

**AMANDA MARTIN**

TWO-HUNDRED STEPS HOME

VOLUME TWO

Amanda Martin was born in Hertfordshire in 1976. After graduating with first class honours from Leeds University she wandered around the world trying to find her place in it. She tried various roles, in England and New Zealand, including Bar Manager, Marketing Manager, Consultant and Artist, before deciding that Writer/Mummy best summed her up. She lives in Northamptonshire with her husband, two children and labradoodle Kara and can mostly be found at http://writermummy.wordpress.com or on Twitter or Facebook.

Two-Hundred Steps Home is her latest work. Amanda is writing the novel in daily instalments on her WriterMummy blog as part of her 2013 365 post-a-day challenge. This ebook is Volume 2 and contains the 28 instalments from February. Volume 1, containing the first 31 instalments, is also available free at Smashwords.

COPYRIGHT

Published by 3AD Publishers at Smashwords

Copyright © Amanda Martin 2013

Amanda Martin asserts the moral right to be  
identified as the author of this work

Also by Amanda Martin:

Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 1

Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 3

Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 4

Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 5

Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 6

Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 7

Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume 8

Dragon Wraiths

Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes

This novel is entirely a work of fiction although based loosely on the YHA Hostels of England and Wales. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

http://www.amanda-martin.co.uk

http://writermummy.wordpress.com

**TABLE OF CONTENTS**

Title

Copyright

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Follow the Blog

About the Author

ONE

"Ow!"

"Stop being such a girl."

"I am a girl and that hurts!"

Josh looked up at Claire and shook his head. "What possessed you to take your hands off the handlebars anyway? You said you hadn't been on a bike since you were a nipper."

Claire lowered her head so her hair fell over her face. "I felt like I was flying. I wanted to sit up and feel the wind in my face."

"Dingbat! Only the pros take their hands off on a cross-country track." Josh dabbed at the blood pouring from beneath Claire's ripped trousers.

"Oh look at my GAP jeans, they're ruined." Claire's wail at the state of her clothes was louder than the cry of pain as Josh picked gravel from the wound.

"Nothing a patch won't fix."

"I am not putting a patch on my jeans. I might be reduced to sleeping in a bunk-bed and driving a rust bucket but I am not walking round with patches on my clothes."

"Find yourself a Thrifty then. What do you call them here? A charity shop. That's where most of my stuff comes from."

Claire shuddered at the thought of wearing something already used and abused by someone else. _It might be time to dip into my wages again. I couldn't do this backpacking thing for real._ She vowed to find a Mountain Warehouse or whatever at the next decent-sized town she came to. _I'll be buggered if I'm going to wreck my good clothes for Carl's sake._

Josh applied a plaster to Claire's knee and wiped her other scrapes and grazes with an antiseptic wipe.

"You're pretty handy at that first aid thing," Claire said. "I can't stomach the sight of blood, even my own."

"I used to work in a hospital back in Oz." Josh's voice was closed, preventing Claire from asking the questions that pushed at her lips.

"So, what's your plan for the rest of the day, Planning Lady?" He looked up brightly at her and then pushed himself to his feet to sit down next to her at the table.

"Move on to the next hostel. If I leave now I'll be there before reception closes."

"What is the next hostel?" Josh picked at some dirt under his nails.

"Well, the nearest one is a bunkhouse and I've decided to leave those until the summer - I have to come back for Wooler anyway - so I'm going on to _Once Brewed_."

" _Once Brewed_? That's the name of a hostel? Awesome! Count me in!" He turned to face her, his face split in a grin.

Claire took in his expectant expression, like a dog sitting at the fridge. _Oh crap he wants to come with me. What do I do?_ Claire had some notion that backpackers spent a lot of time hitchhiking but she hadn't equated that with taking anyone along with her. _Can I bear to travel with someone? What if I can't get rid of him?_

While her brain churned Josh sat staring, his eyes boring into the side of her face. _Oh what the hell. I can always leave while he's asleep. It might be nice to travel with someone who knows how this hostelling thing works. It's not like we'll have to share a room. Most of the dorms have been single-sex so far._

She turned to face Josh, grinning at the expression on his face. "Sure, why not? Can you be ready to leave in an hour?"

"You bet!" Josh jumped up and went to leave the room. He stopped at the door, walked briskly back to Claire and gave her a quick, odoriferous, peck on the cheek. "You've no idea how long I've been stuck in this damn place waiting for a lift out. You're an angel!" He turned to leave again and Claire called out to him to wait. He turned anxiously.

"Josh? Take a shower."

***

TWO

"God I'm so sorry." Claire flushed as she grabbed Josh's knee instead of the gear stick for the second time.

"No worries."

Even in the dark she could sense his lewd grin. Blood flushed to her face and she turned to concentrate on the road ahead. She was still searching her whirling brain for a safe topic of conversation when Josh spoke again.

"Claire?"

The serious tone made her glance towards him, trying to see his expression in the dark. She couldn't and had to twist her head back quickly to concentrate on avoiding an on-coming lorry.

"Yes?"

"Can I read your blog?"

Whatever Claire had thought Josh was going to say that wasn't it.

"Oh. Sure of course if you want to. You can read it now if you like, there's not exactly much going on out the window." It was dusk and the weak Skoda headlights were picking out only the road ahead. The sky was a beautiful deep blue behind them but ahead a mass of storm clouds loomed on the horizon. Claire reached behind her and retrieved her iPad from the pocket of the rucksack.

"Go to the notes section, you'll see the drafts there." It could probably wait until they got to the hostel but Claire was eager for a second opinion. So far there had been no likes or comments on her posts and only a few visits. She knew she wasn't trying as hard as she could to engage on Twitter and Facebook but she was still a little disappointed there wasn't more response.

Josh stared at the black rectangle in front of him as if it was alien technology. "Um, how do I turn it on?"

Claire held back a laugh. _I guess iPads don't come your way every day when you're on the road all the time_. She conveniently forgot that, until Michael had given this one to her for Christmas, she hadn't known how to turn one on either. She reached over in the dark, careful to touch only the iPad, pressed the button then swiped the screen. She described the icon he needed to tap and eventually he was immersed in her writing.

The breath seemed to stick in Claire's throat as she listened to the silence. Eventually, after far longer than it should have taken to read a few thousand words, Josh raised his head and gazed out the window.

"Well?"

"Very informative." Josh's voice fell leaden into the waiting silence.

"You don't like them?" Claire fought an unexpected desire to weep.

"There's nothing to like or not like. It reads like a website."

"Well, that's what it's meant to be." Claire could hear her voice rising in the dark and fought to keep it level. "The brief was to write about the YHA's 200 hostels and how they promote a healthy lifestyle. So that's what I've done. All the information is there."

"Yes, information. That's the word. It's just information. There's no heart."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"How many followers have you got? How many likes? I know this is the first week but how many people have visited your page?"

Claire found herself surprised at Josh's knowledge of blogging terminology. She couldn't find any words to respond.

"I'm sorry, I've offended you." Josh's voice was soft.

"No," Claire forced out a laugh. "It takes more than that to offend me. I'm sorry you don't like it."

"It's not that. I think what you're doing is amazing. I write a blog for the folks back home when I get near a computer and it's tough thinking of what to write. And it's not my job."

_That explains how he knows more than I do._ She found herself wanting to read his blog, to read about his life on the road.

"Maybe you could guest post on my blog, share your experience of travelling?"

"I can. But this is your blog. You need to write your story. People can go to the YHA website to find out opening times and local attractions. People want colour and texture. Write about hiking the Pennines in the snow. Write about falling off your bike and trashing your trousers. Talk about picking up hitchhikers and seeing the stars."

"I'm not sure that's what Happy Cola really want." _And I don't want the world sharing my humiliations thank you very much._

"Bollocks. They want advertising. That's all they want. They don't care how they get it."

"They will if it portrays their brand in a negative way."

Josh laughed. "How is it negative that a girl from the city who hadn't ridden a bike since she was a kid felt so alive the first time she freewheeled down a hillside that she thought she could fly?" There was something in his voice that Claire couldn't quite place. It made her feel like melted marshmallow in a mug of hot chocolate.

She thought about sharing that part of her adventure on the blog. _I guess it can't do any harm. What does it matter if I humiliate myself? It isn't my name on the blog anyway and no one I know is going to read it. Especially not Michael._ She shook her head at the traitorous words. _Michael, will you sod off out of my mind. It's over and that's the end of it._

Claire looked out the window as the Sat Nav warned her she was nearing her destination. All she could see was a square of tarmac on the side of the road and some buildings set back behind a line of trees.

"Looks like we're here."

She pulled into the car park, glad to have an excuse to finish the conversation. They dragged their bags from the back seat and went in together to check in. All Claire wanted to do was find a quiet corner, get out her iPad, and write.

***

THREE

"Bagsy I get the bottom bunk; I rather fancy you on top." Josh's laughter rang round the small room as Claire glared at him and wrapped her arms around her midriff.

"It's bad enough that you talked me into sharing a room with you. I can do without the suggestive comments. Don't push me or I'll go to reception and move to a dorm. Then you can pay for this whole room by yourself."

"Surely you'd rather share with just me than a room full of chicks you've never met? They might snore."

"You might snore for all I know. Besides I've learned my lesson on that one, I have ear plugs. And don't think about trying anything either. I'm not interested in a travelling romance. If I hear you climbing that ladder in the night I'll stick a pin in you."

"Don't get your pants twisted Claire I'm a perfect gent. I don't pursue where I'm not welcome." He said the words with a glint and Claire was conscious of a warm flush rising up her neck. Ignoring the betrayal of her body Claire dug through her rucksack to retrieve her night-dress and wash bag.

"Nice nighty."

Claire couldn't help but laugh. "You're outrageous. Right, what now?"

"Now we explore."

It didn't take long to discover that the hostel had no hidden delights, apart from a little corridor conservatory along from the lounge which was probably lovely in the summer. The whole place felt in need of a refresh, particularly after some of the places Claire had stayed in already. It was like visiting her Gran's house, before she died. _At least it doesn't smell of boiled cabbage._

"What do people do when they're hostelling?" Claire sat on the edge of her chair and looked with puzzlement at Josh's sprawled form.

"Whatever they want. Read, listen to music, chat, meet new people. If you're lucky someone will start jamming."

"Jamming?"

"You know, playing the guitar, singing."

"Oh god, really? How awful."

It was Josh's turn to look perplexed. "What did you do to relax when you were at home Claire?"

Claire gave the question some thought. "I didn't. I was either at work or out."

"Where did you go out then? You must have had some fun."

"Oh yes." She thought about nights drinking with her friends. And then she remembered Susannah's comments at her leaving party and wondered if they were really friends or just colleagues who bitched about her behind her back. Images of Sunday morning brunches with Michael, and walking in the park to let the wind blow away their hangovers, besieged her brain. They were unwelcome memories and she shoved them away.

"That's different, though," Claire continued. "That's at home with friends and access to a decent wardrobe. What do you do with a sack full of unwashed clothes and no one to party with?"

"You don't need clothes to party."

Claire sniggered, drawing a ready grin from Josh. "I didn't mean it like that but, yes, that's one way to party. What I meant was you don't need to dress up to have fun."

Claire raised an eyebrow at Josh's stained clothes, muddy trainers and unkempt hair. _He wouldn't even be allowed in to Tiger Tiger._

If Josh was aware of Claire's critical scrutiny he didn't show it. Instead he swung his legs down from the arm of the chair and sat forward, making eye contact. "I asked at reception when we checked in, apparently there's a pub next door that does a bonzer steak pie. Come with me, we'll have some nosh and I'll show you how to be social when you're on the road."

Claire looked down at her travel-creased clothing and pulled at her greasy hair. "I could really use a shower and a change of clothes."

"No, you come as you are. Most of the people in there will have been hiking Hadrian's Wall all day. There won't be any glamour, you'll fit right in."

Unsure how to take his last comment, Claire grabbed her purse and followed Josh out the door.

If nothing else it will be content for the blog. We're only going to eat a meal and chat with some people, I used to do that all the time at work. How different can it be?

***

FOUR

"Hey Claire, great singing last night, how's the hangover?"

Claire dropped her head on her hands and groaned, refusing to respond to the man who had stopped on his way past their breakfast table. He chuckled and walked on. Claire was about to raise her head when she heard more footsteps and another voice.

"Alright Josh, Claire, nice guitar playing mate. Good session. You guys off to do the wall today? Weather looks smashing."

The voice receded and the room went quiet. Lifting her head slowly Claire peered out under one arm. "Have they all gone? Is it safe to come out?"

Josh laughed sympathetically. "Yes they're gone, though you have no reason to hide. You were awesome."

Claire moaned softly. "Not you too. What did I do exactly? It all goes hazy after the guy with the guitar and the bottle of whisky arrived."

"You drank quite a lot of the whisky, mostly from the bottle, then you started dancing. Simon played accompaniment and when you kept falling over the furniture you decided to sing instead. You've got a nice voice you know, although the words were a bit slurred."

"And you played guitar? I don't remember that."

Josh shrugged. "Well you were mostly asleep on Steve's shoulder at that point."

"Oh God, who is Steve?" Claire covered her face with her palms and peeked at Josh through splayed fingers.

