there was that weird answer phone message.  Helen never left messages on the landline; she only ever used her mobile, and that message made it sound as if they were back together. Thank god nobody else heard it. And then the thought struck her; what if somebody else had heard it. When a message was received on that machine, you could hear it all echoing all over the apartment and now that she thought about it; wasn’t that the morning when Ali had been there- the same morning she left without an explanation. Rachel’s mind whizzed back at lightening speed and then suddenly there was a fleeting image, a hazy memory of Helen’s car disappearing from sight, as she returned from her run that morning. Could it be that Helen had driven past and seen Ali’s car in the parking lot and then deliberately left the message, knowing she would hear it? Could she really be that devious?

Closing her eyes, Rachel lay back on the pillow and tried to sleep; but she knew already it was going to be a long and restless night.

***

Hospital waiting rooms were a source of much perplexity for Rachel. How was it that such a small infirmary as this, serving an insignificant corner of rural Lancashire could constantly be overwhelmed by so many people in need of an X-ray? Were the good people of the district really so unfortunate? Were there chemicals in the water? She sat squeezed into a plastic seat, between a dirty vending machine and a rather smelly boy, who judging by his permanent frown and ludicrous headgear could only be a young teenager. He was cradling one poorly hand in the pink palm of his other hand and occasionally mewling in discomfort. At each fresh exclamation Rachel smiled at him, raising her own plaster cast in a gesture of camaraderie, but he either didn’t notice or deliberately ignored her efforts and instead focussed his attention on the overhead TV, where Jeremy Kyle was interviewing a bawling woman, who wouldn’t have been at all out of place among Rachel’s present company. 

The air was stuffy in the waiting room and the atmosphere rank with antiseptic and unwashed bodies. The boy beside her shuffled irritably, his left thigh encroaching even further onto Rachel's seat. She was about to object, but once again he groaned dramatically and so instead she sighed, hoping he would return the offending thigh to his own side, but he didn't.

Occasionally a Doctor would appear carrying a clipboard, and then disappear again, but there was no sign of Ali and Rachel wished that she didn't find that so very disappointing. Why couldn’t she just forget her?

"Rachel Ryder!"

The summons had been issued by a fresh-faced nurse, who had appeared from the entry marked "Fracture Clinic". He was carrying a bundle of notes and as he glanced expectantly across the sea of heads, Rachel waved her good arm. Somehow she managed to squeeze herself free from the chair and then, ignoring the baleful glares of the moaning boy, she followed the young nurse around the corner and through a maze of corridors, until they finally arrived at the clinic. The waiting room here was practically deserted and accepting her notes from the Nurse, she sat alone at the back of the room.

With no idea how long she would be waiting, Rachel grabbed a magazine from a small table in the corner and began leafing through the pages, which appeared to be mostly dominated by images of celebrities; all in various states of inebriation. Apparently a teenage socialite, famous only for a lurid and brief sexual encounter with a footballer, had bought a new Chihuahua, called Mayfair. How fascinating.

"Hi Rachel."

She almost jumped out of her seat and dropping the magazine, she looked up to find Ali standing over her. She was smiling and looked amazing in black sweater and slacks and a pristine doctor's jacket.

For a moment Rachel couldn’t speak. She willed herself not to blush, but her cheeks were already blazing and she imagined herself turning an alarming shade of purple.

"Are you okay?" Ali asked, her smile fading slightly.

Rachel nodded and pointed to her wrist.

"Ah right. It's coming off today is it? That's good news."

"I hope so… They haven’t checked the x-ray yet."

"I'm sure it will be fine." She crossed her arms across her chest and her eyes swept down fleetingly. "You look… very well… How's your training going?"

"Good thanks. The race is next week."

"I know," Ali said, looking slightly self-conscious. "I…er … I saw the article in last week's paper."

Rachel closed her eyes. "Oh god… Not you as well. It was an awful piece. I don’t know how the papers found out about it. I certainly didn’t tell them."

Ali perched on the empty seat beside her and Rachel was momentarily enveloped by a heavenly cloud of her scent. "Not at all! I thought it was wonderful… It should be in the papers. It’s amazing that you’re competing in a national event like that. You deserve it. And the picture was " she checked herself and when she spoke, her tone was softer. ".…I liked the picture very much."

Rachel looked at the floor, the wall, the magazine on her lap, in fact anywhere except into Ali's eyes. "Thanks," she muttered and her heart fluttered in her chest as Ali sidled closer.

"I was hoping you might call me."

Rachel finally summoned the confidence to meet her gaze. "Really? Why?"

Ali frowned. "I… I just hoped you would...”

“You could have called me.”

“I could have but...I guess the way things turned out in Cumbria... I wasn’t sure you would answer...” her voice trailed away and she looked at the floor.

Rachel paused a moment. This was the last thing she expected and there was suddenly so much she wanted to say. "It would have been nice to hear from you." she managed eventually.

Ali seemed surprised. "Really?"

"Yes… Of course."

Ali looked genuinely confused by this and Rachel was about to ask her about Helen’s message, when they were interrupted by the arrival of another doctor, a junior apparently; who hovered behind Ali impatiently, shifting from one high heel to the other and tossing a mane of golden hair over her shoulder.

"Doctor," the blonde said, in a tight, clipped voice. "I've been asked to fetch you."

Ali glanced briefly over her shoulder, clearly annoyed by the interruption. "I'll be with you in a moment Sam."

But the gorgeous woman was not to be deterred and she remained where she was, a perfectly manicured hand perched defiantly on one hip. "It is quite urgent."

Ali sighed and gazed at Rachel apologetically, who was wondering if their unwanted guest could feel the waves of resentment she was sending in her direction. There was something about the way the woman was looking at Ali that bothered her.

"You had better go," Rachel suggested quietly.

With a small frown Ali clambered to her feet. "I'm really sorry. Can I buy you a drink before you leave? I've got a break in an hour. Will you still be here?"

"I can be."

"That’s great.  Meet me in the café. They do a mean cappuccino."

Rachel nodded as the young doctor sighed irritably in the background. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

She watched Ali hurry out of sight around the corner, quickly followed by the blonde and wondered if her jealousy was as obvious to behold as it felt. Still it wasn’t enough to dampen her spirits. Ali wanted to see her and in spite of everything that had happened, Rachel was powerless to resist.

***

Rachel's hand looked strange. Like some withered old thing, it seemed lessened somehow; pale and wrinkled. She held it out before her, flexing her fingers and then making a fist. The pain that accompanied the movement was almost pleasant, like stretching out, after a very deep sleep. She had no idea how it had become so grubby though, being as it had been hidden from the world for over seven weeks. Also, there was a faint, but undeniably offensive odour rising from it and she couldn’t wait to get home and have her first real shower in what felt like an age.

Hoping nobody would notice the smell, Rachel tucked her hand under the table and checked her watch again. It was almost half past and looking increasingly as if Ali wasn't coming.

She took a deep draft of her coffee, which turned out to be worthy of the recommendation, and glanced around the refectory. The customers were mainly hospital staff; doctors, nurses and support personnel, all looking equally exhausted, but still smiling and joking in their various conclaves. It was nice to see such obvious fraternity. If only it could be more like that on campus.

Rachel was about to get up and leave, when she saw Ali sweep through the doors and scan the room, looking more flustered than she had ever seen her. Spotting Rachel she hurried over to her table, but didn’t sit down and instead lingered beside her, sweeping a few strands of hair from her eyes.

"Hi," she said, breathlessly. "I'm sorry I’m late. I'm so glad you waited for me."

"It's okay… I can see that you're busy. We can leave it for another time if you like."

"No!" Ali replied with surprising forcefulness. "You're here now… and I've got a few minutes."

Rachel smiled as Ali settled into the seat opposite her. She wished that it wasn't so good to see her, but it was impossible to deny the mild feeling of elation she was experiencing just from being in her company. She really needed to get a grip.

"Did they cut you free then?" Ali was trying to peer under the table at Rachel's shrunken hand.

"Yes… thank god. Just in time for the race."

Ali laughed mildly. "That's good news… although you managed to cope very well without it…I mean… it didn’t seem to hold you back… Er…the plaster-cast didn’t slow you down…running... I mean running."  Now Ali was blushing and Rachel smiled in spite of herself.

"Thanks… But I really am a lot better without it."

Ali was almost scarlet. "If you say so."

"Was there something you wanted to talk to me about… particularly?"

She seemed momentarily perplexed and eventually shook her head. "Not really… I just wanted to see you and catch up. How are you? What have you been up to?"

"Nothing much…training mainly." For the briefest moment an image of herself scurrying guiltily from Helen's apartment lingered behind her eyes and she pushed the thought away. "It's been all work and no play," she lied.

"For me too," Ali said. "I seem to be living in this place at the moment."

"It's very exciting… to see you at work…I'd almost forgotten."

"Forgotten what?"

"How much I like that you're a doctor." Rachel knew she probably shouldn't say it, but it was too late to take it back.

Ali laughed and relaxed in her seat. "Well…for what it's worth, I like that you're a Lecturer too."

Rachel looked down at the surface of the table, allowing herself to bask in the temporary warmth of Ali's company. It felt so good to be near her. “It’s hardly the same,” she muttered. “You’re here saving lives and I’m debating nonsense with a troupe of scruffy students.”

Ali laughed again. “You really are hilarious Rachel...I’m sure there’s a lot more to what you do than that.”

“Well maybe a little...but deciding whether or not trees falling in empty forests make noise, hardly compares with open heart surgery.”

“If it’s any consolation...I don’t perform open heart surgery...Today in fact I have dealt with one sprained ankle, a bad case of flu and an in-growing toenail.”

“Nice.”

