I dipped my hand into the pool, cool and crisp, and the stress of our strenuous ninety-minute hike was instantly washed away. ‘I don’t understand people here,’ I said, watching the reflection of the trees above me ripple away as I fluttered my fingers under the water. ‘Stunning beaches on one side of town, forests and mountains and waterfalls on the other, and no one bothers with either?’
‘When most people think of LA, they think of Hollywood or Beverly Hills, everywhere that wants to take your money,’ Ren explained. ‘For me, it’s always been about what the city gives away for free. Weirdly, they’re the things no one seems to want to take.’ He crouched down beside me, his knee barely brushing mine, and I didn’t dare move. ‘This is one of the firstplaces my grandpa brought me as soon as I was old enough to keep up with him. He went hiking almost every day.’
‘Oh, I didn’t tell you.’ I took my hand out of the water and pulled away, sitting back on my heels. ‘I met someone who knew him.’
Ren’s face shone in the shade of the clearing. ‘You did? Who?’
‘Her name’s Myrna Moore, she lives in that big old French chateau-looking house at the top of the hill? I dropped off some of her post delivered to Suzanne by mistake and we ended up talking. She mentioned she knew your grandparents. And the people who lived in Suzanne’s house. And at least half of Hollywood by the sounds of it.’
‘That’s wild,’ he said with a wistful smile. ‘He mentioned her sometimes but I never met her. I didn’t know she was still alive, to tell you the truth; I’d love to meet her sometime.’
‘You should make it quick,’ I said. ‘She’s moving soon but I bet she’d love to meet you too. Probably. She doesn’t seem that keen on people.’
‘That would be fantastic.’ He punched me lightly on the arm and laughed. ‘Look at you, playing matchmaker again.’
‘Yes,’ I replied weakly. ‘Look at me. Or don’t, I bet I look like total shit.’
‘Nah, you look great.’ Ren hopped up to his feet, leaving me crouched in a troll-like ball on the floor. ‘It’s not often you get this place to yourself, there’s usually at least a couple of other people here. We should make the most of it.’
‘Shouldn’t we get back?’ I asked, thinking of Bel all alone on the picnic bench. He was supposed to be here with her, I was only the stand-in.
Ren’s response was to peel off his T-shirt and toss it on top of his backpack.
‘I’m sure she won’t mind waiting ten more minutes. You made it all this way, you’ve got to swim.’
Swim?
‘Is it safe?’ I asked as he shucked off his hiking boots.
A nod.
‘Are we allowed?’ I asked as he unfastened his belt.
A shrug.
‘Have you got your trunks?’ I asked as he eased his shorts down around his muscular legs to reveal a pair of tight grey boxer briefs.
He pulled off his thick woollen socks and tossed them in my general direction, missing my face by a matter of centimetres and therefore retaining his life.
‘Come on, live a little,’ Ren said. A challenge. ‘When are you going to get another chance to swim in a deserted waterfall?’
He put one foot in the pool and I saw his whole body shiver, the muscles in his back contracting as he took a theatrically loud deep breath then ducked under the water, only to come back up two seconds later, gasping and grinning.
‘You’re missing out!’ he called, splashing his way into the middle of the pool and diving under the water again, re-emerging with a whoop. ‘This is incredible!’
‘That’s funny because from here it just looks cold,’ I shouted back. ‘I think I’ll stay dry, thanks.’
‘It’s not cold, it’s invigorating. Come on, Phoebe.Either you get in or I’m going to drag you in. Which would you prefer?’
I had to bite my lip to stop myself from asking to be dragged. Jumping into waterfalls wasn’t my sort of thing.
‘I’m going to count to ten,’ he yelled. ‘And then you’re getting in, one way or another.’
‘Why not me?’ I murmured to myself as he started to swim back to shore.
Dipping into the post-hike dregs of my determination, I pulled off my socks and shoes and stripped off my leggings, tiptoeing into the water in my vest and knickers. The shock was instantaneous. Dipping my fingers in was cool and refreshing, but to my hot, tired feet, the water was like ice. Worse than ice, it was so cold it burned. Anyone who paid for cryotherapy was a masochist.
‘Stop thinking about it and do it,’ Ren said when I froze, only in up to my ankles. ‘You gotta dive in!’