"The guy who just said g'day to you."

Claire dropped her head again. "Tell me nothing happened."

"Nothing happened," Josh said, a bit too quickly.

Claire looked up. "Now say it like it's true."

"Well I can't swear to that. I was making Lucy's acquaintance."

"Which one was she?"

"The red head with the stray curls."

Claire shook her head. This wasn't going to be blog material. The sooner the night was forgotten the better.

"So are we walking the wall today or are you ticking this box as done and moving on?" Josh's tone was neutral as he finished the last of his breakfast.

Claire considered the opportunity to escape and leave Josh and their jamming session behind. She looked out the window. Blue skies and scudding clouds beckoned her out to blow away the hangover.

"What wall?"

"Hadrian's Wall."

"Yes?"

"Oh come on, I'm not even from this country and I've heard of Hadrian's Wall."

"Who the hell is Hadrian, why's he important?"

"Ah well there you have me. But I read a leaflet that says there's an 8-mile walk from here that goes via a museum. Maybe we can go learn together."

"Why would I want to learn about it from a museum when I can Google it?"

"That's just data. Someone else's view. You can't live life vicariously, you have to stomp in it and get your boots muddy. Think of it as Blog Fodder. No one's going to read your blog if you move on from every place as soon as you arrive."

"I don't care if anyone reads it. The fewer people the better."

"You don't mean that or you wouldn't have had me read it in the car in the dark." Claire flushed but Josh didn't notice. He was waving his spoon around to emphasise the points he was making. "Besides I thought this was your job? Likes and follows are paying your wages. You strike me as a hard-working chick. Put some effort in!"

"What are you, some kind of motivational guru?" Josh turned at her words and gave Claire a strange look, almost a glare. Then he laughed. The sound struck Claire as forced and false.

"That's me, Mr Get-up-and-go. Now get your sweet arse into some hiking gear and meet me at reception before it starts raining." He pushed away from the table and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Claire realised she sounded like a wife and blushed. "Never mind. I'll see you soon. Do we need to take lunch?"

"I'll find out, I just have something to do first." Josh raised his hand in a half-wave and disappeared in the direction of the internet access without looking back.

***

FIVE

The trill of the phone rang loud in the silent lounge. Claire and Josh had the place to themselves, having got back from their walk early in the afternoon. Claire twisted in her seat so she could retrieve her phone from her back pocket, only then becoming aware of the numb patch where it had been digging into her skin.

Claire, sorry to text again. I'm not stalking you I promise. It's just I rang AJC and they said you'd left. I hope that's not because of what happened at New Year. I'm sorry if it was. Forgive me. Michael.

_Left? How dare they? What have they been saying to my clients?_ Claire felt the blood heating in her veins, surging up her neck to her face. She read the message again. _And why did Michael ring work anyway? I don't care what he says, it sounds like stalking to me._

Her mind twisted like tights in a tumble dryer. She wasn't aware that her emotions were anything other than internal until she heard a snigger from Josh. She looked and saw him watching her with a questioning look on his face.

"I've never heard someone actually grind their teeth before. I always thought it was one of those things you read in bad novels when the author can't think of a way to describe irritation better."

Claire unclenched her jaw and forced her muscles to relax. "Just some seeds from my sandwich stuck in my molars that's all." She watched Josh with narrow eyes, waiting to see if he would contradict her. The sandwiches had been on white. He merely gave a wink and went back to reading a tattered paperback, holding it in one hand with pages turned over.

Claire put the phone down and pulled her iPad onto her lap. She opened her blog site dashboard with a sigh. The blank page of the "New Post" dragged at her like a cliff edge. A mind that could generate award-winning one-liners for Press Ads was bereft of words when faced with the challenge of penning something entertaining about her day. The best part had been arriving back at the hostel and wrapping her hands around a mug of tea. She'd even managed to ignore the chips and cracks and the teak-colour of the brew. Eight hours trudging in a 'bracing' wind had erased her fastidiousness for the moment.

Damn you Josh for convincing me to do a second circular walk when we finished the first one in five hours. Yes the Sycamore Tree was pretty but I could have lived without it. Although Cuddy's Crags and East and West Crindledykes are going to make great Tags.

She looked at the two maps of her walks with notes scribbled on, barely legible because of cold, numb fingers. It was vaguely possible she could write something about the two circular routes that hadn't been said before but it was still lacking in _heart_ , whatever that was.

_At least I have the photos of Josh to upload. He's fairly easy on the eye: that should win some likes._ She flicked through the images on her phone, trying to find the ones with most impact. It was a bit different to working with a lightbox in an editing studio. She chose a couple that made her heart beat a bit faster and set them to upload to the Cloud. _I should probably check with him before I publish them to the world. He might be in hiding or something although if he's writing a blog back home they must have some idea where he is._

"Hey Josh, can I put a picture of you on the blog? That one of you up to your knees in the mud would be cool."

There was silence from the sofa in the corner and Claire wondered if Josh had fallen asleep. The book hadn't looked particularly thrilling. She glanced over and was surprised to meet troubled eyes peering around the pages of the upheld book. The expression on Josh's normally carefree face jolted deep in Claire's stomach and she was conscious of a strong urge to offer comfort.

"Er, sure, if you want. Or you could use the one of me on top of the wall."

_The one where the sun is on you and your face isn't visible?_ "Maybe, although I'm sure you're not meant to climb the wall so that's probably not a great idea. Don't worry, I'll find something. I think you took one of me."

She turned her head back to the laptop as if concentrating on her post. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Josh. His face remained focussed in her direction for a few moments before he sank back into his previous pose. Only the constant movement of his twisting feet gave anything away.

***

SIX

Claire looked at the flashing phone, trying to decide whether to ignore it. She and Josh had left for Ninebanks, the next hostel on Claire's list, early that morning and the journey had been swift and painful. Since their brief conversation about photos the night before Josh had done little more than utter monosyllabic sounds like a sullen teenager. They had booked another twin room and Josh hadn't made a single suggestive comment about the double bed that formed the bottom of the bunk. When he pulled on his boots and muttered something about going for a walk Claire waved him off with all the relief of a mother on the first day of term.

The phone continued to flash silently, dragging her eye from the accusing stare of the iPad. She reached over to check who was calling and saw only the word _International_. Her heart plummeted. The only person she knew that went overseas was Michael. _Well he can just sod off. Stalker._ She reached to hit reject but made a sudden decision to connect the call. _If I don't face him sooner or later I'm going to need a restraining order._

"Hello?"

"Claire?" Harsh tones boomed down the phone and into her brain. She ignored the surge of disappointment that it wasn't Michael and took a moment to place the owner of the angry voice. She hadn't heard it for a while.

"Robert? Long-time no speak, brother mine. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"This is not a social call."

Claire tried not to laugh. Her brother sounded like a posh TV detective come to arrest the pretty protagonist. "Then why are you calling? You never call, is your Skype broken?"

"I did not want to risk Francesca overhearing my conversation. It is not for sensitive ears."

Has he taken to perusing Gothic novels? I thought I was the one reading bad literature to pass the time.

Suppressing a sigh Claire settled back as best she could in the uncomfortable chair and gazed at the flickering of the wood-burner. When it became clear Robert was not going to add any more she inhaled through her nose and asked the obvious question.

"What isn't for sensitive ears, Robert? And since when was Francesca sensitive? Judging by some of the stories she told on that hen do you made me go on she could give Frankie Boyle a run for his money."

"I have no idea who Frankie Boy is..."

"...Boyle."

"And I don't appreciate being interrupted, thank you."

"Robert you're my brother, not my father." Claire fought against the teenager she could feel rising within and lost. "Just spit out whatever stupid reason you have for calling and get out of my head, I'm trying to work."

"Ha! Work. Is that what you're calling it? Debauching with strangers, singing and dancing drunk in a bar, hanging upside-down from trees flashing your flesh for the world to see. It is not what I would call work. Nor is it the behaviour I expect from a member of my family. I have a position to uphold and you posting half-naked pictures of yourself across the Web - on _LinkedIn_! - is the outside of enough."

Claire hit mute on the phone halfway through her brother's rant so she could laugh without restraint. Tears streamed down her face. She was hiccupping with mirth when he finished and she was forced to turn the sound back on. In her mind she saw the picture that had got her brother so upset. The one Josh had taken of her the day before on their double hike of Hadrian's Wall. After Josh had climbed the wall and posed for the camera she had found herself needing to go one better. School-girl gymnastics came to her aid and she'd managed to shimmy up the sycamore tree and hang from one of the branches like it was an A-Symmetric bar. Her coat had obeyed the laws of gravity and she recalled a few inches of frozen flesh creeping out into the chill winter's day.

Eventually Claire stopped snorting tears and managed to compose herself enough to respond to her brother. She could imagine his increasing wrath at her laughter but that only whipped the flames hotter.

"Is that why you called? To tell me off like a first year caught skiving class? I had a hard enough time following in your prim and prudish footsteps at school Robert. You are not going to rule my life from Geneva. If my blog offends you don't read it. Who, besides you, is going to know we are related? My name isn't even on the blog."

"Thank goodness for small mercies. What the hell does _Sally's Cat_ mean as an author's name anyway? Mother tells me this is your job now and that you've left AJC. Sounds like a suicidal career move to me."

"I'm amazed Mum got even that much right for all she listened while I was there. I haven't left AJC, they're still paying me my normal salary. Not that it's any business of yours. I am working on an assignment to promote healthy living on behalf of the YHA and Happy Cola. If I'm managing to have a bit of fun while I do it it's more than you've ever managed in your entire Head Boy career."

She heard the rush of air as her brother sucked his breath in through his teeth. Her mouth spread wide in an unholy grin. She loved getting under Robert's skin. It was so easy yet so very satisfying. She waited for him to speak, picturing his face contorting as he tried to respond without swearing.

"If you have nothing else to add Robert I'll say goodbye. My blog isn't going to write itself. I haven't decided yet whether I'm going to go to Gaol or down a Lead Mine to explore the locality. I'll be sure to keep my clothes on either way. It is winter here after all."

Robert muttered a barely-civil farewell and hung up the phone.

Well if I've managed to irritate Robert I must be doing something right.

Claire closed down her blank blog page and brought up "Things to do in Ninebanks". Mentally she reworded it "Things to annoy your eldest sibling" _._

That shouldn't be hard.

***

SEVEN

"Hey Claire, how's it going?"

"Kim, great to hear from you." Claire settled into the corner of the faded sofa, ready for a long chat with her oldest friend.

"How is your _Have Helly Hansens Will Travel_ life going?" Her voice sparkled like sunlight on the sea. "When did you last shave your legs?"

Claire's shout of laughter caused a couple fiercely focused on their Scrabble game to look up momentarily. She smiled apologetically at them and laughed again more quietly. "This morning, actually. Our room is en-suite and Josh left as soon as we checked in to go stomp his teenage-angst out on the hills."

There was a loaded pause before Kim shrieked down the phone. "Oh. My. God. Who is Josh, why are you sharing a room, where are you staying? _Teenage_ angst? Have you shacked up with a younger man? En-suite? Don't tell me you've given up already and checked into a hotel. You've only been gone a week. Tell me, tell me!"

Claire put the phone back to her ear as Kim finished talking and spoke thoughtfully. "Has it really only been a week?" She tried to count back to her arrival in Berwick but realised she wasn't completely sure what day of the week it was. "Is it Friday today?"

"No, it's Saturday, and you're evading the question."

"Which one?" Claire chuckled.

"All of them."

Claire paused, letting her friend stew in her conjecture a little while longer before letting out a giggle. "Your ability to jump to the furthest conclusion is astounding. I'm staying at Ninebanks, a lovely hostel somewhere between Newcastle and Carlisle. Josh is an Aussie guy I met in the Kielder youth hostel who is travelling along with me for a while because I have a car. He is probably my age but is currently acting like he's twelve. It appears most YHA hostel rooms are en-suite and has it really only been a week? It feels like a month."

"Phew, thanks for the update. You had me worried. So, are you enjoying it then? You sound very relaxed, more than I've heard you sound for a long time."

Claire was surprised at Kim's observation. _I don't feel very relaxed. My boss is trying to hound me out, I'm sharing bunk-beds with a bloke I met two days ago and Michael keeps dangling himself tantalisingly in reach like a chilled bottle of bubbly._

She looked around the small hostel lounge, taking in the couple near the wood-burner still grappling with unknown seven-letter words. The only people who knew where she was were Josh and now Kim. It was, she decided, quite a nice feeling.

"I guess I am pretty chilled. The hardest part is deciding what to do every day. I try to have a plan but I keep getting scuppered by events outside my control. Some of the hostels aren't open in the winter and now it turns out the lead mine isn't either."

"Lead mine? Seriously? Surely a diamond mine is more your style?"

"Last time I checked there weren't too many diamond mines in Northumberland. I am working you know Kim. I need Blog Fodder every day. There are only so many things you can say about the floral duvet covers and the colour of the en-suite tiles. I'll be damned if I'm going to shadow Josh in his current mood. Besides, I'm tired of hiking."

"You've been hiking? Your idea of exercise is lifting a G&T to your lips and then working off the calories in an insane spinning class."