A silence descended on them and Rachel mentally scolded herself for having nothing remotely interesting to say. She only had a few minutes and needed to think of something that sounded vaguely intelligent before Ali had to leave.

"What kept you anyway?" she asked finally, wondering if the question was impertinent.

"Oh… just a patient… The usual stuff… Did you not get my message?”

Rachel shook her head. "Message?"

"Yes… I asked Sam to tell you I'd be a little late. I assumed that was why you were still here."

Rachel was frowning before she could stop herself. "I didn’t get any message. Is Sam the lady who was with you earlier?"

Ali nodded. "Yes… she's a junior. I'm mentoring her.”

I bet you are.

Somehow Rachel managed to force a smile. " Maybe she couldn’t find me."

Ali looked troubled. "Maybe.”

"Or perhaps she has a huge crush on you and decided not to pass on the message at all."

Ali laughed, but Rachel couldn’t help noticing when she averted her eyes. "Oh… I doubt that." She muttered.

Rachel’s pulse flashed and a stab of envy punched her hard in the chest. "Do you?" She knew she had no right to ask, but it was obvious that Ali was keeping something from her.

"Let's not discuss it now… Do you think we could meet up tomorrow, maybe have dinner… I really want to talk to you?"

But it was too late. Ali's response had confirmed Rachel's worse suspicions and she didn’t need to have dinner with her to be told that she had found someone else; someone who wasn't a patient, someone she had more in common with and whom she actually preferred.

She climbed to her feet quickly, and Ali looked genuinely surprised. "I can’t tomorrow…I'm seeing Helen."

The minute the words were out of her mouth Rachel regretted them; it was jealousy perhaps, or maybe just plain idiocy. It took a moment for what she had said to register on Ali's face, but when it did the effect was dramatic. All her previous warmth evaporated and her expression was transformed into a cool mask.

She too climbed to her feet and glared at Rachel coldly. "Why am I not surprised?"

Now Rachel was angry. "I don’t know Ali… Why aren’t you surprised?”

“Actually... that’s not true… I am surprised...Because I thought perhaps I was wrong about you Rachel...I thought, just maybe I was being paranoid, but clearly I wasn’t.” her voice was controlled but sharp.

 “And what was I supposed to do Ali? Please tell me? Was I supposed to stay at home forever, waiting for you to call, whilst all the time you were having your wicked way with the junior doctors? "

Rachel felt a pang of remorse as the colour drained from Ali’s face. For a moment she didn’t speak; she just stared at Rachel with a look that bordered on revulsion and then she cleared her throat and spoke softly. "I should probably go…I’ve a lot to do... Good luck with the race."

And then all Rachel could do was watch, as Ali turned on her heel and retreated from the canteen. Only then did she notice the silence and the myriad eyes upon her. Apparently most of the customers, who were probably Ali’s friends and colleagues, had watched this bitter exchange and Rachel almost crumpled under the intense weight of their scrutiny. What the hell was she thinking?

Grabbing her coat, Rachel hurried out after her, but when she reached the corridor, Ali had already gone.

Chapter 37

Rachel’s arm throbbed all the way to the campus, but it didn’t compare to the heavy ache in her chest and she was relieved when the grand limestone building finally came into view. She drove too fast into the car park and quickly found a space. Shutting off the engine, she grabbed her mobile from the seat beside her and without giving the matter a second of thought, dialled Ali’s number. She didn’t expect her to answer and so she wasn’t at all surprised when the line switched to voice mail.

“Hi this is Ali’s voicemail. Please leave a message.”

Rachel took a deep breath.

“Ali... It’s Rachel... I just wanted to say...I’m sorry...I’m so sorry for behaving like such an idiot...I hope I didn’t embarrass you…I’m not usually like that...I don’t know what’s wrong with me at the moment... Everything is such a bloody mess. I fell out with Mel, work is a nightmare and I’m worried, ... I’m really worried about the race...I’m not making excuses...Well technically I am making excuses…But I’m also trying to explain why I was acting so insane... And I’m not seeing Helen tomorrow...I’m not seeing her at all... I really don’t know why I said that...I think I was jealous...The truth is...I think Helen wants us to get back together, but I don’t want her Ali... I only want,” the words caught in her throat and she paused a moment, her mind whirring. “I only want... to do the right thing. I might have led her on a little, but it was never my intention and I’m going to fix it. I’m going to fix it today...I don’t expect you to believe me Ali and I can’t say I blame you…but if you have ever seen or heard anything that might have suggested that we were still a couple…well… it really wasn’t the way it looked…I know you probably won’t call me back...but I had to tell you I was sorry and say ...well...how good it was seeing you today. I’m so sorry for upsetting you. I enjoyed seeing you today...Okay… Take care of yourself.”

With nothing else to add, she ended the call and sat for a moment, wondering what to do next. She just needed to get the day over with and then she could drive straight to Helen’s house and tell her straight that there was nothing between them. She didn’t need someone like Helen in her life. She had cheated on her at least once and she would probably do it again. Even if she didn’t, how could Rachel ever trust her? It was hard enough trusting anybody these days. Look at the way she had acted with Ali? An attractive doctor smiled in her general direction and immediately Rachel was frothing like a rabid dog.

The resolve lifted her mood slightly and with her mind made up she jogged across the car park and towards the humanities block. In all the excitement, she had almost forgotten that she still had to face Mel.

She was moving quickly along the narrow corridor toward the Senior Common Room, when she spied Professor Harrison, heading toward her from the opposite direction. There was nowhere for Rachel to hide and she had no alternative but to keep moving toward him. As he approached she noticed that he looked unusually perturbed. His usual sickening self-assurance was nowhere in sight and spotting Rachel, his troubled expression seemed only to intensify.

“Good morning Doctor Ryder,” he whined, hovering before her on unfeasibly spindly legs.

“Good morning Professor.”

“I was rather hoping you would have spoken to your staff about the imminent restructure.”

Rachel frowned. “But you only told me last week. It was my intention to tell them in our team meeting this afternoon.”

He scowled then, creating the unfortunate impression that his ancient face was about to cave in on itself. “That is most regrettable. Had I known that, I would not have announced it in briefing this morning.”

“Oh Jesus Christ!’ Rachel said before she could stop herself.

Raising one eyebrow he nodded slowly. “Quite... And some members of your team seemed to take it rather badly... Ms Bishop in particular has had to go home poorly. It was too much for her, the poor girl.” Somehow, he actually managed to sound sincere when he said this and, briefly, Rachel imagined herself throttling him until he exploded into a shower of dust.

“That is unfortunate. I was really hoping to talk it over with her before it became common knowledge. I thought you would have told me your intention to announce it.”

 “Did I not mention that it would be made public today? Perhaps you didn’t hear me.”

Lying bastard.

Rachel didn’t respond, but only gazed at the Professor with what she hoped was her most disapproving glare.

“Anyway...” he continued, “she knows now... It’s not really the way I would have liked you to handle this Doctor Ryder... In fact, I’m rather disappointed in you...We will need to discuss it at your next supervision.”

She was about to reply, but the professor was already on his way, clicking down the corridor in a miasma of what was probably cheap aftershave, but could equally have been formaldehyde.

Chapter 38

It was almost dark when Rachel managed to finally leave her office later that day, having spent the entire afternoon attempting to clear her desk. As she made her way toward the main road into town, a few flurries of snow were just starting to fall and she looked up at the yellowing skies in disbelief.

“No way,’ she muttered, wondering immediately how this might affect running conditions at the weekend. Racing up Skiddaw in winter was difficult at the best of times; she didn’t even want to contemplate how hard it would be on a frozen carpet of snow.  With her headlamps blazing into the darkness, their twin beams suddenly alive with hundreds of swirling flakes, she put the race out of her mind. She had plenty of time to think about that. For now, she needed to concentrate on Helen and what she was going to say to her. An apology was certainly in order. It was wrong of her to allow Helen to think there was any chance of them getting back together, because that was never going to happen. It wasn’t only because of what had happened when they were together. In fact that barely seemed to matter now. It was because she no longer felt anything for her. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to be her friend.

Moving slowly in the wintry darkness, Rachel found herself thinking back to the night in France, the moment when it had all reached its climax, and just for a second it was as if she was right back there again.

The room was engulfed in darkness, aside from the cool moonlight, which trickled in through a window and pooled on the marble floor.  Turning over in the sumptuous bed, Rachel watched the white chiffon drapes stir in a warm, Mediterranean breeze. 

“Are you coming in?” she asked sleepily. “I feel a bit lost in this bed on my own.”

From somewhere outside, Helen’s voice floated in. “Just a second darling. I’ll be there in a minute.”

But she didn’t want to wait and instead rose from the bed in a contented trance, creeping stealthily across the cool tiles until she was standing at the window, concealed by the drapes, but able to see Helen, who was sitting on the veranda, a tall glass of whisky in her hand, a laptop open on her knee.

Her hair was tied in a loose pony tail, revealing the even tanned skin at the nape of her neck Rachel studied the tiny dark hairs, too short to be captured by the ribbon; now dancing gently in the breeze.

She looked beautiful in the moonlight and for a moment, Rachel thought her heart might burst. How could she ever have distrusted her; this wonderful woman, who looked after her and provided for her and made her feel so special? Apparently oblivious to Rachel’s presence, Helen sipped from the glass and called out to her. “Try not to fall asleep sweetheart! I’ll be there in a moment.”

It was then that she noticed the computer screen. Helen was chatting to someone online; her fingers rattling across the keyboard.

Something lurched in Rachel’s stomach as she looked harder and realised she was talking to Jo, a young woman she had recently represented in a professional tribunal and with whom she seemed to have formed a brief friendship. Before coming on this trip, Helen had assured her they were no longer friends. She said Jo was becoming “a little over familiar” and Rachel had accepted this explanation without question.

