“Who’s lead?” He looked at her, a few beads of sweat rolling off his shoulders.
The urge to put her hands on it was strong.
“Me.” She was always lead.
“Go for it.” No argument, no disputing it.
She wiped her hands down on her shorts and headed to the base of the rocks. Then it started; the sense of freedom, the release. Every bit of concentration was on the next step or the next grip to get to the top. She was aware of Alex behind her and the rope that connected them, probably unnecessary but they’d done it anyway.
Her fingers had softened too much, her nails looked too pretty. There would be a few scrapes on her arms and knees when she got to the top but this was where she felt alive. A game of chess against one of the oldest pieces of England.
The end loomed and she pulled herself onto horizontal ground, Alex about ten seconds behind.
His grin was huge and Abby realised it was mirroring hers. Sheer pleasure.
“How do you feel?”
She didn’t have words. She threw her arms around him and brought her lips to his, feeling his hands grab onto her bottom and pull her closer to him, the reddening sun behind them adding to the heat contained in the kiss.
Six
Tim Wakefield had been a pub landlord for as long as Alex could remember. Once upon a time, he’d ran a pub in Severton, before emigrating to the Algarve to play more golf and run an English themed bar there. Then he’d met his now wife, who was holidaying out there, and decided that love was more important than sunshine and seventeen holes of golf of a morning and had come back to the Peaks, this time to Castleton, home of the Blue John Mines and various other caves and caverns that crawled under the peaks.
“Long time no see, young man,” Tim popped a pint of lime and soda on the bar, looking knowingly at Alex. “And what’s your lady having?”
“White wine please. Dry.” He glanced over at Abby who was looking through the menu. She’d caught the sun, her skin pinkened and her hair mussed by the wind that never really left Windgather. “You seen anything of any of Fletcher’s lads?”
Tim Wakefield’s second cousin twice removed also happened to be Alfie Fletcher. It was a little known fact, unless you crossed Tim’s path or owed him money. Other than that, the man stuck to the right side of the law.
“Some. Why?”
“I need some info.”
“I can ask. But they might ask why I’m asking.”
“I’m trying to find a missing person. Matilda Wray. She was a girlfriend of Kenny Gallagher about two years ago.”
“Leave it with me. How’s your dad?”
The topic moved on in the blink of an eye. Alex knew his name wouldn’t be thrown into the mix, not unless Tim spoke to him first. This was community policing: know who you could talk to, make those careful decisions about what you could turn a blind eye to, and listen.
Alex took the drinks over to the table they’d managed to get. It was busy, as he’d predicted, families and couples descending to get dinner at the end of a day spent exploring.
“Wine. You deserve it.” He sat the glass down and gave Abby a smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone climb Windgather as quickly as that before.”
“I’ll probably ache tomorrow.”
“Probably. But the next time you’ll ache less. How about Equilibrium next time?” He mentioned what was England’s arguably hardest trad rock climbing route at Burbage, one he’d never done.
Abby laughed. “Maybe in about six months. I wouldn’t mind London Wall at Gritstone. It’s technical but…”
“You can do it. And I have done that one a few times.” It was harder than the climb they’d done today, which told Alex she was growing in confidence. “We could do it the day after tomorrow. I’ve got four days off then, before Jake’s festival starts.”
The smile was the most relaxed one he’d seen her give since she turned up at his doorstep nearly two days ago, more like the Abby he remembered from the bar.
“Jake’s asked for help getting things set up. He’s got a load of workers ready but I think he’s worried about how they’re supervised.” She sipped at her wine. “That always tastes good after a climb.”
“He’s having a barbecue tomorrow night and you’re invited.” She would’ve been any way, working for both Scott and Sorrell meant that she was considered part of them.