"I love you too Kim." For some reason the words, despite their truth, made Claire feel low.

"Sorry hun I wasn't trying to be mean. I thought you prided yourself on your indoors lifestyle?"

Claire shuffled in her seat and pondered why Kim's words made her defensive. _Who am I trying to fool? Of course she's right, I don't fit in this world. I don't_ want _to fit in this world._

"Ignore me. My old life feels a long way away." She described what she could see to her friend, trying to share some of the atmosphere of the hostel.

"It sounds great. Maybe Jeff and I should come and meet you at one of your stops. It's about the only holiday we'll be able to afford anytime soon."

Claire paused as she tried to imagine Kim and Jeff in her new environment. It felt odd considering the merging of worlds, although not as strange as the idea of one of her work colleagues appearing amid all the faded furniture.

_Lucky none of them would be seen dead here_.

"Sure, why not. There aren't many hostels near Cambridge but when I'm a bit further south we can see when you're free. Anyway, tell me about Puck. How's it all going?"

Claire settled deeper into the sofa and listened to Kim's tales of her life treading the boards. She realised it was the first time in ages they had gossiped on the phone. Usually she was too busy working or socialising or sleeping to catch up with friends. Chuckling at Kim's anecdotes Claire rested her head on a cushion and thought maybe she could get used to her new life.

***

EIGHT

"Get me down!"

Josh grinned up at Claire from the gorge below and cupped his hands to his mouth. "That's the general idea. Just do what the man tells you, you'll be fine."

His words were barely audible over the sound of rushing water and the thudding of Claire's heart beneath the harness.

"Okay Claire, there is nothing to be scared of. You've seen the others do it and they've all been fine, haven't they?"

Claire dragged her eyes away from the yawning space beneath her and looked at the owner of the voice. He seemed to expect something from her so she nodded, not trusting herself to speak without swearing or sobbing.

"So, what we're going to do is talk you through it one step at a time. You trust me, don't you Claire?"

His voice was safe, like a kind GP or a favourite Uncle. His rich Cumbrian accent washed over her and she found she could breathe again. Then her eyes were pulled to the drop beneath her feet and her lungs once more emptied of air.

"This is no different to the drop you did at the training centre. You just need to turn around and lower yourself backwards. You don't even need to look down."

"I don't need to look," Claire bit out through clenched teeth. "I can hear the sound of the damn waterfall smashing on the rocks fifty feet below me."

Part of Claire's brain wondered at what point Dave's patience would snap and he would either push her over the edge or give in to her demands to be freed from the harness. The pep talk before they left the centre to walk down had informed them all that even those terrified of heights would be _encouraged to descend the 17m drop into the gorge_ and that _the thrill of abseiling down the side of one of The North Pennines' highest waterfalls always encourages cheers and applause_. Claire glanced down at the group of faces peering up at her from below.

I don't want a sodding clap I want a drink.

She picked out Josh's face from the crowd. _He is not going to let me hear the end of it if I chicken out now. It's his fault I'm here in the first place. Him and sodding Carl._

Claire let her mind drift back to the email she had received from Carl that morning, just after check-in at Alston YHA.

Claire, we feel your blog needs to be spiced up a bit. Happy Cola are concerned that you are not promoting the outdoors enough. Hiking and biking is all well and good but they want to see more adrenalin. Try for some rock climbing, abseiling, maybe a sky dive. Make sure you post pictures. Carl.

The swearing had gone on for some time but when she had shown Josh the cause of her expletives, he'd merely laughed and said "Good on him."

She wondered now whether Carl and Josh were in secret collusion to maximise her humiliation.

"If you set Carl up to this Josh you can kiss goodbye to your free ride." Claire's words were lost in the spray from the falls. She turned back to face Dave and caught him exchanging grimaces with a colleague. He quickly smoothed his face back into a mask of patient concern but it was too late.

Roll your eyes at me will you, you silly old man? We'll see about that.

Claire took a short step to the edge of the gorge, threw a glance at Dave's mate to make sure he was gripping the rope, and tipped herself backwards. Her feet skidded on the slippery wall and all plans of walking slowly down the gorge vanished. Her stomach shot up to her chin as she fell down the cliff-face until she felt the harness catch under her bottom. The motion caused her to spin and her vision filled with alternate views of white water and dark gorge. Freezing spray drenched her and the roar of the rushing water rang through her head.

The world stumbled to a halt as Claire hung suspended from the bright yellow rope, the only primary colour in a field of muted greens and greys. The few seconds it took to lower her to the ground dragged by but eventually Claire felt her boots touch rock. Traitorous knees failed to support her and she landed in an ungainly heap on the wet stone as the rest of her group whooped and clapped.

"Good on yer, Claire." Josh rapped his knuckles on Claire's helmet and beamed at her.

She glared up at him for a moment before reaching up her hand. "The least you can do is help me up, you bastard."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea. You said you needed high-adrenalin stuff for Blog Fodder. Well, how's your heart rate? Is she pounding?" He pulled Claire to her feet and leaned in close. "Nice arse by the way. Great view."

Claire felt the blood heating her frozen cheeks. She considered pushing him into the water but decided she'd save her vengeance for later.

"I hope you got a picture of something other than my rear, I'm not putting that on the blog."

"Aw, go on, that'll get the punters coming for sure." He winked. "No pun intended."

It was only once she had trudged all the way back to the centre and handed in her gear that Claire realised what he had said.

"I'll get you, Josh. Just you wait."

***

NINE

"Josh?" Claire looked over at the thatch of messy blonde hair; all she could see of her travelling companion as he lounged on the sofa with a paperback raised over his head. She wanted to grill him about his blog. She had tried several times already but each time he seemed to escape the question. _Hopefully I've got him pinned now._

Josh twisted round to face her, his eyes veiled, almost wary, as if he knew what she wanted to ask.

"Er, can you remember the name of the guy holding the rope this morning?"

Josh's frown relaxed into a wicked smile that set fire to the amber flecks in his brown eyes. "What, you mean the one who pissed his pants when you threw yourself off a fifty foot cliff without checking he was ready?"

"I checked he was holding the rope. It's not my fault he was looking the other way and burned his hands. He should have been paying attention."

"You'd been hovering at the edge like a scaredy cat for nearly twenty minutes; you can't blame the guy for getting bored."

Claire flushed at the memory. _Who knew I was scared of heights?_ It had never been an issue before. The highest things in her life prior to starting this assignment were her six inch steel stilettos.

"The name?" Her voice rang with dire consequences if Josh pursued the current conversation. She had heard every joke he knew about being a wimp.

Josh grinned. "Bill. His name was Bill. Poor burnt Bill."

Claire raised an eyebrow and Josh retreated behind his book, his chuckles drifting across the room like cigarette smoke.

_Why does he keep evading enquiries about his blog?_ Claire stared first at the dirty blonde hair then at her iPad screen. _He was the one who told me he wrote a blog. What's the big secret?_ She tried to recall exactly what Josh had said. _Something about keeping in touch with the folks back home._

She opened her search engine and typed in "Aussie down under," before realising that was going to return a million results. She typed a few other phrases but they were equally generic and useless. She had no idea how to find out what Josh's blog was. Or why it was important to her to do so. _I guess when you share a room with someone, even if it's just because it's more convenient, you want to know something about them._ As the words walked through her head Claire realised she didn't even know Josh's surname or the part of Australia he was from. _It's as if he doesn't want anyone to be able to trace him. Yet if he's really in hiding why is he travelling with me? Surely there are easier ways of getting around and staying invisible._

Claire shook away the thoughts and returned to the tricky task of writing her account of the morning's abseiling escapade without portraying herself as a complete idiot. The words refused to come, even with the pictures Josh had taken. Ignoring the dozen shots of her bottom framed by the harness she managed to find one or two that stood out. A nice profile shot of her gazing back up the waterfall, one that seemed to say _I did that_. Another of her with the whole group, everyone beaming. _He certainly captured the essence of the moment. I'm impressed._ And still Claire couldn't dislodge the voice of curiosity that kept prompting that unwanted question.

What does Josh blog about. And, more importantly, what is he hiding?

***

TEN

"What do you mean it's closed?"

"I'm sorry," the man on reception explained, "some of our hostels are only open at certain times of the year. University vacations, that kind of thing. Durham and Carlisle are both halls of residence, so they're only available in the summer."

"Bloody students. I want to go to a city. I want a Starbucks, I want to feel pavement beneath my feet instead of dirt." Claire swallowed the lump in her throat and wondered if she was due.

The man smiled as he would to a toddler demanding chocolate. "Why don't you try Cockermouth? The hostel is only ten minutes' walk from town."

"Do they have a Starbucks?" Claire could hear the petulance in her voice and hated herself for it.

"Excuse me?" Claire heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see a girl in a red anorak smiling at her from behind designer specs. "There are Starbucks at Penrith Center Parcs which is on the way to Cockermouth from here. Or you could go via Carlisle, it's not that far out of your way. Spend the day in the city before heading out to the hostel later?"

Claire beamed at this girl who seemed to be speaking a language she could grasp. "Thank you so much. Do you work here?" _She doesn't sound like a local. I can understand what she's saying for a start._

"No I'm one of the bloody students at Carlisle Uni, sleeping in the Hall of Residence that doubles as a hostel in the summer. Sorry."

Her unapologetic grin brought a flush of blood to Claire's cheeks. She opened her mouth to apologise but the girl was still talking.

"My mates and I came for the weekend to go hiking and we're just heading back to the city now. We have lectures this afternoon."

It seemed she might continue her monologue but a voice called out from deeper in the hostel.

"That's my boyfriend. I have to go. I hope you find Starbucks. It's in the pedestrian bit in the town centre if you do go to Carlisle. It's not a big one, but a skinny latte is a skinny latte right?"

Claire watched the girl hurry out in response to a second, more urgent, summons. _Funny how coffee can give a common cause to the most unlikely of meetings._ She tried to remember if she had been that forward or sassy as a student. It seemed so long ago now, even though it was less than a decade. _I was probably worse._

"So, do you want me to book you a dorm at Cockermouth Miss?"

The broad accent of the receptionist cut through Claire's thoughts. "I just need to check whether Josh wants to come."

Who knows what Josh wants? It's as if he's done one of those teenager-adult swaps, like in the movie with Tom Hanks.

Claire tracked Josh down in the garden where he looked like he was practising slow rave dancing. Claire guessed it was probably taekwondo or t'ai chi or one of those classes she'd seen girls doing at the gym when she went in for spinning. It made her numb with boredom just watching it, although as Josh had stripped to the waist, despite the freezing temperature outside, its appeal was increasing.

She stood waiting for him to finish, watching the muscles shifting under his smooth tanned skin. She became aware of an urge to walk over and run her hands across his back, to plant a kiss where his shoulder met his neck. When it looked like he wasn't going to stop anytime soon, Claire gave a little cough.

Josh completed the move he was doing before bringing his hands to his sides and turning round.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I'm about ready to move on." Claire tried to keep her gaze on his face rather than following the line of hair that ran down his chest and into his trousers.

"Where to?" Josh responded without meeting Claire's eyes.

"Um, Cockermouth I think. Carlisle is only open in the summer holidays and the rest round here are all bunkhouses."

Josh smiled at that and his face lost some of the new sternness. "You're going to have to face a bunkhouse eventually you know. They're not much different to hostels, just a bit more remote."

"In the summer maybe. I'm beginning to think they started me up here just to wind me up. Half the hostels are closed and the rest are in the arse-end of nowhere."

"Well you said the entire point of the mission was to make you quit your job. What better way than to chuck you in it?" Josh leaned over and retrieved his jumper from the floor. His voice was muffled as he pulled it over his head. "Why don't you head to London or somewhere, do some city hostels until the spring at least?"

Claire thought about getting lost in London. Could she cope with staying there and not frequenting her usual luxury hotels? At least there were shops and Starbucks. "That's not a bad idea you know. The assignment said it was up to me what order I did the hostels in. I could be in London in a few hours." She looked at her watch and was surprised to see it was mid-morning already. Her muscles were still sore from the abseil and what she wanted, more than anything else, was a skinny latte.

"No, sod it, let's stick to the plan for today. I'm going to Cockermouth. Are you with me or staying here?"

"Will you go to London tomorrow do you think?"

Claire tried to read the expression on Josh's face. "Is that why you suggested it? Do you need to be further south?"

"I need to work and it'll be easier in suburbia." Something in his tone suggested to Claire that she wasn't getting the full story. _Nothing new there then._

"Then, yes, I will be heading south. I might go to Bristol rather than London. Maybe even Liverpool."

"Okay, count me in."

Claire wondered whether her decision to try Liverpool rather than London had anything to do with choosing not to spend six hours in her tiny car next to the temptation of Josh's smooth skin.

***

ELEVEN

Claire settled into the squeaky seat and wrapped her hands around the solid white cup. Her smile spread wide as she raised the drink to her lips and sipped at the froth, glad Josh wasn't there to see her milk moustache. She felt the air exhale from her lungs in a contented sigh. It wasn't the biggest Starbucks or the most up to date. But the coffee always tasted the same. The caffeine zinged through her body, carried to the furthest tips of her fingers by her grateful blood.

