“Ewan!” Priya dances over to him and wraps her small arms around his waist. “You’re back.”
“Got someone to look at your ankle then?” Lila asks with crossed arms, eying him up and down.
“That’s right. I had some time on the bus to think yesterday and the thing is… I don’t want to give up. Maybe I can comeback, maybe I can do this next year, or the year after, and maybe none of it matters – and, yeah, Caleb’s already dead so it’s not like he gives a shit. But, I dunno, putting stuff off is how I got here, how I got lumped with this fucking rock of guilt, and maybe I don’t want to feel like that anymore? Ah, fuck, I told myself I wasn’t going to fucking cry, didn’t I?” Ewan tries to lift the arm holding his crutch to wipe his face and over-balances, only small Priya there to stop him from listing like a tree.
“Tissue?” Lila hands him a packet. “Swap you for a crutch?”
“Yeah, thanks,” he says, taking one and dabbing his eyes. “Bollocks. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that you lot are alright. And if I’m going to do this stupid walk then I’d rather do it with people I don’t entirely despise – even if most of you are old as sin and have weird ideas about food.”
I struggle not to lift an eyebrow. “Is there meant to be a compliment hidden in there?”
“Oh, I know what this is. Negging! That’s it! I’ve heard it’s all the rage with the youth,” Lila quips.
“Mum!” Priya complains as Ewan groans. “Don’t say ‘youth’ – it’s so lame.”
“What would you rather I say? Teenybopper? Whippersnapper? Bruh?”
“MUM!”
“To think I went to A&E for this,” Ewan adds. “Maybe I am better off going solo.”
“That’s my line,” I grumble. “I’m the one who wants to be alone.”
“So whyareyou here then, old man?”
It’s a great question, and one I’m asking myself.
“Neither of you are doing this alone,” Lila chimes in. “Angus, stop making empty threats. You obviously like walking with us. No one believes the grumpy hiker routine anymore.”
“Plus, he wants to be close to his girlfriend,” Ewan adds with a smirk. “Where is she, anyway?”
“None of your bloody business.”
But even as I say it, I see his eyes widen, and I know that this precise, unfortunate moment, is when Rowan has decided to leave my tent.
“Ewan!” she calls over. “You’re here! Are you walking with us today?”
“Her tent got a leak,” I snap.
“Did it now?” He nods slowly, eyes flicking between us. “And you had to take her in, did you? I suppose her sleeping bag is too wet to use, is it?”
I deign to dignify that with a response. I need to pack up. I turn away as Rowan bounds over.
“Gosh, it’s a beautiful day, isn’t it? And I think my feet only have one more blister than yesterday!” She lands besides me, spritely as anything. “Are we doing this then? Last day! Ewan?”
When Ewan replies, I’m the one he’s looking at.
“Oh, yeah. I’m in. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Chapter Twenty
Rowan
Despite Ewan’s new – and amazingly colourful – crutches, he’s still the slowest walker in the group, and within half an hour he’s cursing like a sailor, bothered by the heat, by the pain, by the slowness of his pace. None of it helped by the terrain, which is another steady climb, as we leave Kinlochleven behind and start the long journey across the Highlands to Fort William – and Ben Nevis, in whose shadow we’ll end the walk.
Angus’ mood is similarly dour. He’s fallen back into brooding, his brows drawn low as he tramps down the path, hunched under his bag like a beetle. A veritable rain cloud follows him despite the brightness of the day, and whenever he looks at me, the cloud seems to grow heavier.
Last night, we kissed, and this morning I woke wrapped in his arms. For a few, blissful moments I let myself enjoy it. That heavenly feeling of being half-asleep, warm and protected. It felt different than it did with Ethan. More intimate, more connected, even though we hardly know each other.
