A bittersweet thought popped into my head.
God, Mum would have loved this.
The familiar sensation followed, as it always did when I thought of my mum – nose burning and eyes stinging.Then an image of her dark brown hair and the smell of her perfume.The memory of her face was blurry now, as if someone had placed a drop of water on a photograph and it had rippled the ink.I wanted to scream at someone, anyone who was responsible for taking her likeness away from me.It was all I had left.
‘Ren?’
Lydia’s voice sounded beside me, soothing like a hot bath.I turned to see her adjusting her ponytail with a confused expression on her face.For a moment I decided to forget that she hated me, and just take her in as she was now.Lydia was angles and sharp edges – lean, quick, built for movement.Her dirty-blonde hair was scraped back into a ponytail, though a few loose strands had escaped on the hike up, framing her face in a way that made her look a little windswept.
Lydia had a narrow face and a strong jawline that brought out the elegance of her neck.Her features were softened by a button nose and full lips that could crack open into a beautiful, wide smile if you were lucky.A faint dusting of freckles stretched across her cheeks and forehead, the kind that only showed up in the summer when she spent more time outside.When she smiled, her slightly pointed canines peeked through, giving her grin an edge of mischief.Her eyes were my favourite: bright blue and searching.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked again.
It took me a moment to respond, as if talking about Mum was a muscle I hadn’t used in years.
‘Just thinking Mum would have liked this.’ I nodded to the view.
A shadow of a smile graced Lydia’s face, and I could have collapsed at the sight of it.God, I was pathetic.
‘She would have.’ She nodded.‘She would have been a step ahead of everyone else, though.’
I frowned.‘What do you mean?’
She tilted her head slightly, as if trying to make sense of something ridiculous.
‘Ren, she worked out, like, all the time.Almost every day, and she had young kids.She loved tennis and badminton and netball.I reckon she could have given me a run for my money with the weightlifting.’
I racked my brain for this memory and came up with nothing.
‘How… how do you know that?We were six when she—’
Lydia nodded, not making me repeat the word she knew I hated.
‘Mum offered to watch you and Liam if she wanted to squeeze a workout in.Then, when we were a bit older, Lilytriedto get Mum to see the joys of fitness.’ Lydia huffed.‘Tried.Mum hated it.But I suppose it stuck with me somehow.Someone new and fresh, bringing in these new passions.She took me to Momentum for the first time.When I was a kid.A kid’s taster to tennis.I loved it, even though I was shit.’ She huffed.‘And then I guess it grew from there.’
I frowned.‘You mean that Mum…’ I paused, not able to continue with what I was saying.
‘She’s the reason I became a PT,’ Lydia concluded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
‘You never told me that.How have you never told me that?’ I bit down the annoyance rising through my cheeks.
Lydia’s eyes scanned me, her brow furrowing.‘Sorry.It didn’t seem important at the time.And I didn’t want to imply I had some big connection with your mum when I really just thought she was cool.I didn’t want to be a try-hard.’
‘You’re never a try-hard.I would like to have known.’
We paused for a second, staring at the horizon.
‘I like it,’ I announced.‘That she might have influenced you or your career.’
Lydia smiled.‘Yeah, me too.’ She stared up at the sky.‘But it would be good if you could get me a bleeding job now, Lily.’
‘Yeah, Mum.Any time now would be good.’
We chuckled and then, as if she was watching us, a cloud broke away from the sun, sending a huge golden beam across the landscape before us.My eyes burned, but there was a lovely, bubbly feeling in my chest.
‘Thanks.It’s nice to talk about her.With someone who knew her.’
Lydia nodded, a guarded expression back on her face.