She glanced up through the window for the eighth time. _Stop looking. It's no concern of yours where he's gone._ Another voice in her mind said _no concern but still intriguing. We'd barely parked when he said See ya later and legged it._

Claire took another long slurp of her latte, letting the sensation of civilisation wash through her, warming her right to the centre. With a sigh she placed the cup back on the table and took out her Lonely Planet guide. _If I'm only going to be in the Lakes for a day or so I'd better find something noteworthy to do. I don't want Carl making me come straight back. I intend to spend at least a week in the next city we come to, even if it is Liverpool._

She flicked idly through the pages around Keswick and came across a picture of a snowy ridge of mountains with the title Skiddaw. _That looks the ticket. A picture of me up there should shut Carl up for a while. I wonder if I can climb up for a photograph without having to walk along it. It's not far from the hostel, maybe it's not a bad thing that Cockermouth wasn't available._

There was a tap on the window and Claire looked up automatically. A gentleman in shirt and tie was peering through the glass searching the interior of the coffee shop. As his gaze locked with Claire's the clean-shaven face broke into a smile. Claire automatically smiled back although she had no idea who the man was. _He does look familiar. God I hope it's not another client._ She hadn't bumped into anyone she knew since the services on the way to Berwick and definitely wanted to keep it that way.

As if in response to her smile the man raised his hand in a wave and headed for the door to the café. _Bugger, he's coming in._ She plastered her best client-facing expression on her face and sat up straighter in her chair, sliding the Lonely Planet guide off the table into her lap.

"Hey Claire, still here? How many coffees have you had? Am I going to have to tie your arse to the seat so you can drive us to the hostel?"

The words, as much as the Aussie twang, confirmed to Claire what her eyes could not credit.

"Josh?"

"Of course it's me, dingbat." He slid into the seat opposite, a faint blush of colour peeping through his brown cheeks. His eyes slid away from hers and he made a show of looking round the room as if taking in the scene.

"So this is what we drove all the way here for? It's nothing special."

"It's not the décor it's the drink." She wrapped her hands protectively around the coffee mug and drank the tepid dregs.

"Now I've heard that said about a bar but never about a coffee shop. You're one strange girl."

"I'm strange?" Claire's voice rose in indignation. "I haven't suddenly reappeared with a spanking haircut, shave, and shirt and tie still with the shop-bought creases in. What gives?" The words were out before she could stop them, despite vowing to herself that she wouldn't question him. Sure enough a veil dropped across Josh's face and his eyes lost their sharp focus.

"I had to Skype the folks. Mum likes me to look smart." They both looked down at his hands where they twisted like coiled snakes on the table-top. "Anyway are you going to buy me one of these famous coffees or shall we head back to civilisation? Cities cramp my soul."

As the words settled softly in Claire's mind like fresh snow she was aware of a sense of loss. Whose loss she couldn't say, or even why she had the feeling. It seemed like Josh was floating away on an iceberg in a choppy sea. She shook off the strange sensation and gave him her widest smile.

"Sure, let's head to Keswick. I'm thinking of hiking Skiddaw tomorrow."

The effect was instant, like changing the batteries in a run-down appliance. Josh sat up, his face beaming. The air of ancient injury dropped away and he became young again.

"Sweet."

***

TWELVE

"How are the boots?"

"Better than the Helly Hansens although it pains me to admit it. It's nice not to be wearing jeans too. I'm glad I stopped by _Cotswolds_ before we left Carlisle."

"Well done."

Claire beamed at Josh as if she had passed a test by getting the right gear. Even though he hadn't been on the Pennine Walk he had read the blog post and seen the pictures.

"I can't imagine how you didn't get frost bite or at least torn muscles hiking in the snow in jeans. Idiot."

"Thanks." Claire paused to catch her breath. "Let's say I'm learning on the job." She turned to take in the view of Derwentwater nestled below amidst hills and woodland. Even on a bitter winter day it was quite a sight. "It must be impressive in the summer with a blue sky and a bit more green."

Josh turned and walked back to where she stood. He reached over and held his hand to her forehead. "Are you ill?"

"No I feel great, why?"

"You're being complimentary about the scenery and the nearest city is miles away. Are you sure you're not crook?"

"Ha bloody ha. I was brought up in the countryside. Just because I don't choose to live there doesn't mean I don't occasionally think it's pretty. I think Cath Kidston tea-towels are pretty but I wouldn't give them houseroom."

Josh smiled and gestured up the zig-zagging track. "Come on, there isn't much daylight this far north at this time of year. If you want your precious picture for Carl we need to get to the summit before it gets dark."

"Lead on, McDuff."

"What?" Josh twisted round as he walked.

"Oh, nothing. It's from Shakespeare. I think. Uncle Jim used to say it when we were younger. He probably had it wrong, he was always misquoting things."

"You've never mentioned any of your family before."

It was on Claire's lips to say _You haven't either,_ but she didn't want the smile to leave Josh's face. Instead she forced out a low chuckle. "With my family there isn't much to say. Uncle Jim was easily the best of them."

"Was?"

"He died. Heart attack. Crazy really. Dad's always been the one with the high-profile job, bad diet, too much wine. Uncle Jim loved sailing, spent half his life in the great outdoors. Much good it did him."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I guess we all gotta go at some point."

Silence fell between them and they followed the line of cairns that lead to Skiddaw.

"Brrrr." Claire pulled her jacket in tighter and huddled against the wind as they reached the ridge. She looked around her in surprise, wondering when the sky had filled with ominous-looking clouds.

"Bugger, looks like it's going to rain."

"And some, I should think. Best pick up the pace. Right gear or not, it won't be pleasant up on the ridge in a hail storm."

The words were whisked from Josh's mouth as a gust of wind tore through them. Claire stumbled and reached out instinctively for Josh's arm.

"Sorry, caught me by surprise."

"No worries. Come on, let's do this, now we're here." He linked his arm through Claire's and they strode on towards the top of Skiddaw, determined not to be beaten by the weather.

"Ow." A lump of ice hit Claire on the shoulder, followed swiftly by another. "Damn, that hurt."

"Sook. It was just a bit of hail. Here, pass me your phone, let's get this photo taken while you'll still be distinguishable in it."

Claire plastered her best approximation of a smile on her face as Josh pointed the iPhone in her direction. She snatched the phone as soon as he indicated the picture was taken and turned back the way they had come.

"Aren't you going to come to the top? We're so close."

"What for? I did what I came to do. I want a hot shower and a mug of Earl Grey."

"Come on. You can't chicken out now. Come _bag a munro_ or whatever the English equivalent is."

"Bag a what?" Claire glared at Josh and then looked back down the path. Even though it was clearly marked she wasn't happy hiking solo. With a heavy sigh that was swept away before it could reach Josh she turned and followed him up the hill.

"Whose stupid idea was this?"

"Yours."

"Bugger, it was, you're right. Well, that's it. The next extreme sport I'm doing is extreme cocktail drinking followed by extreme shopping."

"Well on that adventure you're on your own. I told you, cities give me soul-ache." Josh's shouted words were said without emphasis but Claire could hear the goodbye in them. The thought caused a stab of pain under her ribs. Having been fine to start the adventure on her own it now seemed impossibly hard to travel on without someone beside her.

"Where will you go?"

They had reached the top and peered through the sleet to try and see Bassenthwaite. Claire thought she could just about distinguish the lake in the distance although everything was blending into matching hues of grey so it was hard to be sure.

"I'll stay in Keswick. Seems a bonzer place. Might try for some work."

"I thought you wanted to head south. The city was your idea."

"I did what I needed to do yesterday in Carlisle, she's sweet."

There didn't seem to be any more words so they turned and walked together back down the hill.

***

THIRTEEN

Claire let the heat of the shower wash away niggling doubt, concentrating on the sensation caused by warm water caressing her tired muscles.

_I'd give my limited edition Radley bag for a bath. Or one of the smaller purses anyway._ She lathered her hair, grateful for the knowledge that Josh couldn't have left anything scary and hairy in the cubicle. It had been luxurious checking in without him, closing the bedroom door and knowing she was completely alone.

_I wonder what he's doing, whether he's found a new chick to hit on, to sweet-talk into a lift_. She flushed when she remembered the night they had first met. It was only a week ago but it felt like months. Thinking about it she realised he hadn't repeated his attempt to kiss her after he had taken her by surprise at the Observatory. _Maybe he didn't fancy me once he got to know me better_. It was a lowering thought.

Claire rinsed the shampoo from her hair and detangled it with copious amounts of conditioner, combing it through with her fingers. She resisted the urge to hum 'I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair' with the thought that she couldn't say for certain which one.

Clean, refreshed, and wrapped in a towel, Claire stood gazing out her window at the panoramic view just visible by the meagre light of the petrol-blue sky. The storm clouds that had battered them with hail on Skiddaw had long since blown away.

_What am I doing here? I could be looking out over city lights, contemplating a three-course meal in a decent restaurant and breakfast at Starbucks. Instead I'm still in the Lakes. Windermere of all places. How touristy can you get? Although we're not exactly_ in _Windermere._ Gazing at the view Claire was surprised at how few lights she could see. _Why are all the YHA hostels so damn remote?_

Her mind replayed the meandering drive up from town and she was glad, not for the first time, that she wasn't trying to backpack without a car. _Stella might be a heap of junk but she gives untold freedom. No wonder Josh stuck with me whether he fancied me or not._

She felt a stab of guilt, thinking about Josh. When she had left him after the Skiddaw hike that afternoon it was on the understanding that she was heading for a more high-rise than hill-side location. Certainly that had been her intention.

A wave of lassitude had engulfed her only twenty minutes into her three-hour drive to Liverpool. She'd seen the signs for Windermere and began following them almost without volition. _Lucky they had a free room, especially a private one. I think I need some space to think._

She pulled on her most comfortable clothes and curled up on the double-bed bottom bunk, resisting the temptation to lie spread-eagled across it just because she could. Her mind flashed an image of the hostel lounge; the welcoming sofas, the view. The licensed bar. Her tummy growled and she realised she would have to venture downstairs eventually. And still something held her back.

Claire rapped her knuckles against her temples and tutted, the sound loud in the silent room. _What's going on in there, brain? Since when was the lure of Starbucks not enough?_

***

FOURTEEN

"Your turn Claire."

The bridge stretched ahead of her like something out of an Indiana Jones movie. She glanced down, half expecting to see a rushing torrent fifty feet below. Instead there was just a car park at a distance of less than fifteen feet. She searched for her Skoda in the distance then looked back down at the ground. It was a mistake. The bile rose in her throat before sinking down to churn up her stomach. She dragged her eyes back to the structure in front of her.

_Dammit I knew this was a stupid idea._ The bridge hadn't appeared that wide when she'd driven underneath it. Now it might as well span the Niagara Falls. Tentatively Claire put one foot on the first of the planks and the whole structure shook as if a force seven earthquake had just hit Windermere. Claire quickly pulled her leg back and retreated inside the tower. She could feel several pairs of eyes on her, willing her on. Behind her a lad sniggered.

Claire inhaled, put one foot on the plank, then another. Willing herself on she gripped the ropes until they tore at her hands and forced herself to cross the bridge. Her heart swooped like a released bird as she reached the tree trunk and wrapped her arms around it.

_I did it. I crossed it._ She pirouetted round the tree-trunk, surveying the rest of the course.

The next challenge was another bridge. _Okay, I can do that now._ Except this one didn't have any ropes to hold onto. _You have to be kidding. What? I'm meant to walk across it just balancing? I'm not a circus freak._ Claire wished she could have watched the person in front do it, but they were already out of sight further down the course. Claire wrapped her hands around her rope harness and pulled, making sure it would hold. Then she closed her eyes and put her foot on the structure. It tipped sideways, throwing her stomach to the ground.

"Bollocks." The word slipped out and Claire looked round to make sure the person coming up behind her hadn't heard. She saw a petit figure bouncing across the bridge and was faced with the prospect of sharing a small platform with a bouncy child or running across a few pieces of wood stretched between two ropes. As the sound of giggling came nearer Claire swallowed, urging her legs to move. It was no good. Her feet were glued to the platform. No matter how many curses she yelled inside the cavern of her mind her feet refused to move.

Eventually a voice permeated the greyness.

"Hey, lady?"

Claire turned to locate the source and her gaze met a pair of clear blue eyes peering up at her from beneath a giant helmet. It looked like a cheeky beetle. The child was younger than Sky. _Who lets a five-year-old up here?_ Claire grimaced at the girl, not trusting herself to speak.

"It's your turn lady. It's okay. I did this twice already, it's easy peasy. Besides, you can't fall." She leaned sideways until the rope at her waist went tight then took her feet off the platform.

"Don't do that!" Claire's voice was probably only audible to dogs. The girl laughed and swung herself back onto the platform. She grinned at Claire, then raised an eyebrow as if to say _Go on!_

Claire looked at the grinning eyes and felt her cheeks redden. _I will not be shown up by a child._ She turned, inhaled, and ran. Her body slammed into the next tree trunk and she felt the bark graze her cheek. As her heart rate slowed to a mere gallop Claire turned to watch the child hoping gracefully across the rope structure. It made her feel ancient.

She conquered a free step to a small plank, then contemplated a snarl of ropes that linked her tree to the next.