And yet here she was, sitting outside their hotel room, chatting with Jo online. It didn’t seem to fit somehow. A thumbnail of the woman popped up on Helen’s screen; fresh-faced and dangerously pretty, alongside some text in a speech bubble. Uncomfortably aware of the tightening in her throat, Rachel leaned in closer, looking carefully at Jo’s instant message.

For a moment her heart seemed to stop and she gasped. Her mind was racing so fast she couldn’t quite comprehend the whole sentence, but she was able to read enough to capture the general essence of it. Every word slammed into her consciousness like a wrecking ball, the tiny phrases assaulting her senses and sending her staggering back into the bedroom. “I miss you... fucking me... your touch...your mouth... inside me... want you...miss you...love you.”

Rachel stood in the centre of the bedroom, completely still, gazing dumbfounded at Helen emerging through the drapes; an expression of horror on her face.

“Rachel,” she whispered, taking one step toward her and then stopping in her tracks. “I can explain.”

***

Rachel turned off the main road and into the wide crescent, where Helen now lived. It was in the more affluent district of town, that was principally made up of executive apartment blocks; gleaming, generic monstrosities that were slowly draining all character from this end of the town.

There was a slight anger bubbling inside Rachel. It had been a long time since she had really thought about that dreadful night and its aftermath; the excuses, the convoluted tales, the lawyer defending her client, the lawyer defending herself and although time had lessened the injury, the scars were still smarting.

By the time she pulled up outside Helen’s block, the snow was accumulating in piles against the walls and street lamps and an icy wind sent fat flakes swirling in all directions. She needed to get this over with, so she could get home before it became too difficult to travel at all. She stepped out onto the pavement and with her boots sinking into four inches of snow, she dashed to the front door, quickly locating Helen’s number and hitting the buzzer. She waited for her to answer, scanning the deserted street, where Helen’s shiny Mercedes was slowly disappearing under a pristine layer of white.

Suddenly Helen’s voice crackled from the small speaker. She sounded irritated. “You’re early.”

Rachel paused a moment. Was she expecting someone else? “Helen...It’s Rachel...Can I talk to you?”

Rachel thought she heard a small gasp, but it could easily have been a fault with the intercom and when Helen next spoke, her voice was easy and confident. “Rachel! Hi...what a nice surprise…come in.”

The door buzzed and Rachel pushed her way into the warmth and light of the communal foyer. By the time she had arrived at Helen’s doorway, she was standing, half in and half out of it, ready to greet her. “Rachel! How lovely to see you! Come in.” She looked great in pale skinny jeans and a black shirt, loose at the collar. Seeing the snowflakes on Rachel’s coat she frowned. “Is it snowing?”

Rachel followed Helen into her sumptuous hallway, shaking the icicles from her scarf. “Er...yeah! It’s like bloody Siberia out there. Where’ve you been?”

“I’ve been working from home ... I haven’t been out all day. I didn’t even notice.” She checked her watch. “My god is that the time?...No wonder I’ve got cabin fever...Let’s go out and grab something to eat.”

“I really can’t,” Rachel said, handing Helen her coat. “I can’t stay very long...besides it’s really bad out there. Can’t we just stay here? I need to talk to you.”

Again Helen frowned, slinging Rachel’s coat over the bannister, before planting her hands on her hips. “That sounds ominous.”

Rachel didn’t reply.

“Uh oh,” Helen said with forced levity. “Definitely ominous... Well if it’s going to be one of those conversations let’s at least nip down to Sam’s bar.... I could murder a large one.”

Rachel shook her head. “No Helen! I’m sorry. I only need five minutes.”

They stood for a moment in the long hallway, the silence between them as unyielding as a brick wall. Finally Helen sighed and turned in the direction of the kitchen. “Okay... I’ll make some coffee.”

***

Helen seemed unusually anxious as she joined Rachel at the kitchen table. She slid a steaming cup across to her and placed her own down beside her blackberry. “Are you not training tonight?” she asked lightly.

“No...I’m resting...for Saturday...Besides,” she gestured to the window, “there’s not much I could do in weather like this?”

“I suppose not,” Helen said, her gaze flitting from Rachel’s eyes to the clock on the kitchen wall.

“Were you expecting someone?”

Helen laughed. “No...No...Not at all... I was just wondering where the day had gone.”

“Are you sure? If it’s a bad time I can go.”

Smiling her most reassuring smile, Helen reached across the table and took Rachel's hand in her own. “I’m not expecting anyone. I’m just going crazy from being cooped up in here all day and besides, it’s never a bad time where you’re concerned.”

Carefully, Rachel slipped her hand free and rested it around her mug.

“Oh!” Helen said with a start. “Look at your wrist. It’s all better!”

Rachel nodded and smiled.

“And just in time for the race. You must be relieved.”

“Helen,” Rachel spoke softly. “I don’t want to talk about the race....I just want to talk about...” She faltered and Helen leaned toward her across the table.

“Friday?...Do you want to talk about last Friday?”

Rachel gazed down into the black liquid in her cup. It was a relief not to actually say the words. “Yes... I need to know what happened.”

Helen laughed lightly, but there was just the mildest note of derision in it, causing Rachel to squirm in her seat. “I wondered if you would remember... you were pretty hammered.”

Rachel looked up again, aware that her expression was challenging. “Remember what exactly.”

Apparently enjoying the moment, Helen relaxed back into her chair. “I could be offended you know... You could wound a girl’s pride.”

“Somehow I doubt that...Stop playing games Helen and just tell me... What happened?”

“You mean when we got back here?”

“You know what I’m asking Helen? Did we sleep together or not?”

Helen closed her eyes and smiled, but now there was no warmth in her expression; just the slightest trace of regret. She sighed. “No... We didn’t... We kissed a little...it was nice...But when we got to the bedroom... you passed out. I put you to bed and I slept on the sofa...that’s it.”

Rachel felt her shoulders sag with relief and she rubbed her eyes. She felt suddenly tired, as if the day had been longer than usual. “Thanks Helen. I really appreciate that.”

“What? Me telling you what happened or not taking advantage of you.”

“Both I suppose.”

Helen looked slightly wounded. “I’m not a total shit you know.”

“I know that.”

Again they ran out of words and Rachel drank deeply from her mug; the bitter fluid warming her instantly. When she looked up she found Helen’s eyes upon her; they were curious and searching. “So...” she said tentatively. “What now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are we going to try and sort things out or not? There’s still something between us Rachel... I can feel it. There’s no point you denying it.”

Rachel felt a stab of guilt and braced herself. She needed to end this right now. “Helen...Listen... I’m really sorry.”

But before she could finish, Helen was out of her seat and pacing across the kitchen. “ I knew it! I knew it the moment I saw your face tonight!”

“Helen just listen to me...”

“You’ll never let me forget what happened in France... It doesn’t matter how many times I deny it or tell you that it was innocent...You just won’t let it go. You insist on punishing me for it...Over and over again.”

“I don’t think that’s very fair Helen...”

“Fair?...I’ll tell you what’s not fair...you ending our five year relationship on nothing more than ...fucking paranoid delusion!”

Rachel stood up quickly. “Helen... I don’t want to talk about this again...I’ve made up my mind... I’m tired...I’m going home.”

She headed toward the hallway, but Helen followed her, catching her as she reached the foot of the stairs. “Is that it? Is that all I get? After all this time?”

Rachel pushed past her, grabbing her coat and pulling it on as quickly as she could. “Helen... What do you want me to say? Let’s not argue...You said you wanted to be friends.”

“How many times do I need to tell you?...Nothing happened with Jo...It was all in your head ...you’ve got trust issues, Rachel.”

Rachel stopped in her tracks and just for a second, everything seemed to slow down. Suddenly she was acutely aware of her surroundings, the deep pile of the carpet...the tiny golden fabric woven into the texture of the wallpaper, the slightly acrid smell of Helen’s perfume. Slowly she turned around to face her, uncomfortably aware that she was trembling slightly.

‘Helen...let me tell you something...If I do have trust issues...it’s only because of you...because of the way you treated me...because of your ...outrageous infidelity...”

“But...” Rachel held up a hand to silence Helen and for the first time ever, she complied.

“But let me put you straight on one thing...I’m not refusing to get back involved with you because of what happened in France, or because of any of the other countless occasions when you were probably unfaithful to me...although that is more than enough reason... No Helen, the real reason I am refusing to let you back into my life is because... I just don’t love you anymore... And that isn’t because I have trust issues or because I’m paranoid...It’s because now I can see you for who you really are.”

Rachel waited a moment, studying Helen’s wide-eyed amazement and then, feeling a little light-headed she turned and made for the exit.

“It’s because of that doctor isn’t it?” Helen’s voice behind her sounded small and beaten.

Rachel paused at the door, her hand resting on the handle.

“I saw the way you looked at her. You’re in love with her aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Rachel admitted, before hurrying out into the night.

It had stopped snowing by the time Rachel arrived outside, but the air temperature had dropped even further and the wind was like a blade. Taking care not to slip, she crossed the pavement gingerly and was fumbling to find her keys when she saw that Helen had followed her outside.

“Rachel...” she said, hugging herself against the cold. “Just hang on a minute... Don’t leave like this.”

But Rachel had now found her keys and was struggling to open the car door.

“I think you’ve got a damn nerve accusing me of being unfaithful, while all the time you were seeing that Doctor.”

Rachel somehow managed to force her key in the frozen lock, but she stopped what she was doing, at the sight of another car approaching. She didn’t immediately recognise the BMW crawling slowly toward her along the deserted street, but as it passed under the streetlamp, the driver came into view; her face was horribly familiar. The car slowed to a halt beside her and Rachel peered inside as the window silently descended. Staring right back at her were the enraged eyes of Jo; she was glaring at Rachel with ill-concealed rage.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded and Rachel could only shrug and answer honestly.

