‘So cool,’ Drew said as they passed the pristine tennis court all on its own. It was as if it had positioned itself purely to take in the view all day every day, whether or not anyone came by for a game.
‘Do you play?’ Taylor asked.
‘Yeah. Love it. You?’
‘No. Say Drew – is there anything youcan’tdo?’
For the next two miles Drew considered this. He really thought about it. He thought about it so hard, so determinedly, that Taylor had forgotten he’d even asked the question when Drew finally answered.
‘Can’t seem to get a girlfriend,’ Drew said. ‘Not a nice one, anyway.’
This surprised Taylor but he felt tired and he didn’t want to talk just then. So they just kept running.
‘I swear there’s something in my shoe.’
‘You need to stop?’
‘No.’
‘Hey Taylor – Sean Connery or Daniel Craig?’
‘Connery every day of the week.’
‘He’s Scottish, right?’
‘Right.’
‘Margot Robbie or Megan Fox?’
‘I hate you.’
‘Sure you do but choose you must.’
‘Jeesh, Yoda – this road keeps going and going.’
Then, from behind them, just when they needed it most, there came a chorus of car horns. A small red car first, tooting merrily as it hared along, followed by an ancient Land Rover parping as it chugged passed, driven by an ancient woman with a dog on her lap yapping its little heart out. And then Dougie’s car pulled alongside, slowing right down so that he and JB could urge them on for a few yards before they headed away and the road turned sharply and they were all gone from view. It was eerily quiet for a while before Drew and Taylor tuned in to the rhythmic pounding of their two sets of feet. Finally they reached the long curving descent to Bunavoneader.
Fluid supplies good. Still three gels each.
The Eagle Observatory.
The tall redbrick chimney of the early twentieth century whaling station.
Thirteen miles done.
Neither of them wanted to sayhalf wayout loud.
‘A station for whales and a bus stop for sheep,’ Taylor said instead. Both seemed perfectly logical just then.
Up ahead, they could see the junction with the main road where they’d turn right for Tarbert. Wait –what?Was that JB and Dougie andpeople? Yes it was! They had formed a line across the road, stopping the traffic, cheering all the while. What a lift! Sprint for the spectators! As they tracked right, they glanced at the road they’d run. Somewhere, over those hills, half a marathon away, was the beach at Hushinish. It belonged to a different day. Currently, its beauty was being enjoyed by just one couple and their dog who had no idea of its significance to three twenty-three year olds from the United States.
At the filling station at Ardhasaig, a driver stood by the pump and waved while someone else ran out from the shop to hand Taylor and Drew a packet each of sweet Tablet which he’d thoughtfully opened. He told them they could fly to the moon and back on it.
‘Does this surface feel different?’
‘Like, sticky?’
‘Drew, I swear my knee?—’