I'm not a spider or a rat. How does this work?

Reaching out, Claire took hold of the rope, hoping she didn't get tangled or, worse still, break a nail. _I'm glad Josh isn't here. I can just imagine the grief he would be giving me right now. That's if he wasn't standing underneath passing comment on my derriere._

The next crossing looked like a stretched-out clothes dryer, the kind her gran used to put ginormous grey knickers on in the utility room. It felt as stable as a deckchair when she put her weight on it.

Slowly, carefully, Claire crept round the course, all the while trying to stay ahead of the girl, as much to avoid the patronising encouragement as the excessive bouncing.

At last she reached the end of the course, only then realising she was on a different tree to the one connected to the Indiana Jones bridge.

How do I get down?

Claire stood on the platform and looked over at the tower where she started. Then she noticed a small sign next to her. _Zip wire? Oh no. How did I miss that?_

"Go on lady, just step off. It isn't scary." Claire turned to see the beetle girl standing next to her on the platform. "I wish I could do the big zip wire but I'm too little."

The girl gestured at the top of the tower ahead of them. Two stories above where they had started three people were standing on a deck. Claire watched them step off and slide gracefully away into the distance. _That doesn't look so bad. Oh, come on Claire, this is the only thing between you and a cup of tea._ Swallowing down the sick taste in her mouth, Claire set her sight on the tower and stepped off the platform. She dropped before the rope took hold and sweat pricked at her forehead.

And then it was over.

"Well done Claire. So are you up for the triple-zip?" Claire stared at the earnest face in front of her and laughed so hard her ribs hurt.

"Sorry," she said eventually, wiping water from her eyes. "Maybe one day. If you'd told me last week I'd be swinging around fifteen feet off the ground I would have said you were nuts."

A whisper at the back of Claire's mind said _Climb the stairs. You know you want to. Get the ultimate shot for the blog. Make Josh proud._ Claire looked at the corner where the steps led to the next floor. She took one step, then two. Then she shrugged out of the harness and headed back to terra firma.

***

FIFTEEN

Claire chose a table in the corner of the coffee shop and sat down. The latte didn't look up to Starbucks' standard but the mug was warm and she'd tipped in sufficient sugar to mask any unwanted taste. Looking around the crowded room she felt the warmth spreading through her hands and down into her body. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes.

The phone rang for several seconds before she recognised the sound as hers. It rang so rarely she'd forgotten the brassy ringtone selected to be audible in bars. _I should probably change it to birdsong or something._ As she patted her coat pockets to find the source of the noise Claire noticed several blue-rinse grannies doing the same thing and let out a chuckle. _Welcome to the twenty-first century._

"Hello?" Claire hoped it was a sales call she could ditch quickly. She hated trying to hold a personal conversation in a public space.

"Claire, it's Ruth. Where are you? Robert said something about you losing your job and ruralising. I told him he'd finally gone senile."

"I'm in a coffee shop Ruth. Can I call you back?" She heard an intake of breath down the phone and felt her happy mood drain away. "I'm not fobbing you off. It's just hard to talk. I'm all pressed in with people." She nearly said _the blue-rinse brigade_ but realised her southern vowels were carrying rather too well above the northern hubbub. She drained the last of her coffee and pulled at her coat, all the while keeping the phone to her ear.

"Hang on Ruth, I'll go outside. Do you want me to call you back, save your bill?"

Her sister agreed and Claire was able to put her coat on with two hands. She hesitated then pulled on her gloves and hat too. The Skoda was parked at the other end of town and she had no idea how long her sister would talk for. Even though the sun was shining it was still sub-zero by the lake.

The phone connected after one ring. "Thanks for calling back. I needed to talk to you. I already called Mum and Robert."

Claire felt a heavy weight drop into her stomach. Ruth rang Robert; that could only mean major news. _Hang on, she rang him before me?_ Shaking away the irrelevant thought Claire looked around for somewhere to sit down.

"What is it?"

"I got the test results back. They've seen something and they want to investigate further."

"What do you mean something?" Claire took a sharp breath of icy air and began coughing. As the fit passed she processes the words. "Do you mean a lump? A tumour? Cancer?" Framing words around the thought made them too real.

"They don't know. A lump, yes, but it could be benign. They won't know until they do a biopsy."

Claire had majored in arts at school, science was not her forte, but she had a feeling biopsies meant inserting needles where they didn't belong. Ruth confirmed it.

"They said it will be done under anaesthetic so I won't feel it."

A shiver tore through Claire, chilling her from the inside out.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Oh god." The sunny street dimmed as the words took on sense. "Do you need anything? I'm in Cumbria but I can head down if you need me to take Sky."

"It's fine, Sky will be at school and Mum will pick her up. It's not a complicated procedure. I just thought you should know."

"Of course. I've been meaning to call and ask about your results. It's just. Well." What excuse was there? _I've been swinging through the trees like Tarzan or following an Aussie I only just met up mountains I've only just heard of?_ Even by their family standards that was pretty lame.

"It's okay, you don't need to explain. It must be difficult, with your job and Michael." Ruth trailed off, waiting. When Claire didn't add anything she gave a small sigh. "You can tell us what happened you know. We won't judge."

_Ha! Not judge? It's practically the family motto._ Claire forced the thought away. "Sorry sis, there have been a lot of changes. I'm not being coy about Michael, there's nothing to say. He wanted something I couldn't give him so it needed to end now before it imploded later. And I haven't lost my job but I am fighting to keep it, using a skill-set I didn't possess last week. But none of that matters if you need me in Cambridge."

There was silence. Claire wondered if Ruth was even still listening or whether she'd gone to see to Sky. She waited, unsure what to do. Her bum was freezing to the bench and she'd lost the feeling in her nose. _Do I hang up and call back?_ Then she heard an rush of breath and what sounded like sobbing. _Must be Sky._

It took a moment to realise the crying was coming from her sister. "Ruth? Are you okay?"

The sobbing intensified and Claire listened helplessly, feeling awkward at witnessing her sister's grief. She got up and walked along the street to get her blood moving. Eventually the sobs gulped to a halt and her sister's voice wavered in apology.

"Don't be silly. You cry if you need to. I can't imagine how scary it all is."

"It's not that. Well, I am terrified. More about how it's going to affect Sky. No, it's just you had everything. The flat, the job, the fit bloke. If it didn't work for you, who does it work for? What is there to live for? Where's the hope?"

Claire's heart pounded loudly, thrumming in her wind-frozen ears. A lump formed in her throat and she grasped for words. "You have Sky. She's your hope, surely?" As she said the words Claire felt the falseness. She couldn't imagine living her future for a child who would be ever ungrateful. At the same time it rang true and she knew it was the right thing to give Ruth hope.

"You're right. I'm being silly. It's just, you and Michael, you clicked. He adored you. We all hoped he'd be the one."

_We?_ Claire didn't like the idea that her family had been discussing her love life in her absence. If she thought they talked about her at all she hoped it was to envy her new car or latest work achievement. _Did Michael adore me?_ Images flashed through her brain like a movie on fast forward. They were good pictures, full of laughter and understanding. It made her ache with emptiness.

She heard a loud noise coming from Ruth's end of the phone and for once was relieved to have their conversation cut short by her niece.

"You give Sky a hug from me, Ruth, and let me know how it goes tomorrow. I can be in Cambridge if you need me. Just call."

Her sister murmured her assent and hung up, leaving Claire motionless and alone on an unfamiliar high street.

***

SIXTEEN

Claire gazed out over the water and let her thoughts drift away with the wake flowing behind the launch. She had intended to leave Bowness after her coffee but her sister's phone call had driven all rational thought from her mind.

Besides, they have a Costa and I didn't see it before I had that awful latte in the other place. I'm not leaving town until I've had a decent coffee.

Claire smiled at the irrelevancy. _Coffee has never featured so heavily in my life as it has on this ridiculous journey_. It seemed to represent some notion of urban civilisation that was essential to her being. The boat trip was a way to kill an hour or two before she could have more caffeine.

Turning her face into the wind Claire let the icy breeze drive out more important thoughts. She hoped the lap of the water would drown out the words echoing around her head but it only muted them and muddled them together.

" _If it didn't work for you, who does it work for?" ... "You and Michael, you clicked. He adored you." ... "Where's the hope? Where's the hope? Where's the hope?"_

Was her sister right? Had she pushed away a man who adored her? Was a life without him a life without hope? Did her sister really envy her existence that much?

Wasn't that what I wanted her to do?

The words, sharp and metallic, tore through the peace of the lake. Claire no longer saw muted shades of green and brown, glints of faint sunlight on the water, space and calm and beauty. No longer heard the lonely cry of the birds or the splash of the lake against the boat's hull. Instead she saw the tones and hues of her pristine apartment. The sharp angles of her office. Heard the click-clack of her heels and the tip-tap of her keyboard. Her perfect world. What was there not to covet?

Claire inhaled, filling her lungs with unpolluted air. Her brain felt foggy and full, like a hangover of the worst proportions. Wrenching her gaze away from a view that only seemed to drag her into a well of introspection, Claire looked around the boat at the other passengers. She had assumed it would be empty at this time of year but the seats were crammed with huddling people, snuggling together against the icy wind. A quick survey confirmed something Claire didn't want to acknowledge.

The people came in two by two, hurrah hurrah.

With a sigh Claire turned her face back to the Lake and waited for the boat trip to end.

***

SEVENTEEN

Claire walked up to the building and felt the dark mood of the day soar away with the retreating birds. The structure in front of her reared magnificently, every inch a five-star hotel. The whitewashed walls stood proud behind an ornate veranda and when she turned to survey the view her gaze ran down verdant lawn, over woodland thicket and across rolling hills. The house nestled amidst a backdrop of trees: some still resplendent in their evergreen glory, some eagerly awaiting the dressmaker of spring.

Hitching the rucksack further up her shoulder Claire entered the building hoping the interior lived up to first impressions.

Inside, the late evening light poured in through a cupola above the main staircase. Craning her neck to take in the detail Claire decided it wouldn't look out of place in a _Hello Magazine_ spread extolling the extravagant pads of the rich and famous.

At last, some glamour.

Claire smiled and sighed, releasing the tension that had built up over the long long day. _I can't believe it was only a few hours ago that I was swinging through the trees like some poorly trained circus ape._ She felt as if she might have aged a decade since the morning.

Claire followed directions to her private room: she had gone over her daily allowance to book it but, for once, it wasn't because she wanted the privacy. After the rollercoaster day she would have welcomed the company of a dorm room but there hadn't been any available. It seemed decadent to rattle round a three-bed room but, as her main intentions were food and sleep, it wasn't like to be an issue for long.

The grandeur ebbed slightly as she entered the depths of the main house. Unlike some of the places she had stayed in thus far, this hostel seemed faded and in need of some love. At last she inserted the key and opened the door to her room.

"Blimey, what's that awful smell?"

Claire looked round the room. It seemed okay, wooden bunks, great view. The odd lingering smell was indefinable. _A quick spritz of perfume will soon mask that._ She looked round again. _Where's the bathroom?_ Her expectations of an en-suite had been set by previous experience. _I have a private room and I still have to go in hunt of the shower? Great. I guess this is more the hostelling I expected when I started. Carl would grin from ear to ear if he could see it._

Through the fading twilight Claire could make out a lake in the distance as she peered through the Georgian window. _It's going to have to wait until tomorrow. I'm too tired to see what delights Hawkshead has to offer. I'm not even sure I'm going to make it to the restaurant._

Slinging her rucksack in the corner Claire bounced on the beds to find the most comfortable one, lay down and was almost instantly asleep.

***

EIGHTEEN

Clare woke to the sound of drums. The thudding noise filled every inch of space in the room around her. It was a few seconds before she associated the rapid rhythm with her own heartbeat. Slowly her senses fought the sound of the drumming. Her ears noted other noises: the rattle of water in old pipes, the swell of birdsong coming through the single-glass window. The pervasive odour of the room crept in her nostrils and reminded her of her location. Sticky eyes unglued and took in the dim glow of dawn seeping through the curtains. And still the drums pounded.

What the hell?

Claire tried to think what had forced her awake. The clatter of the pipes was loud but her earplugs were still half-in and she had become better at ignoring random noises in the night. The dawn light wasn't bright enough to have dragged her out of sleep. Gradually the bass drum steadied into a regular beat and Claire was able to concentrate on her breathing.

She tried to recall her dreams, assuming they must have caused the thumping heartbeat and clammy sweat that she could feel freezing on her forehead in the chilly room. She grabbed at the images in her mind but they slipped away as if she had tried to catch a reflection and found only water. And still the sensations persisted. She wanted to crawl out of herself, to shed an itchy and hated skin.

The feeling of disquiet lingered like the bad smell still permeating the room. Claire plumped her pillow and fidgeted in the bed, trying to return to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes indefinable images swam in the dark and forced the lids open again.

What is going on? I didn't have cheese for dinner. In fact I didn't have dinner. No alcohol, no coffee. No reason for bad dreams.

Admitting defeat Claire rolled on her back and gazed at the underside of the top bunk, forcing herself to dredge the scattered emotions of her dream for meaning. She was conscious of fear and panic, as if she'd lost her phone or was late for a business meeting. No, worse than that. As if she'd lost her job.