“I really don’t know.” She looked to Helen then, who was frozen on the doorstep, her mouth hanging open in an attitude of alarm.

“I...I can explain,” she stammered, but Rachel was already climbing into her car. Pulling the door shut beside her, she took one last look at Helen; the woman she had loved once. Perhaps she should have felt something then; anger maybe or even regret, but it was a relief to find that she felt almost nothing at all. Firing the engine, she smiled at Helen in the rear view mirror; she was still rooted to the spot and gazing back at her with a bleak expression. 

“Don’t bother,” she muttered, before stepping on the accelerator.

Chapter 39

In an ideal world, Rachel would have torn up the street like a lunatic, her stereo blaring out an anthem of freedom and the wind in her hair. Sadly, however, the wintry conditions prohibited such a display and instead she could only perform a laborious three-point turn, under the agonising scrutiny of both Helen and Jo, the latter of whom was now crossing toward Helen with a reptilian single-mindedness. Pretending not to notice them watching as she skidded into the kerb, Rachel drove sensibly toward the junction, at five miles per hour. 

Finally reaching the main road, Rachel slipped on her Bluetooth and dialled Mel’s number. The line was still ringing when she finally slowed at a traffic light, and she sat alone at the intersection, listening to her unanswered call as the snow began to fall again. The lights switched to green just as the phone was answered, but much to Rachel’s annoyance, it was only her voicemail.

“Hi this is Mel...do leave a message...and make sure it’s fabulous...”

In an impulsive moment, Rachel swerved across the road and turned onto the main route for Whitington. There was only one place Mel could be hiding right now.

***

Steve lived in a falling down cottage, at the far end of Whitington, just where the farmer’s fields ended and the land swept steeply upward onto Hunter’s Hill. It would have been idyllic had the roof been sound and the walls even. As it was, Steve referred to his house as “a working project” and in spite of the damp and the unfortunate impression that it might collapse at any given second, he seemed to love it.  The cottage was in a remote spot and Rachel had no doubt the roads would be terrible; it seemed unlikely that the salt wagons would venture out to such a lonely corner of the county, but that was a risk she was willing to take.

Twenty minutes later, after a hair-raising journey along frozen tracks, she finally pulled into his long cobbled drive, and noted with some relief that the sitting room light was on. It would have been a perfect end to her day, for her to venture over here on the worst night of the year, only to find nobody at home.

As she crunched up the path squinting into the billowing showers of snow, he opened the door and stepped outside.

“Hey Rachel…What are you doing out here? Are you mad?”

She stopped before him and smiled. “I know…I’m sorry. I just came to see Mel. I assumed she was staying with you.”

He frowned and scratched his head. “She was.”

“She was?”

“Yes… She left this afternoon…She came back from work, said something about losing her job and got a taxi to the airport.”

“The airport? Where was she going?”

He shrugged, looking equally as bewildered as Rachel felt. “Milan…I think.”

“Milan!... What the hell is she doing there.”

He pondered this a moment. “Shopping mainly…You’d better come in. You look like you need a drink.”

***

“I just can’t believe it,” Rachel said, hugging a large mug of hot chocolate against her chest. She stretched her legs out on the rug, warming her feet before the crackling log burner. Beside her, Steve’s cocker spaniel Miles, had settled against her hip in a tight ball and Rachel was too tired to object.

“Yes,” he agreed, sipping from a small whiskey glass. “It was a bit of a shock to me too... Quite impulsive isn’t she.”

Rachel nodded and gazed into the dancing flames. Even by Mel’s standards this was surprising behaviour.

“Did she say when she would be back?”

He shook his head and smiled sympathetically. “Sorry.”

“I really want to talk to her. I was hoping she would come to the race.”

“She might do yet... Although...perhaps she thinks you don’t want her there.”

She turned and glared at him. “Why would she think that? ... She’s my best friend.”

He sipped his drink thoughtfully and looked as if he were about to speak, but then said nothing at all.

Rachel supposed she better deal with the white elephant in the room. “Steve...about last week.”

He flushed instantly. “Rachel I’m so sorry about that...”

“”No Steve...I’m sorry...I totally over-reacted.”

“I’m not sure you did.”

“I did... I realise that now...I think I was just a bit shocked...not because of you guys...you know...having a thing...but because Mel was supposed to be sick and I’m supposed to be her manager.”

He smiled warmly. “Rachel...You’ve nothing to apologise for...It was us who were in the wrong...And I’m really sorry about it... We both are.”

Rachel considered this a moment. It hadn’t really occurred to her that Mel might be feeling guilty too. “But what about work?... She must be so upset about the redundancies...I did try to warn her... In fact that’s why I came back early that afternoon...I feel terrible about not talking to her about it...I’ve only just found out myself... I would have told her sooner if I’d known. “

Steve studied her a moment, as if he didn’t fully understand. “I’m sorry... What do you mean?”

“The redundancies at work ...I feel awful that she is so upset...There’s just nothing I can do to protect her ...It’s not my decision.”

He began to smile then and a glimmer of understanding flashed in his eyes. “But Rachel...Whatever makes you think she’s upset?”

And now it was Rachel’s turn to feel confused. “What?...You mean she isn’t?”

“Not in the least.” He laughed. “She’s absolutely delighted!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“That’s why she flew off to Milan...that old Professor... whatshisname had a little chat with her about the redundancy package they were going to offer her... It’s pretty substantial. She was like a woman possessed when she got home. She said she needed to go to Italy to buy a whole new wardrobe.”

Rachel was smiling in spite of herself. “But...she doesn’t have the money yet, does she?”

“No,” he said with a rueful smile. “But she does have a Visa card.”

For a moment Rachel’s mind was filled with a lovely image of Mel, strutting on massive heels out of the doors of one designer boutique and straight into another, closely followed by a veritable army of subservient shop assistants, all laden with boxes and bags of her purchases. She chuckled. “So she isn’t angry then?”

“Not a bit...she’s grateful. She thinks you arranged it all for her.”

“Well if that’s the case...why won’t she answer her phone? I’ve been trying to ring her all weekend?”

“Ah right...” he frowned awkwardly. “She lost it in the move...She thinks it’s probably still in your apartment somewhere, but she was too embarrassed to call round for it; I think she was hoping you would bring it to work with you today...But apparently you didn’t show up.”

That explained it! “I’ve been to the hospital” She waved her withered arm in the air, wincing slightly at the accompanying stab of pain. “Apparently I’m healed.”

“Brilliant!...Just in time too... You must be psyched for the race.”

Rachel’s stomach lurched and she struggled to her feet, ignoring the grumble of complaint from Miles. “I’m pretty calm about it.”

He watched her face carefully and then grinned. “Liar...you’re shitting your pants aren’t you.”

She sighed and groaned.  “I’m bloody petrified... Especially now that the arctic has dropped on top of us.”

He stood up and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to be great Rachel...I have total faith in you. You’ve done all the work and you’re the best runner in the club. You know what you have to do.”

She smiled up into his dark eyes. “And what is that exactly?”

“It’s very simple Rachel...You just have to win.”

Part Three

Crossing the Line

Chapter 40

"And it’s a freezing day, here in beautiful Cumbria, where the crowds are gathering in their thousands for the Annual Mountain Championships. Elite athletes from all corners of the UK are limbering up as I speak, eager to compete for the coveted title of British Mountain Champion. The main race of the day is of course the up-and-down mountain race; six miles of gruelling trails over England's second highest peak. Standing just to the west of Keswick, Skiddaw is a monster of slate and scree and the three mile ascent to the summit will be a test of both the athlete's endurance and their technical ability; even on a good day, the route is notoriously hard to navigate and very tricky underfoot. Today, as I look up through swirling mist at the snow-capped peak, the climb looks positively terrifying. Still, they're a special breed these fell runners and all eyes will be on Richard Heyes in the men's race, widely tipped to regain his title for the third year in a row and, in the women's race, the fascinating rivalry between Jodi Samuels from Lancaster Harriers and Rachel Ryder from Stanley Striders, is sure to reach an epic climax today. The pundits are favouring Samuels at the moment, but Ryder is having a great season and some people think a shock might be on the car…"

The commentator's voice was crudely cut short, as Mike clambered back into the driver's seat and switched off the car stereo. "That's enough of that." His cheeks were ruddy from the cold air and his eyes bright and gleaming.

Rachel gratefully accepted the coffee he was offering her. "I was listening to that."

"Well you shouldn’t be. It'll only get you worked up." He studied her face a moment and frowned. "Look at the bloody state of you. You already look like you've seen a ghost."

She did feel rattled and tried to steady her fractious nerves. "I didn’t expect it to be on the radio," she admitted.

"Don't worry about that bollocks. Just concentrate on the race."

She peered through the windscreen at the sky overhead, where pale morning light was barely dispelling night's stranglehold and the clouds looked yellow and heavy with snow. It had still been dark when Mike arrived in the small hours to collect her and they had driven in silence along deserted, snow-lined roads until dawn filtered across the horizon alerting them that it was probably time for a pit stop.

"What time is it?" she asked, starting to feel a little nauseous.

"8.30. There's plenty of time yet. Try to eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"I don’t expect you are, but that's irrelevant. If you don't eat something, you may as well not bother running at all." He pulled a bar of flapjack and a banana from a carrier bag in the foot well and pushed them at her. "Here…Get your gob around those…You need some carbs."

She reluctantly accepted the food items and began to peel the banana. Her hands felt weak and feeble. "I think I might be starting with a cold." She mumbled.

