‘Sounds like one hell of a grand gesture, Ren,’ Liam said slowly.
‘Or a way of getting yourself chopped up into little pieces and buried in the woods,’ Jack grinned, shrugging.‘But yeah.Let’s go with grand gesture.’
‘You’re serious?You think this is a good idea?’
Liam lifted an eyebrow.‘Have you got anything better?Are you going to keep moping around for the rest of your life?Or are you going to try and win her back?’
For the first time since I came back to Everly Heath – and saw Lydia’s cold, distant expression – something stirred in my chest.
Win her back.
I repeated the words in my head, turning them over.Vignettes juddered to life, like an old cinema reel.Lydia on a trail, the sun turning her hair golden.A backpack strapped to her, that wide smile breaking across her face as she turned to find me behind her.
The feeling grew so much that I could finally put a name to it.
Hope.
Chapter Six
Lydia’s Diary, Nine Years Old
Dear Diary,
I pushed Liam over today in the garden.He was arguing with Ren about something, and then he called me Ren’s little girlfriend – but in a mean way.Ren went all pink and looked upset, and I got SO angry.
So I pushed him.
He stumbled back, and I really wanted him to fall in the grass – but he’s 12, and I’m only 9, so I don’t think I was strong enough.
One day, though.
One day, I’ll be big enough to beat him up properly.
Love,
Lydia.
Lydia
The knock on the motel door came at 6.30 in the morning.
‘Coming!’ I mumbled around my hair bobble, shoving my hair into a high ponytail.
Not my best work, but I was late.Last night, the group of us arrived at the Peak Inn, and Mandy, the hike leader, introduced us.The inn was a bustling pub, with low beam ceilings, deer antlers, and locals sipping pints of dark ale.The group of us – eight women in total – were staying in the cosy rooms above the pub.Some had to share but, luckily, I’d bagged a single room with a little, log-burning stove.Blue and green plaid cushions and curtains gave it a cosy, worn-in look.Once we’d checked in and dropped our bags in our rooms, we went downstairs for a pub dinner and introduced ourselves to the rest of the group.
Unsurprisingly, Claire, Gen, Amy, and I made up a big chunk of the group.Mandy was in her forties, with shoulder-length, dark brown hair and an athletic build that said she hosted hiking trips for a living.Then there was Amara, an environmentalist who had recently accepted a job in conservation at the Peak District National Park.She was short and slim, with a soft-spoken voice.She seemed a bit shy to me, but also the type that would love to quietly observe every detail of the trail.Jade and Clara were the only couple on the hike, so they arrived together.Jade had deep-brown skin, wild curls, and a camera slung over her shoulder.She was a freelance photographer, Mandy told us excitedly, as she was always looking for more photos of the trips.Her partner, Freya, was tall and composed.She spoke with a soft German accent, had poker-straight blonde hair and a calm demeanour, which made sense when she shared that she was a psychologist.
We ate and drank and, despite Mandy’s warnings to get an early night, I stayed up too late with Amy and Gen, the three of us a little giddy, as if our parents had let us have a sleepover.Claire had headed to bed with the rest of the crew, much too sensible to stay up with us.
While I wasn’t hungover this morning, I couldn’t deny that my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, and there was a light throb at my temples that said I was almost 30 and really shouldn’t be surprised I got a hangover after four pints of lager.
I shoved open my creaky hotel door to find Claire, a massive backpack on her shoulders, and her short grey hair perfectly blow-dried.
‘You ready, love?’
‘Yes, yes.Coming.’ I headed back into the room and hastily threw my thermal sweater over my head.
‘Oh, I don’t think you’ll need that,’ Claire said, her mothering tone coming through.‘It rained last night, but the sun is coming through this morning.Spring is in the air.’