Well, haven't I?

Claire explored the thought to see if it was the cause of her unease. _I haven't lost my job, but maybe it is time to start looking for a new one, just in case._ She rolled over onto her side, hoping the decision would calm her agitated brain and let her sleep. Still the jittering in her stomach continued. A bubbling sensation somewhere behind her belly button nagged at her. It felt like a scream building; a scream that would consume her if she let it free.

That's enough now body. Get a grip. You are Claire Carleton, Melanie and Gerald's daughter, Robert and Ruth's sister. You don't have nightmares or flights of fancy, they're not allowed.

A word snagged at her mind as she gave herself a talking-to. _Ruth_. Suddenly a flood of images washed over her eyes. Ruth going to hospital, Ruth strapped to a white bed, Ruth watching terrified as a giant needle came towards her, her eyes wide and wild as she saw it approach.

Claire jerked upright, crashed her head against the top bunk and collapsed back to the mattress with a groan, tears stabbing her eyes.

My poor sister. I've been such a cow. All I was concerned with was what she said about Michael, about how she envied me my perfect life. I should have been worried about her, facing this all alone, having to care for Sky and having no one care for her.

She rolled over and fumbled on the floor for her phone. 5.38am. It was too early to call. Claire tapped at the screen and wrote a text message, hoping it wouldn't wake her sister but needing to connect.

Hey sis. Hope everything goes okay today. Text or call to let me know you're alright. Thinking of you.

Claire looked at the screen and felt the thudding resume in her chest. It wasn't right. It wasn't enough. She tapped at the screen again and typed out two more words before hitting send.

Love you.

***

NINETEEN

Claire swallowed a yawn and commanded her eyelids not to close. The words washed over her, refusing to enter either ears or brain. If the smiling volunteer in front of her had requested one single fact from the short video Claire would have had to admit defeat.

Besides, who cares? I learned enough about Ruskin at Uni to last a lifetime.

She glanced round at the other avid viewers wondering if they, too, were just waiting for the moving pictures to finish. Her fellow tourists included a retired couple and a gaggle of students with their Tutor.

_I wonder if they're Art, Science or Architecture boffs?_ She looked at them with a mixture of sympathy and envy. _As long as they're not in front of me when it comes to queuing for coffee I don't especially care._

Claire gazed surreptitiously out the window, not wanting to be berated for her lack of attention but in dire need of something to stave off sleep. The restless night, coupled with an early start, was taking its toll. _Maybe this wasn't such a smart plan. At least if I'd been dangling by a rope 18m up I'd be wide awake_.

Her early-morning internet trawl for ideas had thrown up only three options: kayaking around Coniston, _Go-Ape_ , and a wander through John Ruskin's pad. She'd decided to risk a short kayak on the morrow, when the forecast was for warmer weather. Go-Ape had been immediately dismissed. _I've done enough monkeying around for this week. Maybe I'll swing by later in my Lakes tour._ She sniggered at her own puns and then decided she should stop before she went completely bananas

At last the video ended. Claire was free to meander round the old house and lose herself in the splendour of an earlier era. A soporific calm descended as she settled into the slow tread of the gallery viewer. It reminded her of college field trips and lazy Sundays.

_This isn't particularly thrilling blog copy but who cares. I'll write something lyrical about the view._ She glanced out the window at the lake, pewter-dark beneath cloudy skies. _Hmm maybe not._ She smiled. Despite the overcast day she felt at peace.

"Claire? Claire Carleton?"

Her tranquillity was shattered by the screech of estuary vowels.

" Blinkin 'ell it is you. What're you doing up 'ere in the arse-end of nowhere?"

Claire turned, heat radiating from her face. _Please, no. I'll do anything. Let it not be her_. She raised her eyes slowly, as if allowing the universe ample opportunity to correct this terrible mistake. Her gaze took in sensible black shoes, tights, black skirt, and her heart lurched optimistically. Cherie would never wear such normal attire. Her head lifted to face the owner of the dreaded voice and hope died. Grinning cheerfully from atop a steward's shirt and jacket was the face she knew and loathed.

"Hello Cherie, how lovely to see you. I hardly expected to see anyone I knew working here in the back of beyond or however it was you so eloquently put it."

"I'm just helping out me ma for a week, she was left stranded by one of her staff."

"Your mother works here?"

Claire had never met Cherie's mother and had always assumed they were cut from the same cloth.

"Yeah she came up 'ere when pop died, couldn't wait to leave Essex. Always said she'd made a mistake marrying 'im." Claire looked over her shoulder as Cherie's strident voice echoed around the room.

"Is she here? Won't she be upset to hear you talking about her?"

"Nah she'll be in the office. Besides we're always ribbing her for her la-di-da ways."

This from the girl who spent ten years at a public school and still can't pronounce the letter H?

Cherie looked Claire up and down and her grin widened. "You're looking a bit rough. Times 'ard is they?"

Claire gritted her teeth and then forced them to relax into a smile. "I'm on a special assignment for Happy Cola. I'm an Advertising Director." She squared her shoulders before swearing silently. _Damn, she did it again. How does she do that to me?_ She could see by Cherie's sparkling eyes that the woman had achieved her intention of winding Claire up.

She hasn't seen me for, what, a decade and her first aim is to antagonise me? Silly cow.

Unwelcome flashbacks from school filled the space between them. Claire looked around for a neutral topic, not wanting to get into a fight and ruin her serenity. Her eyes alighted on a poster with a Ruskin quote on it.

"Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces up, snow is exhilarating; there is no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather."

The appropriateness of it made her laugh out loud, remembering her trudge across the snowy Pennines and the scramble through hail to reach the top of Skiddaw. _No such thing as bad weather? Right._

"Still larfing at me then, Claire? You always did fink you were better than me; lording it over us when your folks are nah better than mine."

Claire flushed with shock at the bitter words hurled from frost-pink lips that no longer smiled.

"Me laugh at you? I spent my whole school life trying to stay away from your vicious tongue. I'm surprised you can stand upright with that chip balanced on your shoulder. Not that it's any business of yours but I was laughing at the Ruskin quote." Claire indicated the poster to her right.

"Still trying to get one over on me aren't yer? Laugh at this dry old trout's stuff? Now I know yer talking bollocks. I've never read such a steamin' pile of poo in me life." Cherie shook her head as if Claire's words had merely confirmed her dislike. She threw one more spiked look at her erstwhile school companion and stomped from the room.

Claire stood motionless as the footsteps receded, unsure whether to laugh or weep. She became aware of shakes coursing through her body and a loud hammering in her chest. She nodded an apologetic farewell to Ruskin's room and headed for the café.

I need caffeine.

***

TWENTY

Claire looked round towards the door at the sound of voices approaching the hostel. She knew that no one she wanted to see was likely to walk in and still she looked. _Just because I'm still in the Lakes doesn't mean he's going to turn up. There must be at least twenty hostels in Cumbria and, besides, this isn't Casablanca._

She turned back to the iPad and concentrated on finding something interesting to say about John Ruskin her trip to Brantwood

I can't really put 'bumped into catty old school friend in the most random place today and it turns out she hated me as much as I hated her. Isn't life funny?'

What else to write though? It was hardly a high-adrenalin activity wandering round a museum or supping a latte in the café.

_If I'm going to keep my job I need blog traffic. I can't give Carl an excuse to call this venture a failure._ She thought about making up an adventure but knew she'd get found out in a heartbeat. _There might be only ten people following my blog but if I say I walked Striding Edge this morning and I didn't you can bet they'll know someone who was up there or I'll get the weather wrong._

Claire gazed around the hostel lounge, taking in the stylish fireplace and soothing décor, and felt pleased with herself for stumbling across it in the guide book. She'd been flicking through trying to find a hostel that wasn't a bunkhouse and her eye had stopped at what she thought was the Holy Cow hostel. Smiling she had thumbed back through the pages and was disappointed that it actually said Holly How. _I prefer my version._

Claire heard voices outside the lounge door and the hairs on her arm rose. _Just because it's an Australian accent doesn't mean anything. You're worse than a teenager at a school disco. Give it up and write your damn blog._

Tapping at the iPad Claire wrote some purple prose about the views from Brantwood and included a couple of inspirational Ruskin quotes. The voices in the hallway grew louder and then diminished, as the new arrivals dispersed to their various dorm rooms. It sounded like a bus-load had arrived and Claire hoped only the quiet ones were heading for her dorm. It had been empty when she arrived and she'd had a sneaky hope that it might remain that way.

I knew that was too much to ask.

Claire bent her head over her phone, searching through her photos to find one suitable for the blog. She heard someone enter the lounge but forced herself not to look up.

The newcomer walked across the room and stood near the sofa without speaking. Still Claire refused to look up. She knew she was being rude, breaking some kind of hostelling rule by not welcoming the new arrival. She heard the stranger clear their throat, then laugh.

"Hey Claire. Saw the rust bucket outside in the car park. Not in Liverpool then?"

Heart thudding, Claire at last looked up and felt a surge in her chest that wouldn't have embarrassed her teenage self. Her face spread in an involuntary grin as she gazed at the tanned skin and dirty-blonde hair.

"Hi Josh."

***

TWENTY-ONE

"Hey Joshy, they've got a room with three beds. You wanna share with Chloe and me?" The voice broke off as it came closer. "Oh, didn't mean to interrupt. You okay? I'm Beth."

Claire sat mute as the bouncing ball of curly blonde hair burst into the room and galloped over to where Josh stood gazing down at her, a wry smile still on his face. He turned as Beth approached spilling words like a gill after heavy rainfall. His smile widened and Claire felt a tug behind her ribs at the warmth it contained.

_It's only been 48 hours since I left him at Keswick, how pally can they be?_ A quick mental tally revealed the startling information that she'd only known Josh for just over a week. _I guess time is different when you're with someone 24-7 and experiencing new things. A bit like hostages or people stranded on a broken bus._ Not that Claire had any idea what either experience might be like, but she had read about such things.

Silence spread through the lounge and Claire realised Beth was waiting for her to return the greeting.

"Oh. I'm Claire. Hello, nice to meet you. Are you travelling together?" She tried to keep the jealous note of enquiry out of her voice but something in Josh's smirk suggested she wasn't entirely successful.

Beth laughed. "Nah we met on the bus. It takes a long time from Keswick, we had time to chat then and on the walk up. You two old mates?"

It was Claire's turn to laugh although it sounded brittle in her ears. "Not really, I met Josh a week or so ago, at Kielder."

"You two Sheila's don't mind me." Josh held up his hands, palms forward, and took a step back, as if giving the girls space to discuss him at length.

Beth giggled and Claire rolled her eyes. "Just being polite Josh, that's all. What made you guys head over to Coniston? There doesn't seem to be much going on." She flushed at the note of hostility in her words and glanced down at the iPad on the pretence of turning it off, letting her heavy hair swing across her face.

"We're booked on a kayak trip tomorrow." Beth perched on the arm of the sofa and pushed her unruly curls behind her ears. They immediately sprang back, giving her the look of a cheerful daisy. "Chloe and I fancied getting out on the water and the weather's meant to be grand."

Oh great. I'm going to have the chirpy threesome on my kayak trip unless maybe they booked somewhere else.

"Are you kayaking on Coniston?" Claire tried to sound interested rather than nosy.

"Sure, there's a place nearby somewhere." Beth glanced out the window as if expecting to see the kayak centre nestled in the hostel grounds.

"It's not far away. I can give you a lift if you like, assuming we're booked on the same trip." The words were out before she could stop them. _Damn._

"You're going kayaking Claire?" Josh looked up from picking his nails and raised an eyebrow. "That boss of yours been turning the screw again?"

Warmth flooded through Claire at Josh's words. Having someone, even a philandering Aussie, know about her predicament made her feel connected to the world.

"No, nothing new from Carl. But, you know, I have to find something for the blog. I even did a Treetop Trek yesterday."

Something akin to respect appeared on Josh's face. "You? Little Miss 'I didn't know I was terrified of heights'? Good on yer, Claire. And now you have a hankering for some paddle action?"

Claire wasn't about to admit she fancied winter kayaking about as much as being nibbled to death by mice.

"Oh yes, just call me the kayak queen."

"Sweet."

***

TWENTY-TWO

"Come on Claire, keep up."

Claire glared at the V-shape of people in front of her as Beth, Chloe and Josh powered across the lake. Training hadn't been so bad and Claire had been thrilled with how quickly she had mastered the art of propelling the craft strapped to her hips. Her bubble of happiness quickly deflated when they reached the open water and her so-called companions left her rocking gently in their wake.

Refusing to capsize through trying to catch up, Claire concentrated on getting her technique right and on ignoring the blisters forming across the pads of her palms.

"That's it Claire, great, you're getting the hang of it. For a first-timer you're doing brilliantly."

Claire turned to smile at the instructor and her paddle stuck in some weed. It wrenched sideways, nearly tipping her out of her kayak.

Eyes forward, Claire. Josh will pee his pants laughing if you take a dip in this freezing pond.

"This is grand!" Beth's voice floated back across the water as she and Chloe prodded at each other with their paddles, each trying to put the other in the lake.

"Your friends seem a right craic, how long have you been travelling together?"