"Don't be so bloody daft… That's just nerves… Eat something and let's get back on the road."

Nodding, she took a tentative bite of banana and tried to chomp it, but her mouth felt too dry to cope with the dense fruit and her feeling of sickness intensified. Feeling Mike's eyes on her, she smiled thinly and forced herself to chew.

Seeming satisfied with her efforts he nodded. "Good… You'll feel better when you've had that. Did you sleep alright?"

 She nodded and smiled again, deciding it was probably imprudent to tell Mike that she had barely slept at all and had spent the entire night waking from one horrific nightmare after another, until eventually she gave up altogether and decided to get up and watch television in the sitting room. "Fine thanks," she lied.

He raised one eyebrow, clearly seeing straight through her deceit, before turning his attention out of the window. "Don’t worry," he said eventually. "I never slept properly the night before a race either… Never did me any harm."

She sighed and looked again to the sky. "It looks like it might snow again."

"Aye," he agreed. "It's forecast for later…Don’t worry about it."

"It will make the course harder." She said, slightly irritated by his blasé attempts to reassure her.

He shrugged. "It's the same for everyone. It might slow you down a bit, but it will slow her down too. You'll be alright."

"I wish I had your confidence."

He laughed lightly. "There's nothing you can do about it Rachel. You just have to deal with the conditions and get on with it."

"Great… Any other pearls of wisdom for me, before I throw myself down an ice covered crevasse."

He thought about this a second. "Just run as fast as you can and finish first."

She stared in disbelief, waiting him for him to laugh off this hilarious joke and give her the real race strategy, but he didn't. "Are you serious?" she asked eventually. "Those are my tactics?"

He nodded, seeming slightly bemused by her concern.

"What about my race pace?…How shall I tackle the climb?… Shall I take the lead or sit in behind her? What do you want me to do?…Really?"

Again he smiled and shrugged. "I've just told you… Run as hard as you possibly can. Don’t hold anything back…and finish first."

"And what about Jodi Samuels?"

"What about her?" his expression of ambivalence seemed genuine. "You’re better than her …And you're very strong on the fells, stronger than any other woman in Britain. You'll beat Jodi Samuels. Just run your own race and bloody win it."

"As easy as that?"

"Aye, love." With that, he turned the key in the ignition and the engine of his battered old Ford Escort grumbled to life. "Right…We better get moving. Don’t want you to be late for the start do we?"

"I guess not," she said, feeling more nervous than ever.

***

When they arrived at Race Headquarters almost an hour later, there was barely a space left in the car park, which turned out to be nothing more than an undulating field on the outskirts of town. Across this frozen landscape, hundreds of cars were now neatly lined up in rows and at the far end it was just possible to make out a terrace of brightly coloured tents, variously erected to serve the purposes of Registration, Baggage Store and First Aid. Beside them were a handful of stalls, where local tradesmen were selling their wares to an enthusiastic crowd and, in keeping with the carnival atmosphere, the evocative fragrance of fried onions and hot sugar drifted by with a torrent of spectators; their eyes bright with anticipation. There was only the steely face of Skiddaw, dank and silent, rising ominously beyond this festive picture, to remind Rachel of the real purpose of their visit.

Mike seemed to read her thoughts and as he struggled to position his car into one of the few remaining spaces, he too seemed transfixed by the shadowy colossus in the distance, now disappearing into a cloud of icy fog. Seeing the sudden anxiety on his face, Rachel felt her heart rate quicken and she swallowed hard. He killed the engine and turned to face her. "Don’t worry," he said unconvincingly and hurried out of the car.

Again Rachel found herself staring at the mountain, which suddenly seemed too far away and altogether too immense for someone like her to conquer. Forget winning the race; could she even complete it? She had never competed in this event before, but she had heard the stories and she knew that many better athletes before her had tried and failed. She wondered, not for the first time, why she had ever considered this to be a good idea. What the hell was she thinking?

Mike opened her door and peered inside anxiously. "Just wait here a minute Rachel. Keep warm… I'm going to go and check things out and see if I can find any of the others."

"The others?"  She asked distractedly, still mesmerised by the impossible angle of Skiddaw's South face.

"Aye love… Steve's here somewhere and a few other lads from the club. They're here to cheer you on."

"Oh god," she groaned, immediately feeling the burden of their expectations, as Mike closed the door and disappeared into the swelling crowds.

With her coach gone, she felt acutely alone; his frank and occasionally brutal presence was reassuring nonetheless, and with her nerves shredded and feeling slightly overwhelmed by the task in hand, she would have been grateful even for his unique brand of camaraderie.

Of course, Mike wouldn’t be her first choice of companion, given the circumstances, and just for a moment Rachel found herself scanning the crowds in a futile effort to find Ali; she didn’t of course. Why would she be hereafter the way Rachel had behaved?  In all probability she was at the hospital, mentoring Sam. Rachel had no doubt at all that she was the very last person on Ali's mind right now, but that didn’t stop her wishing she was here and, right at that moment, she would have given anything to see her smile, or feel the warmth of her touch. In an effort to distract herself, from the heavy ache in her heart, she switched on the car stereo again.

"Over three thousand feet of frozen granite, the way littered with ice and mud, boulders, treacherous scree, slippery slabs of frozen rock… Most people would balk at the prospect of just walking up there…. But these brave souls are going to run to the top and then right back down again, and all on the coldest day of the year so far…"

She switched it off again, gagging slightly on the bile, which had suddenly risen at the back of her throat.

Shit in hell.

She wondered if Mel had managed to make it back from Milan in time and immediately found herself yearning for the company of her best friend; someone who could always make her laugh with her political incorrectness and her damning verbal assassinations of innocent passers-by and their fashion crimes, which only she seemed to notice. With that thought in mind, Rachel sidled back into the seat and smiled. Just thinking of Mel’s vicious humour instantly dispelled her anxiety and she was flushed with a warm feeling of affection for Mel and all her outrageous eccentricities. The respite was all too brief however and she was startled by a sharp rap on the window and spun around to find Mike gazing back at her through the frosted pane. He wiped the glass clear, revealing eyes that were wide with excitement. "Come on love…We need to get you registered. They've changed the schedule to beat the weather and are starting your race an hour early. We haven't much time. You need to collect your race number and warm up."

“What?” Rachel was out of the car in less than a second, not noticing the frigid air and the ground like iron beneath her feet. She followed Mike into the mist, jostling through the crowds toward the marquee, where a queue of people were already lining up to register.

***

It took twenty excruciating minutes for her to finally reach the front of the front of the line, but when she did, her temperature was dropping fast and all she could do was dance on the balls of her feet to stave off the cruel grip of the cold and control her nervous energy, which by then was ricocheting around her body like a pinball.

A race marshal sat behind a small desk, pen and application form poised and ready.

“Name and club?” the man said, and Rachel instantly recognised him from the Cumberland Half Marathon; where he had been about to conduct an award ceremony, only to be rudely interrupted by Mel’s dramatic and untimely appearance. 

“Rachel Ryder...Stanley Striders.”

The marshal was about to complete the form on the desk before him, when the pen froze in his hands, and he peered up to look at her again, an ill-concealed expression of interest on his weather-beaten face.

“Rachel Ryder you say?”

She nodded and smiled.

He watched her a moment without speaking, the way a betting man might size up a race horse, and Rachel felt herself blushing slightly. Recovering himself, he scribbled her name on the form and slid it across to her, muttering “Excellent...Excellent...Just sign this please Rachel...It’s just so you won’t sue us if you fall and break your legs.” She glared at him and he laughed nervously. “Not that I’m saying you will, you understand. We have taken every precaution possible...although, you’ll still need to be careful up there. “

Trying to ignore the trembling of her hands, she signed on the dotted line and handed the papers back to him. Her mouth had suddenly gone very dry. “Thanks. How long have I got?”

He checked his watch and frowned. “About 30 minutes before the women’s race starts. You’d better change and make your way over there.” He handed her another envelope and when she reached inside, she found her race number; the number 2. Over the top of the number, the words “ELITE” were emblazoned in red, and underneath them, “RYDER’, bold and black for all the world to see.

“Wow,” she said, accepting a handful of safety pins from him and looking again at the number, to check she was seeing it right. “I’ve never had a number with my name on it before.”

And now he winked and grinned. “From what I hear, you had better get used to it.”

She placed the number back in its envelope and smiled gratefully. “I should probably get moving.”

A number of people had been watching this exchange, and realising who she was, the crowd silently parted, allowing her to pass through. This was a new experience for her and she gazed wide-eyed at he admiring eyes all around her.

“Good luck Rachel,” the man said, watching her retreating back toward the exit.

And then, someone she had never met before patted her on the shoulder; the touch was warm and reassuring. “Good luck,” the stranger said, smiling his encouragement.

Others in the crowd joined in and as she moved slowly through, the realisation rippled back like a wave and suddenly hundreds of voices were joined in unison, gently urging her to run well and wishing her luck. With her cheeks burning, it was all she could do to choke back the tears, which might have been evoked by fear, but most likely were in response to the surprising kindness of a company of strangers. She stumbled into the cold air in a kind of daze and as she did the first person she saw was Ali.

Chapter 41

For a moment she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, but a couple of quick blinks and a closer look revealed that it was indeed Ali; she was standing by the exit, her face taut with anxiety.

Seeing Rachel emerge, Ali waved and hurried forward to meet her.

“Hey you,” Ali gasped, looking self-conscious, with her arms folded across her chest. She was dressed for the elements in a blue technical jacket, thick walking trousers and a pair of hiking boots. As always, she looked stunning.

“Hi Ali...What are you doing here?”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

 “But... Why aren’t you at work?” Suddenly Rachel was out of breath and her palms were sweating.

