‘Why can’t we just tell people the truth?’
‘What, so everyone can look at me differently? No thanks.’
‘Why would people look at you differently?’
‘They might think I’m trying to social climb.’ I couldn’t bear for anyone to put me in the same league as my parents.
He lets out a laugh. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Deadly. You might think you’re their friend, but there’s a balance of power there that puts you on a different level. Like it or not, you’re not equal to them, not in the way I am. Right now, they respect me for being a worker just like they are. I hate the thought of them knowing that I’m your bit of rough from the old days.’
His mouth drops open. ‘Excuse me?’ He’s staring at me disbelievingly.
‘Well, I am, aren’t I?’
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
He’s outraged, bordering on furious.
‘Don’t tell me that they’d understand,’ I say crossly, feeling chastised by the look on his face and becoming defensive instead of backtracking – I am my father’s child. ‘They wouldn’t! They’d think I’m getting ideas above my station. I’m your gardener – an employee. Beca’s on your level – they all think you two are a match made in heaven.’
‘That’sbullshit,’ he snaps, aggressively zipping up his rucksack.
‘No,you’retalking bullshit. Youarea match made in heaven.’
He scowls at me and then rakes his hand through his hair and stares across the lake, his back and shoulders tense. I don’t know why I’m pushing his buttons like this, but I can’t seem to help it.
He sighs and turns to look at me. ‘Beca wouldneverdo this. She would never get on the back of my bike and go for a ride. She would never camp out under the stars. She avoids the workshop, she hates the cabin, she doesn’t like it when I talk with a Welsh accent. She never gets her hands dirty. She would never go swimming in cold water. She doesn’t like picnics – she doesn’t see the point. She would neverin a million yearsgo interrailing and slum it in youth hostels.’
He’s already said that he feels disloyal talking about Beca to me, so I know that he doesn’t want to lay it all out on the line like this. It feels as if he’s committing to something by doing so.
‘Beca will always be important to me and I won’t give up trying to win back her friendship. We gave it a shot – it felt like the right time to do that – but I’ve been ignoring a niggling feeling in my gut for months. She’s notmadefor me, Ellie. Please trust me on that.’
I want to, I really do, but as we ride through the Berwyn Mountains, skirting glittering lakes and waterfalls, I can’t help but remember thatI’mnot made for him either.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
We’re standing in the middle of a towering arched stone bridge that carries the Llangollen Canal across the River Dee, far in the valley below. I’m staring with incredulity as a barge glides right by us, followed by a couple of canoes full of people. I have never seen anything like this in my life: the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct is literally a stream in the sky.
‘This was probably Taran’s favourite place in the whole world,’ Ash confides, turning his back on the canal and sitting down.
He tugs off his boots and slides his feet between the railings that protect pedestrians from the long drop down to the river below. A couple of people walk past on the footpath behind us, but he casually pats the space beside him, so I sit down and do the same, letting my legs dangle off the side of the bridge. Just as well I don’t suffer from vertigo.
‘I reckon he would have ended up being a structural engineer if he’d lived,’ he adds. ‘He loved it up here, but he loved it down there even more.’ He nods at the river. ‘We used to go swimming and float on our backs, looking up at this giant structure.’
‘Swim in more rivers,’ I say.
‘Hey?’
‘Taran’s words, what he said to you just before he died. If he’d known how little time he had, he would have swum in more rivers.’
‘Stayed up late more often to watch the stars, cherished the sound of the rain on the roof and the birdsong in the woods,’ Ash finishes softly, repeating what he told me all those years ago.
‘Yes.’ My eyes prick with tears as I stare down at the wide green river stretched out below us in the valley. ‘I thought of those words when I was gearing up to leave Knap, along with what you said to me on the platform: ‘Follow your own path. Life is too short not to do what you love. You and I know that better than most.’
‘I’m sorry for everything you’ve had to go through to get here, but I’m so proud of you for chasing your dreams,’ he says huskily, reaching across to squeeze my shoulder.
‘It kills me that you can’t do the same.’