Claire looked back carefully, trying to locate the source of the new voice without tipping herself over.

"I'm not travelling with them. As far as I can tell they all met yesterday on the bus over from Keswick. I met Josh last week a bit further north."

"Really? They seem like buddies from way back. That's travelling for you, I guess." The man deftly paddled forward until he was alongside Claire's red kayak. He waved a salute and said, "name's Charlie."

"Claire." She nodded in return and tried not to clash her paddle against his.

The void of conversation yawned between them, demanding to be filled. She didn't feel like chatting but it was obvious that the man wanted to talk and, besides, Josh and the girls were too far ahead for anything but a bellowed exchange of words. She groped for something to say.

"Are you travelling with friends?"

"Nah I'm going solo. Just a month or three before I head back to Ireland to find a job. It aint easy right now, specially not in Dublin. Thought I'd have a bit o' fun before I have to get me hands dirty."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a chef. Or leastways that's what I'm trained fer. What I'll be doing back in Dublin is anyone's guess."

"Is there not much work in catering?" Claire listened to her words and wanted to Eskimo-roll into the lake. _No wonder the others have buggered off. Could you be any more boring?_

If her new friend found her question obvious or dull he was either too polite or too shocked to let on.

"There's not much work of any sort. Times is hard. Not a great time to be looking for paid employment."

Claire shivered beneath her waterproofs. _I hope that doesn't apply to me._ Her head was already full of images of starting a new job since her arrival at the activity centre with Josh and his mini-harem. Claire wasn't sure how much more adrenalin-seeking, or rubbing shoulders with strangers, she could willingly do, no matter how much she wanted not to fail.

"What is it you do?" The man threw out the question between puffs as he paddled to keep up with Claire who had veering off to the left.

"I work in... marketing." She hoped he hadn't notice the tiny hesitation. _Lord only knows what it is I do these days?_

As often happened when Claire told someone in a vocational career what she did for a living, the man's face went blank. His lips opened and shut slightly as he sought something interesting to say in response.

"That's nice."

Claire chuckled under her breath and held her paddle aloft as a wake from a passing boat rocked the kayak. _I guess no one knows what people in marketing actually do, least of all people in marketing. Play with pretty pictures and read papers, I think that's the general consensus. What about kayaking across a freezing lake in the north of England, or dangling from a tree suspended by a rope and harness? Abseiling down a waterfall? Sharing a room with five other women, some of whom have only a passing relationship with shower gel. Are they things I can puff-off on my CV?_

The sound of splashing shook Claire from her reverie and she looked up just in time to get a face-full of water from Josh's paddle as he swung round beside her.

"Thanks. As if I wasn't cold enough."

"Lighten up cranky, what's eating you? You've been chillier than a penguin's arse since we pitched up yesterday. If you really wanted to ditch me you should have headed to Liverpool like you said."

"Would that be better? Am I cramping your style?"

"Ha, it'd take more than a jealous Sheila to cramp my style."

"Jealous? I'm not jealous. If you choose to hook up with every woman under the age of fifty that passes your way that's no concern of mine."

Claire dipped her paddle in the water and pushed her craft forwards, concentrating on her technique so Josh had nothing else to sneer at. The sun shone overhead but didn't penetrate the waterproof and life-jacket she was bundled in. Claire lowered her head and pictured the mug of hot chocolate waiting for her when they returned to the activity centre.

Josh paddled alongside her in silence for a few minutes before clucking his tongue and digging his paddle in deep. He was soon several lengths ahead and the sound of his laughter mingled with Chloe and Beth's as the three of them splashed each other like naughty schoolchildren.

***

#  TWENTY-THREE

"Still sulking Claire? Aren't you a bit old to be acting like a silly schoolgirl?"

Claire looked up at Josh and tried to make sense of the sounds coming out of his mouth. _Sulking, school girl, Sky, Ruth, sister_. The words marched through her consciousness without leaving a mark. She felt rather than saw Josh lean over and peer into her face.

"Have I really upset you? Is it because we soaked you at the lake today? You looked cute: like a little kitten who'd toppled into a bath."

Claire looked at the phone cradled in her lap and tried to absorb what Josh was saying.

He sat next to her on the sofa and his voice washed around her like a warm wave. He talked into her silence but the words barely registered. Something about it being lonely on the road and that maybe running away was the wrong thing to have done _._

_Run away_. _I'd like to do that. I'm sure Ruth would too._

"You can't run away from cancer," she said, her voice alien and weak.

"What?" Josh's response was curt. The harsh tone surprised Claire, momentarily dragging her out of her bewilderment.

"What?" She echoed him without understanding.

"You said you can't run away from cancer, what did you mean by that?"

She turned to face him and fell into the blackness of his eyes. Shaking off feelings she couldn't process, Claire said quietly "My sister has a brain tumour. They're operating in the morning. She needs me to look after her six-year-old daughter for a week or two at Easter while she has chemo. Is there anything else you need to know?"

Josh moved to the edge of the sofa, his face white. "Did she say whether it was primary or secondary? What part of the brain is it in?" His voice was clipped and business like. "Where is she being treated?"

"Addenbrookes," Claire responded, finally hearing a question she could answer. "How do you know to ask all those things?" Claire had sat mute as her sister broke the news, her brain empty and cavernous.

"Oncology is - was - my specialism." Josh spoke the words as if they pained him.

"What's Onc-whatever you said?"

"Treatment of cancer."

"You're a doctor?"

"I was."

Claire looked at Josh. _He's not much older than me. What gives?_ Part of Claire wanted to pursue the thought, but curiosity about Josh's past was soon swamped by her present worries. She wished she could recall everything Ruth said on the phone so she could ask Josh what it all meant. As hard as she tried to remember her sister's words only two sentences were chisled into her memory. _I need you to take Sky_ and _It's malignant, they're going to operate tomorrow._

Josh and Claire sat together on the sofa, close but not touching. Around them the hostel bustled with chatter. Beth's laugh echoed from behind them, where a raucous game of Trivial Pursuit was underway. Each lost in their own thoughts, the two almost-strangers sat in silence.

***

#  TWENTY-FOUR

"I have to get going." Claire pushed up from the sofa then stumbled and caught herself on the arm.

"When did you last eat?" Josh looked up and it seemed like he was staring from the bottom of a well. Claire was glad she didn't know the memories consuming him. His face was a thin mask over a deep pit of pain.

"I had the hot chocolate when we finished our kayak. I'm not sure after that."

Josh checked his watch. "It's 6pm. You need to eat lady."

Claire frowned. "No, I need to leave. I'm not meant to be here, I'm booked into Grasmere tonight." She looked around the lounge as if trying to locate her rucksack before remembering it was loaded in the Skoda already.

"You're leaving? Must you move every night? It's not great, you know. You'll never meet people, get the hostelling vibe, if you check out at 10am every day."

"I met you didn't I? Besides, I'm not here to meet people, I'm here to work. I have to get round 200 hostels and then I'm free. It's meant to take a whole year but I didn't sign anything. I just want to go home." Her voice trailed off and she was conscious of a whiney tone in it last heard coming from Sky's mouth. She inhaled deeply and forced a smile. "Besides, it looks like I'll be taking a week or two out to look after my niece."

"Surely she can stay in the hostels with you? Kids love that sort of thing and from what I can tell most of the YHA ones are kid-friendly. More's the pity."

Claire got the impression the last words were added because they were expected rather than from heartfelt belief. She shook off the thought and responded to Josh's words.

"Look after a child in one of these places? It'd be a nightmare. She'd probably fall out her bunk-bed and end up in A&E. Besides, there are hardly any hostels near my sister's house."

"You have a car don't you? Sheesh girl it's all problems and no solutions with you."

Claire bristled at his tone, chewed over some choice phrases to respond with, then decided she didn't have the energy for a fight. She tilted her head slightly and looked him in the eye before turning to head for the door.

"Wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. My head's all over the place." Josh hurried to keep up and walked to the door with Claire.

"So, where to after Grasmere?"

"Why, are you worried that you'll bump into me again or do you think you'll get tired of the gruesome twosome?" Claire glanced over to where Beth and Chloe were playing charades and giggling.

"They're just having fun, Claire, lighten up." Then he seemed to remember their earlier conversation. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a jerk." He ran his fingers through his hair, cursing as they caught on a knot. "I, er, look, let me give you my email address. If you have any questions, you know, about your sister, you can drop me a line." He patted his pockets for a pen.

Claire pulled out her phone and loaded a new contact. "Fire away."

Josh recited his address, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He reminded Claire of a guilty school boy giving his contact details to a copper.

She finished typing and stood waiting to see if Josh had anything else to say. He merely stood, hands still concealed, shoulders hunched. He looked up at her through his tangle of hair, his expression inscrutable.

"Well, bye then. Maybe see you again."

Josh nodded and gave a half-smile. "You take care, city girl."

Claire nodded once and walked away without looking back.

***

#  TWENTY-FIVE

Claire caught her lower lip between her teeth and let herself into the dorm room. She had hoped for a private room so she could get her head straight and concentrate on Ruth, but the hostel didn't have any left. _At least it's a single-sex dorm._ Her last conversation with Josh rang through her mind. _Men are more trouble than a room full of creative directors._

Peering round the door Claire thought for one hopeful moment that the room was empty. Then she heard strains of _David Grey_ playing quietly and the happy bubble popped. Pushing the door wider she scanned the room, relieved to see only one bed with obvious signs of occupation. A grey-haired lady sat crossed-legged on a lower bunk writing in a journal of some description. The music was coming from an iPad on the bed next to her.

At least she isn't a twenty-something Swedish girl. She doesn't look like she'll come stumbling in at 2am reeking of vodka.

The woman raised her head as Claire closed the door behind her. Her face lit up with a warm smile and Claire felt herself smiling in return. "Hi, I'm Claire."

"Maggie. Pleased to meet you." The woman nodded down at her iPad. "Will the music bother you, shall I turn it off?"

Claire's eyes widened at the unexpected politeness. "No, it's fine. I haven't heard David Grey since I was a student. It's rather nice." She headed for the bunk tucked in the corner and kicked off her shoes. She needed to put something on her blog, even if just a paragraph, and knew she needed to get onto it before sleep dragged her down. Her eyes felt like a horde of partygoers were bouncing around inside them and prodding at the walls with their beer bottles.

Staring at the blank page Claire tried to remember what had happened that day. The kayak seemed a lifetime ago. All that resonated was the call from her sister and the implications. Without stopping to let her subconscious talk her out of it, Claire decided to write from the heart. _Isn't that what Josh told me to do. He's a man of hidden depths. Maybe I should listen to him._ David Grey's voice swept through her, the words tugging at her stomach. "Life in slow motion somehow it don't feel real, Life in slow motion somehow it don't feel real."

She began to type.

### Life in Slow Motion

I am sitting in Grasmere hostel listening to David Grey. The lyrics _Life in slow motion, somehow it don't feel real_ are resonating deep in my gut.

A hostelling life is a life lived in slow motion. Some days I don't move more than ten miles from hostel to hostel. The highlight of my day is a smile from a stranger. I have left the speeding motorway of city life and I feel as giddy as if I've stepped too quickly off a travelator at the airport. I went kayaking this morning and watched, bemused, while larger-than-life girls splashed water at each other with their paddles. I found myself seeking a quiet corner of the lake to absorb the sound of bird song and admire the reflections of the hills broken apart by ripples.

Since starting this adventure I find I walk more slowly, breathe more deeply, sup my Earl Grey tea with appreciative pleasure. This blog is meant to record the excitement of a life lived outdoors; the thrill of hiking, biking, abseiling and rock climbing. What I hadn't appreciated until today was the simple joy of silence. Having received some bad news I was grateful to climb into my basic little car, drive along quiet winding roads and let my mind be still.

Claire read through what she had written, unsure whether it made sense, fearful that it made her seem like a hippy. Her eyes itched with tiredness and unshed tears. The music had moved on from _Life in slow motion_ to _From here you can almost see the sea._ The haunting melody took her back to university days - battling hangovers and fatigue to churn out essays so that she could go party with her friends. Back then she hadn't appreciated David Grey, he sounded far too maudlin, but her flat mate had been a fan. Now, lying back on her hostel bed staring at the underside of the bunk above, she felt serene. A nagging thought that she was losing her mind whispered in her ear, but not loud enough to keep her from sleep.

***

#  TWENTY-SIX

"My sister's having surgery today."

Maggie looked up from her book and focussed on Claire as she spoke into the silent room.

"Oh my."

Maggie paused as if unsure what else to say. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Claire sat motionless on her bunk considering the question. Did she? She wasn't even sure why she'd blurted out the news to a stranger, except that Maggie seemed effused with warmth and kindness.

"No, not really. She's having a brain tumour removed. I'd rather not think about it."

Maggie snapped her book shut and pushed off the bed. "Well then, what you need is some fresh air and Grasmere Gingerbread."

"What?" Claire reeled from the sudden movement, her sleep-deprived brain struggling to process the change of speed.

"Grasmere Gingerbread. Don't tell me you haven't heard of it?"

Claire shook her head and swallowed the lump in her throat.

Maggie laughed gently and walked over to sit on the bunk next to Claire. She put her arm around her and squeezed, as if they'd known each other for years rather than hours.