Ali seemed to find this hilarious and laughed loudly. “I am allowed days off you know... Besides... like I said... I wouldn’t miss your big race.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Rachel had never meant anything so much in her life.

“Are you?”

“Of course...I wasn’t expecting to see you”

For a moment they regarded one another awkwardly. Rachel’s cheeks ached from smiling and she was seized with a sudden urge, to grab Ali and kiss her. She decided not to.  “Ali…” she muttered. “I’m so sorry…about what happened at the hospital.”

Ali blanched a little and then a slow smile spread across her face. “It’s alright.”

“I mean it…I feel awful about speaking to you that way… in front of your colleagues.”

Ali paused before responding, her face uncertain. Then, reaching into her pocket she produced a small envelope and offered it to her. “It doesn’t matter. I understand why you reacted like that…I wanted to give you this.”

“What is it?” Rachel whispered, accepting the envelope and then peering at it, as if it were one of the World’s great mysteries.

“A letter… it just says… how I feel...You should probably read it on your own...Obviously I don’t mean now. Your race is about to start isn’t it?”

Rachel wanted to tear open the envelope and devour the contents, but Ali was right and accepting the reality of the situation, she carefully folded the letter over in her hand. “It starts in about thirty minutes… I do need to go...Thank you though… Can you stay for a while after the race?... Just in case I need any medical attention?” The joke was lame, but Ali smiled all the same.

“I’ll be around somewhere ... In fact I’m staying here tonight.”

“Really? Where are you staying?...I’m surprised you could get a room in town.”

For a moment Ali seemed very far away and then she stepped closer and took Rachel’s hand. Her fingers were surprisingly warm. “I’m not staying in town. I found somewhere else... It’s a place I know by the lake... The service is terrible and the food even worse; but I once spent a wonderful night there... and I suppose it has a special place in my heart.”

At first Rachel couldn’t find the words to reply, but she held Ali’s gaze awhile, enjoying her proximity and the softness of her hand. “How long are you staying?”

“Just one night… I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

Rachel was just about to ask if Ali wanted any company when the moment was crushed by the unmistakable timbre of Mike’s voice.

“Rachel! What the bloody hell are you playing at? You need to move your arse...Right now!”

She spun around to see him lumbering through the crowd toward her, closely followed by both Steve and Mel, who were giggling and holding hands like a pair of teenagers. Mel wore a pale, fur coat, which looked hideously expensive, and hung down almost to the ground over patent leather boots.

Ali laughed. “It looks like Mel has dressed for the occasion.”

“Come on love!” Mike growled. “Get a move on!”

Mel tottered forward and hugged Rachel into a tight, Chanel-drenched embrace. “Rachel darling…I know we need to talk, but I don’t think this is really the time for it …Good luck sweetie... You’ll be wonderful... Don’t forget to comb your hair...in case there are any paparazzi here.”

“Okay Mel...Thanks.” She slipped her the envelope as subtly as she could and whispered in her ear. “Hold this for me…And don’t read it!” Mel’s eyes gleamed with intrigue as she secreted the envelope in her pocket.

Steve stepped forward then and squeezed her shoulder. “Run like the wind Rachel. We’re all behind you.”

“Enough of this.” Mike grabbed her arm and hauled her into a stream of athletes, all heading steadily toward a gate at the far side of the field. “We’ll be here all bloody day,” he grumbled.

Allowing herself to be guided away with the crowd, Rachel looked back, and saw that Ali remained rooted to the same spot and was still watching her. She waved and mouthed “Good luck,” and Rachel waved back, feeling her heart surge with a feeling that might have been love.  Mike urged her forward, and she turned to face him, only to find that he was studying her intensely. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his mouth set in a grim line.

She inhaled deeply and nodded. “I’m ready.”

Chapter 42

The runners were spread out along the start line, pacing and steaming like herded animals. Rachel stood among them, trembling slightly from the cold and acutely aware of Jodi Samuels standing beside her. As always, her main rival had joined her at the line without a word of greeting, and she now stood entirely still, looking straight ahead at the rugged trail, which twisted between two stone walls, meandering gently over a series of moderate inclines, before climbing across the face of a more serious hill and then disappearing from sight altogether. Rachel fought the urge to look at her; it would do her no good at all to see the alert determination in her eyes. As always before a race, Rachel’s legs felt frail and there was a kind of sick dread in her stomach.  At that moment she had no idea at all how she was going to put one foot in front of the other, let alone “run like the wind.”

In an effort to distract herself, she thought back to the route. She had studied the map on numerous occasions and knew it more or less by heart; the trail was simple enough to navigate, heading north out of Keswick, across relatively easy terrain for about a mile and then shifting into a dizzying ascent for the next two miles. The path was relentless though, climbing non-stop for 3000 feet. There would be a marshal at the top, whom she would need to circle before heading back down again on a parallel route. Those who didn’t run on the fells imagined this to be the easy part, but nothing could have been further from the truth and Rachel knew that she would have to use every ounce of her strength and concentration to get down safely. The gradient was so steep and the way so uneven and slippery, every stride on the way down represented a serious hazard and she knew all she had to do was plant a foot wrong and the race would be over. Rachel was more used to running on roads than fells like this, but she had raced her fair share and experience had taught her there was only one way to get safely down from the top of a mountain like Skiddaw; that was simply to throw caution to the wind and run like hell. It was also helpful to pray.

On either side of the path and back into the fields beyond, the spectators were gathering. The air positively fizzed with their excited chatter and, blaring out from a prehistoric loud-speaker attached to a crudely erected scaffold, the stirring strains of Led Zepplin’s Kashmir provided a fitting accompaniment to the occasion.

Rachel scanned the crowd and quickly spotted Mike. He looked nervous, but smiled supportively as she caught his eye. Steve and Mel, who were still giggling excitedly, had joined him and a little further into the crowd, Rachel spotted Ali, squashed into a gap between two other onlookers and looking extremely anxious indeed. Seeing Rachel, she tried to smile, but the effort was unconvincing and the worm of alarm that was already writhing in Rachel’s gut, squirmed all the more vigorously.

A hush fell over the crowd, as the marshal who had registered Rachel earlier, climbed slowly onto the scaffold and tapped the microphone. The music faded away, to be replaced by a series of loud thuds and then a nervous cough, as he cleared his throat. He held up a hand, and a thrilling silence sailed back across the crowd. The blood rushing in her ears briefly deafened Rachel and she thought for a moment that she might actually throw up, but the feeling quickly passed and she turned to listen to the final race instructions.

“Ladies and Gentlemen... Welcome to Keswick for the National Mountain Championships... The first race today is the women’s up-and-down mountain race; a six-mile foot race to the top of Skiddaw and back down again. We’ve had to start a little early folks... There’s more snow coming later, and we need to get all the athletes safely back before then...so apologies for any inconvenience.” A grumble of approval rippled through the crowd and he checked his notes quickly. “I have a few safety messages for the athletes before we set you off. Unlike a traditional fell race, this will be a set route and you must stick to the paths, one to go up, and a parallel one, to get you back down again. There are marshals and regular way-markers to help you navigate ...so you shouldn’t get lost... Having said that, the conditions at the top are bloody awful... so take every necessary precaution. You should all be carrying a whistle and a compass. If you get in trouble, you know what to do... Blow on your whistle and there will be someone along to help you in no time. But remember, if you do use your whistle, your race is over. You need to stay where you are and wait for the marshals; so only use it if you really need to. It’s icy folks, and the mist is bad, so you’ll need all your wits about you.”

Again Rachel’s stomach lurched and she felt her knees give slightly. She stole a quick glance at Jodi, and instantly wished that she hadn’t; she was smiling and looked confident and relaxed.

The marshal continued, “Best of luck to all of you... I’m sure it will be an excellent race.”

Standing in silence, he checked his watch for what seemed an eternity and then, when Rachel was just on the verge of giving up altogether, he raised the starting pistol in the air. Pushing his mouth to the microphone, he began the countdown. “Five... four... three... two... one…”

“CRACK”, the pistol started, ripping through the morning air and jolting Rachel to attention, but before she could react, Jodi had bolted ahead, catching her off guard. There was a roar from the crowd as Jodi tore up the path like a woman possessed, and Rachel could only chase clumsily after her, feeling oddly lethargic and slightly alarmed.

As one, the runners surged forward, the sound of their fell shoes clattering noisily over the frozen path. All around them the air was punctuated with the gasps and groans of their efforts, as they each struggled onward to gain an advantage.

Finding herself boxed in, Rachel tried to force her way between two women who were jostling for position slightly ahead of her, but there was no way through and she could only look on helplessly, as Jodi forged her way to the front, entirely alone. Realising she need to respond quickly, Rachel stepped sideways, and seeing a break, she put her foot down hard and dashed through it. Almost slipping on the slick surface, she somehow managed to stay on her feet, and seizing the opportunity, she raced into a gap and stormed forward.

There was a satisfying “ooh” from the crowd, as she easily passed another couple of runners and, suddenly finding her pace, Rachel hit the trail hard and broke free from the rest. In a matter of seconds there was only fresh air between her and Jodi Samuels, but Jodi was flying now and surging ahead with electrifying speed. Rachel chased after her, but the distance between them remained intact and realising she daren’t risk pushing any harder at this early stage, she had to be satisfied with holding the gap as it was.

As the path rolled up and then down over undulating terrain, Rachel quickly fell in to her pace and in spite of the huge effort it was taking just to keep Jodi in sight, she felt her body start to relax; her rapid breathing began to slow to something that was bearable and she felt the mildest sensation of elation as her body began to work the way that she knew it could.

She checked her watch quickly and was surprised to find they were almost at the first mile. They had covered the distance in five minutes and thirty-five seconds; faster than Rachel had ever run in her life. For a moment she considered slowing down, but then Mike’s parting words reverberated in her brain, “This is it Rachel... don’t hold anything back... Give it everything you’ve got... and when your legs are screaming, and you feel like you can’t go on... run harder.”

Looking up, she saw Jodi follow the path through a small gap in the wall, and as she broke through after her, Rachel had the impression that she had managed to reduce the distance between them, but it was difficult to be sure.

Just as she knew it would, the path began to climb then, and in no time at all, the contours of Skiddaw emerged from the mist like a waking titan, its precipitous slopes bleak and ominous against the white, winter skies. Their intended path rose before them, straight up the face of the mountain, and then disappeared from sight altogether into a summit now engulfed in thick fog.

Rachel looked to Jodi and recognised instantly that her rival was struggling with the gradient. It was hardly surprising as the route was now steeper than anything Rachel had ever experienced, and she felt her own thighs burning as she scrambled upward, her feet slipping slightly as she fought to push off from the icy scree. Trying to block out the pain, Rachel stumbled on, but very soon she was gasping for breath and she had no alternative but to slow down. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed no other runners behind her and when she turned back again, she realised with a thrill, that Jodi was also slowing down and somehow Rachel was closing the gap that separated them. With this to motivate her, she managed to press on a little and by the time they reached the second mile, Jodi was less than five metres ahead. By now however, every step up was heartbreaking, and the steepness of the climb and the rutted, boulder strewn path had slowed them both down so much, they could only shamble upward in a kind of trance, with only their iron willpower to keep them moving at all.

Rachel forgot about her watch. The time was irrelevant. Position was what counted today and with so little to separate them, it looked as if this race would go right down to the wire. She gritted her teeth and counted her strides in a feeble effort to block out the pain.

“Forty-eight... forty-nine... fifty.... one...two... three... four...” she counted, over and over again, in her mind.

Another half mile in and it began to snow; giant, wet flakes, buffeted down the mountainside on a bitter wind. The ice particles stung Rachel’s cheeks and threatened to blind her and at times, she had no alternative but to close her eyes and run obliviously forward, with only faith to keep her from falling. And as the path climbed even higher, she quickly found herself swallowed up into a dense mist; where sound was distorted and the howling wind sounded otherworldly and nightmarish. She knew Jodi was ahead of her somewhere, but she could no longer see her. There was only the distant echo of her footfalls through the vapour to convince Rachel she was there at all. The sound was strangely reassuring.

Rachel was just beginning to lose heart, to feel totally alone and wretched, when she glimpsed a flash of Jodi’s vest, like a yellow beacon of hope less than two metres ahead. She had slowed almost to a walk. Gritting her teeth and ignoring the screeching protest from her aching limbs, Rachel managed to accelerate, and with a massive effort, she skipped past Jodi, who bravely tried to match her pace, but then slowed again, apparently unable to sustain the exertion.

Riding the wave of exuberance that accompanied this small victory, Rachel felt some life returning to her weary legs and then she realised that the path was leveling out and she had almost reached the top. The accompanying relief almost caused her to cry, but pumping her arms, she managed to pick it up a little and sure enough, she soon heard voices ahead of her. As she struggled on, two figures materialized from the fog, dressed in the familiar fluorescent vests of race marshals. They stood on either side of a red flag, which was dancing wildly in the violent summit wind, and hugged themselves against the arctic temperatures.

“Well done love,” one of the marshals gasped, his warm breath steaming out, only to be dragged away by the gale.

“First place at half way,” the other marshal added, her ruddy face barely visible between a thick woolen scarf and a fleecy hat.

Rachel nodded her appreciation and circled the flag, steadying her nerves for what she knew would be a sobering descent.

Just three more miles, she told herself. Three more miles until it’s over.

She followed the marshal’s directions onto a different path, and was soon dropping down, her feet covering the ground with alarming speed, as she flew headlong into the opaque barrier of mist before her.

Rachel glimpsed Jodi somewhere to her right, still grinding her way up toward the summit. It was encouraging to see how much distance she had already put between them. But she knew not to be blasé; Jodi was strong on the descent; nimble, fast and sure-footed and Rachel still had half the race to complete. A lot could happen in three miles and in all the times they had competed, she had never beaten Jodi Samuels. She wasn’t about to underestimate her now. Still, with the path so steep, gravity was soon pulling her back down to ground level at rate of knots, and she decided not to fight it, allowing the forces of nature to haul her back toward home, all the while trying not to think about what might happen if she stumbled or slipped. Travelling at this speed, any lack of concentration could be catastrophic.

But there was something undeniably exhilarating about dashing down the mountainside at a speed far in excess of anything that she would normally be capable of and Rachel felt a surge of joy, as her feet traversed the surface in great bounding leaps.

She covered the next mile in just over five minutes. The wind was biting into her flesh and the snow fell thicker than ever, but suddenly none of it seemed to matter and for a fleeting moment Rachel imagined this might be how it felt to fly; the sense of liberation was dizzying.

She was just approaching mile five when it happened.

The mist was thinning slightly as she neared the bottom, and visibility was slightly better than it had been; but as Rachel caught her toe in an icy tussock of grass and looked down to correct herself, she realized with horror that she had somehow strayed off the path. The snow was thick underfoot, but judging by the protruding stands of bracken and spikey tufts all about her, she was way off course.  She had no choice but to stop, and as she slowly wheeled about, she was gripped by a sudden wave of panic. None of this looked familiar to her. The rolling mountainside stretching as far as the eye could see was nondescript, and increasingly obscured by a veil of mist and falling snow. As if that wasn’t serious enough, the land was slowly being buried under a gleaming crust of white, and everything was starting to look the same, leaving no features at all to navigate from.

Rachel scanned her surroundings in alarm, aware of a cold rivulet of sweat running down her back. There wasn’t a marshal in sight and, come to think of it, where were the way-markers? She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen one! For all she knew, she could be miles off the path; so caught up had she been in the joy of the descent, she had obviously failed to notice that she was wandering off track.

This was bad; this was very bad. She checked her watch. She had covered 4.75 miles and couldn’t be too far from the bottom, but in these conditions a mile and a quarter might as well be an infinite distance.

Rachel had no choice but to accept that she was lost. 

She reached into her pocket, and found what she was looking for; the silver whistle she had brought for just such an occasion as this. But was she really ready to use it? If she blew that whistle, she was admitting that she was defeated, not by Jodi Samuels or any of the other athletes, but by the weather and misfortune, and the very mountain itself. The realisation hit her like a wave and she felt tears welling behind her eyes. For a moment it all seemed futile, and she wondered if any of it had been worth it, the hours of training and self- sacrifice, all in the single-minded pursuit of something that now appeared to have been snatched away from her in the last act, by a cruel twist of fate.

And then she saw Jodi Samuels. She was speeding down the mountain, about twenty metres to her left, completely oblivious to Rachel standing alone and desolate in the mist. Somehow, Jodi must have managed to keep to the path and Rachel knew in a split second what she needed to do; she had to close the gap between them, and get back on the trail behind her.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Rachel was chasing after her rival, but closing the distance back to the path was harder than it looked, and she stumbled over bracken, through the ever-deepening snow, winding her way between massive boulders in an effort to close the gap.  By the time she finally spotted the path, Jodi had pulled out quite a significant lead and Rachel wasn’t sure she could catch her, but she had to try. This was what Mike had been talking about; it all boiled down to this.

With the yellow cotton of Jodi’s vest just visible ahead of her, Rachel scampered down the mountainside. She was quickly able to ratchet up her pace and soon she was matching Jodi stride for stride, although still some way behind her. 

 As the path flattened out at the bottom, Rachel began to recognise her surroundings. The mist was lifting here and as she rounded the bend, the path joined another and she realised she was on the home straight. A quick glance at her watch, confirmed what she already knew. There was just half a mile to go.

Rachel’s legs were tired and her skin was stinging. Sharp pains in her feet, alerted her to blisters which had formed and then burst, and her throat was raw from the freezing air. But now wasn’t the time to feel sorry for herself, and reckoning Jodi was perhaps twenty-five metres in the lead, Rachel steeled herself for what she had to do. She had already given this race everything she had; and she wasn’t sure she had anything left, but she wasn’t about to give this up without a fight.

At that moment, the trail climbed sharply and as she pumped her legs over the crest of the hill, the distant fields came into view. Suddenly she could see the crowds waiting eagerly by the finish; Mike would be there, and Steve and Mel...and of course, Ali. They had traveled all this way to support her; she wouldn’t let them down now.

Gasping for breath, Rachel pushed her body onward. The effort was terrible and in her mind a pernicious voice was telling her to slow down, but this wasn’t the time to slow down, and painful as it was, she somehow managed to speed up.  As they rounded a bend in the path, Rachel suddenly realised that she was catching Jodi. Spurred on by the realisation, she accelerated again, and now she could see she was gaining on her with every stride. But the exertion was truly agonising and Rachel didn’t know how long could sustain it.  With a massive effort of will, she held the pace and slowly and steadily, she arrived alongside her rival.

Startled, Jodi glanced sideways; apparently amazed to see her there and then it occurred to Rachel that Jodi must have assumed she was still in the lead. Realising she still had a chance, Jodi suddenly surged ahead and Rachel almost tumbled as she struggled to catch her.

As they rounded the final corner and crossed the boundary into the home straight, there was a roar of excitement from the spectators; the two women were neck and neck. Sprinting for the finish, Rachel held on for dear life. Her body was screaming and suddenly there didn’t seem enough air in the world to fill her lungs. She knew she was almost spent and that only will and determination were keeping her going.  And then, from the corner of her eye she noticed that Jodi was labouring and all of a sudden she began dropping away. Rachel pulled slightly into the lead and immediately felt a tiny injection of adrenalin. It was all that she needed and with a sudden burst of speed, she pulled even further ahead.  Drawing on everything she had in a massive final effort, Rachel covered the remaining twenty metres in a streak of raw pace and fury.  