"No need to look so crestfallen, it's hardly a sin. We're rather proud of our local shop, that's all."

"Oh are you from round here?" Claire considered Maggie's Queens English. "You don't sound, erm, Cumbrian?" She hesitated, hoping she hadn't offended her new acquaintance.

"Haha no I don't have the local dialect. My parents sent me to school in Leicestershire. So, how about it?"

Claire looked puzzled, trying to keep up. It felt like listening to the news from the bottom of a pond.

"The walk? To The Grasmere Gingerbread Shop?"

Claire nodded and let Maggie pull her up from the bed.

The air outside bit deep, cutting into Claire like a Sabatier knife. She huddled into her coat and tucked her chin into her collar. The landscape was flat and muted like a sepia photograph.

Maybe this wasn't such a great idea.

Maggie strode off, head high, arms swinging. Claire scurried after her and hoped it wasn't a long walk. She felt like a small child trying to keep up with her mummy. Maggie seemed to realise she was walking alone and turned to see what had happened to Claire.

She laughed at the bundle of misery scuttling behind her. "Sorry Claire, I'm in hill-walking mode. I'll slow down."

"You walk across hills at that speed? Are you superhuman?"

"Just bred to it. My parents are avid hill-walkers."

"My dad plays golf."

The shop was dark and bustling with tourists browsing such delights as Kendal Mint Cake and Rum Butter. It felt like a sauna after the bitter wind outside. Claire soaked the heat into her bones and let the noise wash over her. She could imagine Sky in a place like this, jumping up and down to see over the counter and through the bodies of people queuing to buy their gingerbread.

Maybe I could bring her hostelling with me. At least she'd be company.

Maggie was explaining the history of the shop, how it was set up in the 1850s by Sarah Wilson a local lady. How she lost both her daughters to tuberculosis and her husband shortly after. Although said in a matter-of-fact tone, the words sank into Claire like lead-weights.

What if I lose Ruth? I barely know her. How much time have we spent together since we left home? Hardly any.

She felt the guilt surge up her throat and lodge in the back of her mouth. The heat of the room pressed in until she had to get out. She shouldered her way through the mingling people and pushed through the door. The winter air slapped her in the face, numbing her senses and causing her eyes to water.

Standing outside the tiny cottage Claire pulled freezing air into her lungs and stared around without seeing. She heard the click of the door behind her and felt an arm around her shoulders.

"Sorry, that was insensitive of me. I was so caught up in the history I forgot about your sister. You must be very worried. There's a garden centre just down the road. Let's go for a cup of coffee and you can tell me about it."

Claire let herself be comforted. Let herself be led away like a lost child.

***

#  TWENTY-SEVEN

"How come you're staying in a hostel then if you come from Cumbria?" Claire cupped her hands round her mug and inhaled the scent of freshly-ground coffee. She watched Maggie through the rising steam.

"Oh I don't live here now. I met my husband at school and we moved south. I come back while the kids are away, to indulge in nostalgia and stock up on gingerbread."

"By yourself?" Claire didn't mean to be inquisitive but the words were out before she could swallow them.

Maggie just smiled and brushed a stray hair away from her face. "Oh yes. Steve hates it up here in the spring. Too soggy. He says it takes him a month to dry out. I like the weather. Sometimes it's nice to walk with the mizzling rain on your face keeping you cool. There are fewer tourists at this time of year too. You saw how busy the shop was today: imagine what it's like in August."

"Did you actually live here in Grasmere?"

"No, our place was out on the hills. I liked to come here as a child and wander through the graveyard. You know Wordsworth is buried near the Gingerbread Shop? The place is flooded with daffodils at this time of year. It's beautiful, we should go there." Maggie moved in her seat as if ready to flee the café and wander amidst wild daffodils for the rest of the day.

_Please, God, no. I think I had my fill of Wandering Lonely as a Cloud during A Level English._ She didn't want to offend Maggie so she nodded absently as if the suggestion had been rhetorical.

"Has the place changed much?" Claire decided distraction was the best way to take Maggie's mind off a tramp over the heads of a load of dead people.

"Well the Gingerbread Shop hasn't changed but then it's been the same for 150 years. As for the rest of Grasmere, it's all got a bit posh to be honest. Not the place I knew when I was young, that's for sure."

Maggie chatted about growing up in Cumbria, about other local landmarks and famous people; Beatrix Potter and John Ruskin.

"I went to Brantwood," Claire chipped in, feeling the same gratification she did when a question came up on University Challenge that she knew the answer to. "I bumped into an old school friend." A frown pulled her face down before she felt it and forced her skin smooth.

"That's the thing about staying in hostels, travelling around. You always bump into people you know in the most random places. I stayed in a hostel in New Zealand once and met a lad I knew from University. The hostel was out in the sticks, only ten beds in the place. We had to shoo sheep out the kitchen. You wouldn't believe it if you read it in a novel."

Claire nodded and was about to comment when her phone buzzed. The half-eaten scone from earlier dropped to the bottom of her stomach and her ears rang with rushing blood.

"Are you okay, you look pale?" Maggie reached a hand across the table and Claire jumped at her touch. "Was that your phone? Don't mind me, you answer it." Maggie sat back in her chair and gazed away as if giving Claire as much privacy as the busy café afforded.

She nearly dropped the phone as she picked it off the table and unlocked it. The buzz wasn't a text message as she'd hoped but notification of an email. Claire was about to put the phone back next to her coffee cup when she noticed who the email was from.

What does he want?

Glancing up at Maggie she could see she was absorbed with her own thoughts. Claire quickly loaded her email and clicked open.

Claire, I need to see you. Are you still at Grasmere? Can you stay another night? J

"The cheek of him!" Claire only realised how loud she had spoken when the couple at the next table turned round. Her face flushed oven-hot and she dropped her head so her hair would shield her.

"I take it that wasn't about your sister?" Maggie looked amused at Claire's outburst.

"No, just some annoying bloke I met in Kielder. Being all cryptic and commanding."

"Oh?" Maggie raised an eyebrow and dimples appeared in her cheeks.

Claire felt herself bristling at the expression, then she laughed. It felt good, like a spin class after a tricky board meeting. "It's not romantic, if that's what you mean. He's a friend, as much as anyone is when you've known them a week or two. But he's the most mysterious bloke. I wonder what he wants? Probably to cadge a lift somewhere. I'm pretty certain that's the only reason he befriended me in the first place."

"People make friends on the road for all sorts of reasons. The same as there are all sorts of reasons why people are on the road." Her face grew distant and Claire wondered for the first time if Maggie had told her the truth about why she was travelling alone.

Honestly, I thought this was a simple work assignment. It's starting to feel like an episode of Days of Our Lives.

She inhaled the scent of fresh coffee and banana bread and sat back in her chair. The sound of happy chattering and the splash of cars driving on rain-drenched roads outside the window wrapped around her like strands of pulsing life.

Still, it beats working for a living.

***

TWENTY-EIGHT

"Josh, what's going on?" Claire had been watching the door to the lounge for two hours and the words launched themselves across the room without her volition. In her head the words had sounded hard-hitting but out in the open they whined like a nagging-wife. She inhaled through her nose and watched silently while Josh crossed towards her without making eye contact.

An aroma of smoke, cheap aftershave and sweat came with him, making Clare feel lightheaded, as if she'd been working late on an assignment for weeks on too much caffeine and not enough sleep.

"How's your sister."

"Okay, thanks. The surgery went well and she came round from the anaesthetic demanding tea and toast."

"That's good." Josh nodded and looked around the room.

"Where are Beth and Chloe?" Claire winced at the sarcastic tone in her voice.

"I left them at Coniston. It's complicated enough without them."

"What is?" Claire wanted to stamp her foot. "What's it all about Josh. You send me a cryptic email; expect me to stay on here just because you wish it, with no explanation. What gives?"

"I need... help."

Claire felt as if she'd stepped off a curb. It took a moment for her to answer and when she did her voice was sceptical. "Help with what? I haven't discovered anything you're scared of. Certainly nothing I could assist you with."

"I need you to help me tell a story. You're good with words." He let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped. He dug his hands into his pockets then pulled them out again. "Can I sit down?"

"It's not like you to ask." Claire patted the sofa next to her but Josh chose the one on an angle. He perched on the edge of the seat, leaned forwards and rested his elbows on his knees. He was close enough that Claire could feel his breath on her face. She guessed his lunch to have been spicy pot noodle and wondered if she could sit back without offending him.

His eyes were dark with worry and something else. Fear. A strong desire to hold him and shush him began to build in Claire's chest. She ignored it, settling for loosely clasping his hands, mirroring his posture. She waited while he sat, head low. His hair flopped forwards and she would have pushed it back except it was too greasy to touch.

"You're the closest thing to a friend I have." Josh's voice came, muffled, through the tangle of hair. Claire's eyes opened wide but she kept her lips closed. He raised his head and pinned Claire with an intense look, as if urging her to listen without judgement.

"I've been running. Hiding. And now there is nowhere else to run. My family..." He swallowed and looked down again. When he raised his eyes they were red. "My family think I've been working. In a hospital in Manchester. Christies. I needed a fresh start and they think that's it."

"The haircut? The shirt?"

"Yes. I Skype when I'm in a city and can scrub up, but mostly I tell them I'm too busy." He caught his lip between his teeth and looked over Claire's shoulder.

"How long have you been here?"

"Since Christmas."

"Oh." Claire wasn't sure what to say. She tried to imagine how she would feel if a family member disappeared for three months. Then she realised she'd only spoken to Robert once since Christmas and came to the conclusion she probably wouldn't notice.

"So, you've been lying to your family and hiding overseas. I'm sure we'd all like to do that from time to time. Why the sudden urgency and where do I come in?"

"I need to tell the truth, or at least some of it."

Claire wanted to say, _which bit? The fact you've been living like Stig of the Dump trying to bed every woman you meet or the bit where you only shower and shave to convince your Mum you really are a hot-shot doctor in an English hospital._ She remembered his advice when Ruth had called with her news. _He really is a hot-shot doctor. Why the pretence? Forget Days of Our Lives, I'm turning into Miss Marple._ She caught his anxious gaze and realised he was waiting for her to respond.

"Why now? Did you suddenly wake up with a conscience?"

Josh reeled from the words, his head snapping back as if from a physical blow. He dropped Claire's clasp and ran a hand through his hair.

Claire's eyes narrowed at his reaction, wondering if her words had been too harsh. She had only meant his lying to his Mum but now she wondered if he had more troubling his peace of mind than he had let on.

Josh cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. He folded his arms and looked over to the window although the dark skies outside meant all that could be seen were reflections of the hostel lounge.

He cleared his throat again, freeing the words. "Fiona is flying over with the children. She's going to be at Manchester Airport in 48 hours."

"Who is Fiona?" Claire felt a flutter in her gut but ignored it. She didn't want to be Miss Marple anymore.

"She's my wife."

###

This story is continued on Amanda Martin's daily blog at http://writermummy.wordpress.com

Download Volume Three now

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About the Author

Amanda Martin was born in Hertfordshire in 1976. After graduating with first class honours from Leeds University she wandered around the world trying to find her place in it. She tried various roles, in England and New Zealand, including Bar Manager, Marketing Manager, Consultant and Artist, before deciding that Writer/Mummy best summed her up. She lives in Northamptonshire with her husband, two children and labradoodle Kara and can mostly be found at http://writermummy.wordpress.com or on Twitter or Facebook.

Also by Amanda Martin:

BABY BLUES AND WEDDING SHOES

Amanda's latest release, the chick lit novel Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes is available now.

5 out of 5 stars **"** **Wonderful, engaging story** **"**

" _Wonderful, engaging story by a talented writer. Pleasantly surprising depth in a plot which one might have initially assumed would be a predictable meet-cute, boy meets girl, happily ever after. A more thought provoking story evolved than expected in the beginning. Author has a nice way with descriptive words which makes one feel nearly in the room. Readers with an appreciation for a bit of reality and a bit of hopeful romantic wishful dreaming will not be disappointed by this lovely tale. Well done."_

DRAGON WRAITHS

Dragon Wraiths, a Young Adult novel. Read the reviews:

4 out of 5 stars " **Pacey and engaging** "

" _This is a wonderful romp for the YA audience that definitely crosses over to Adult (which is me!). Amanda writes in a wonderfully emotive and poetic yet also pacey style and I was at once absorbed and engaged with the central character. I wouldn't call myself a fantasy fan by any stretch (the work Tolkien just makes me want to snooze...) yet I was completely onboard with this parallel world and I found the transition between them, and the entire storyline credible. I found a Harry Potter-esque sensibility to the author's use of intriguing devices and methods for the real and fantasy worlds combining - but this is not to say there is any pastiche going on. Thoroughly recommend the book - and am hoping there's a sequel on the cards!"_

4 out of 5 stars **"** **Thoroughly enjoyable read** **"**

" _Thoroughly enjoyable read. Loved how dragons and humans worked together. Very original and entertaining._ _  
_ _It's a fast paced novel that any age with imagination could enjoy. I'm way out of YA age and still loved it. The ending really made me smile._ _  
_ _I'd read another by this author."_