She collapsed over the line, dropping to her hands and knees, before rolling onto her back. She could hear the crowds around her, cheering and singing and shouting her name; but at that moment she didn’t much care. She closed her eyes and began to cry.

Chapter 43

For a moment there was only the pain and the darkness and the deafening chorus of her own ragged breathing. None of it made much sense; and then slowly the world beyond began to filter in through her senses; frosty air in her mouth, the hard ground beneath her and all around her the chaotic thunder of feet. Unseen hands were grabbing at her and she opened her eyes to see Mike and Steve dragging her upright. Steve’s face was deep red, his eyes wide and dancing; Mike was sweating. Beyond them, the crowds pressed in on all sides, shouting and laughing and she felt their euphoria warming her from the inside out.

“You bloody did it!” Steve yelled above the din, throwing his big arms around her.

“You did!” Mike gasped.  “You bloody did!”

Rachel nodded and allowed them to lead her on rubber legs, away from the path and toward the changing tent.

“Did I win?” she asked, her voice weak and dry.

Laughing, Mike squeezed her against him. “Yes love,” his voice was unusually emotional. “You won… Mind you, you left it a bit late…nearly gave me a heart attack!”

 The images came flooding back, fleeting snapshots of the spectators drawing nearer as she forced her way into the narrowest of leads. She remembered hearing Jodi screaming in despair as she forged further ahead and seeing Ali’s face in the crowd as she crossed the line.

Rachel stopped in her tracks. “Where is she?”

“Who?” they replied in unison.

Pulling herself free, she staggering backwards and scanned the excited mob, already heading back for the start of the men’s race, but there was no sign of Ali anywhere. Mel, however, was easier to spot; gliding toward her through the crowds like a Hollywood A-lister.

“Babe!” she said, peering at Rachel over a pair of enormous shades. “Well done!” she looked like she was about to embrace Rachel, but paused at the sight of her sweat-soaked vest. She pulled her mink tightly around her, and grinned, revealing a set of recently bleached teeth.  “Oh…My…God! That was amazing!”

But Rachel was too distracted to share her exuberance. “Thanks…Have you seen Ali?”

“Ali?” Mel frowned. “She was here a moment ago… Didn’t you hear her cheering you on? She was going crazy... But she said she couldn’t stay.”

Rachel tried to hide her disappointment, but Mel knew her too well.

“…Oh babe…don’t be sad…She was really pleased that you won…She left straight after the race…She said something about wanting to make sure you were safe.”

 Rachel was about to respond when Mike interrupted by gently pulled her about to face him. Carol Wilson now stood beside him, still wearing the same GB jacket.  She had obviously been watching and her chubby cheeks were rosy from the cold. “Hello Rachel,” she said in a surprisingly loud voice. “I just wanted to say well done. That was a thrilling race...and an excellent performance.  The UK Endurance squad has a meet with France in February. Do you think you might be available?”

Rachel was too astounded to speak, but slowly nodded to show her consent.

“Marvelous,” she said happily. “I’ll be in touch.” And with that she disappeared back into the melee of spectators.

Rachel turned slowly to Mike, whose blue eyes were suddenly watering. He grabbed her shoulder and she felt the tears prickling behind her own eyes. “I knew you could do it,” he whispered, before straightening up and clearing his throat roughly. “Anyway,” he said, in a voice which clearly indicated that normal business was about to resume, “you’d better hurry up and get changed… You’ll catch your death.”

But Rachel didn’t care about the cold and suddenly there was only one thing she cared about. Spinning back around, she grabbed Mel’s arm. “Do you still have my letter?”

***

Tearing open the envelope, Rachel quickly unfolded the sheet of paper. She was cold and wet and her body ached with fatigue, but she couldn’t wait another minute. For a moment her tired eyes refused to focus on the elegant script then slowly the shapes began to merge into something meaningful, and standing alone beneath the creaking branches of an old tree, she began to read.

“Dear Rachel,

It has taken me a long time to find the right words and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for a lot of things, but most of all I’m sorry for not trusting you. 

I’m not the person I once was. I think when someone betrays you so completely, as my partner did to me, it steals away a small part of you; it dispels the childlike confidence we have in the goodness of people and drives away the faith that all will be well in the end. I think perhaps you know what I am talking about. It may be because of this that I have found it so difficult to believe in you. But I always wanted to believe in you Rachel.

I have thought about you so often, wondering if there was any chance for us. I’m ashamed to admit now that I was too afraid to follow my heart. I chose to protect myself, and in doing that I was denying myself the one thing I wanted more than anything else; to be with you.

My instincts have always told me to trust you, but so often your connection with Helen has caused me to doubt. Although you said it was over, the things I saw lead me to suspect otherwise. For a long time I didn’t trust my judgment, but recently I have started to appreciate how easily things can be misconstrued. I don’t blame you for reacting the way that you did at the hospital, in fact it helped me to see how appearances can be deceptive. I can’t tell you how much I now regret not having more faith in you.

I hope in time you can forgive me for that way that I have behaved, although I know I don’t deserve it. I have no expectations, but I needed to tell you the truth; which is that I am hopelessly in love with you and have been from the very first moment I saw you. I’m not asking for a second chance, but I simply have to tell you how I feel.

Love,

Ali

Rachel held the letter against her chest, only vaguely aware that she could no longer feel the cold. Suddenly it all made sense, the changes in Ali’s demeanor, seeming interested one second and distant the next. She had been struggling with herself, trying to overcome the shattering loss of her faith in people. How could Rachel judge her for that when she had experienced the very same thing herself?

She peered up at her friends, who were watching in a huddle from a respectable distance and, tucking the note in her pocket, she crossed the path to join them. 

“Mike,” she said with surprising resolve. “I’m not coming back with you today.”

“Oh…alright,” he replied, without the faintest trace of surprise.

“I’m going to stay here.”

Beside him, Mel chuckled. “Of course you are…you dirty cow.”

***

By the time they drew up outside the Boar’s Head, the snow was falling again. Above the Inn’s frosted walls, two massive chimneystacks puffed their plumes into the darkening skies and, beyond the mullioned panes, an amber glow promised warmth and comfort.

Rachel turned to face Mike, whose face was a jolly crimson from the blast of the heater. “Thanks for the lift,” she said, “…and … for everything.”

 He peered straight ahead, his eyes, bright with excitement. “Alright love… I’ll see you at training tomorrow night.”

“Are you joking? Don’t I even get one day off?…To recover?”

He shrugged. “That’s up to you… Take the whole week off if you like.” He turned to face her, his blue eyes dancing with mischief.

Rachel paused and then smiled. “Okay, okay,” she said, climbing from the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

***

Inside, the Inn was deserted. There was nobody at reception and the foyer was silent and empty. But Rachel didn’t need to ask for help; she knew exactly where she was going, and bounded up the stairs two at a time, her previous fatigue completely gone. Arriving at the top, she turned left and made her way along the narrow passage, leading to the suite they had been given last time.

But when she reached the door, she suddenly paused. Just on the other side, Ali was waiting for her; a woman that she barely knew, but who already meant so much.

She thought back to the words in Ali’s letter, so honest and heartfelt. When you truly loved someone, there was so much they could take away from you; it was the ultimate risk- with infinite potential for loss and loneliness. Rachel understood how it felt to be betrayed; she knew what it was like to have the security of conviction broken, and to be left feeling like less than nothing. The prospect of exposing herself to that again was truly terrifying and she briefly considered turning away and slipping silently back down the stairs as if she had never been here at all.

But she couldn’t leave now; not when it had taken her so long to find her way here.

 Knocking lightly on the door, Rachel stepped inside.

***

About the Author.

Toni James is a prolific writer and teacher, whose work includes novels, plays, poetry and short stories. She currently lives in Lancashire, with her partner and their cocker spaniel Henry. Crossing the Line is her third novel to date.

You can follow Toni James on Facebook

Other Titles from Freya Publications.

      The Lost Resort by Toni James (Available now)

When Eve Harper finds her lover in the arms of another woman, she’s forced to face up to some uncomfortable truths; she’s single, the wrong side of forty and she’s running out of wine!

There’s nothing else for it, but to sell everything and take an extended holiday in Greece.

With her unruly younger sister in tow, Eve embarks on a tumultuous journey of self-discovery and en-route she meets Annie, a troubled teacher from England, Heidi, an ambitious hotelier and JJ, a cute bartender, with an uncanny gift for cocktails.  When she arrives at The Lost Resort, a women-only hotel on the Greek Island of Lesbos, Eve finds her own slice of paradise and, with temperatures rising and passion in the air; she wonders where it will all end. But this is only the beginning.  The Lost Resort is the first in a series of funny, romantic novels set on the Greek island of Lesbos. It is a story about friendship, family and the restorative power of love. 

A Changing Girl by Betty Flack (Available December ‘12)

A Changing Girl is the gripping portrait of Katie Byrne, a young woman finding her way at a University still reeling from the recent disappearance of a student. Carrying her own secrets, Katie tries to fit in, but quickly finds herself drawn to Miriam, a friendless outsider, hell bent on her own destruction. Intrigued by the missing girl and her connection with Miriam, Katie finds herself drawn into a dark and disturbing world where nothing is quite as it appears. A serious thriller, by a serious new writer. Betty Flack's A Changing Girl is a coming out story with a difference. 

SunKissed (Available July 2012)

An anthology of short love stories, with a summer theme.

Visit Freya Publications at www.freyapublications.com