We pass a few other walkers on their way back from the waterfall, but we’re the only people starting out at this time of day. The path is everything I remember and more, and you only need to be out here for five minutes to see why it comes so highly recommended in all the Yorkshire Dales guidebooks.
Narrow trails carved through ancient woodland, mossy verges full of daisies and yellow pimpernel, following the curve of a fast-flowing river that winds its way between water-smoothed rocks. The trees are in full summer swing, creating a canopy of greenery that filters the early-evening sunlight and creates patterns that dance on the ground.
Reece walks beside me, close enough that our shoulders brush when the path narrows and I’m constantly aware of his presence. When we come to a log blocking the way, he takes my hand to help me over it, and instead of letting go, his fingers lace through mine as we continue walking, and I’m breathless in a way that has nothing to do with the exertion.
We follow the river endlessly. The sun drops lower in the sky, and I try to ignore how fast my pulse is beating at his touch, and how nice it feels to simply walk hand-in-hand, for no reason other than hewantsto touch me.
The incline of the path gets steeper. The river runs downhill now, across weirs and shallow rapids and around curved corners. It even seems like the trees get taller and the evening sun gets softer as we get closer to the waterfall, and the sound of rushing water grows louder with each step until finally, Thimblenouth Force itself comes into view, and you can see why waterfalls are known as forces up here.
A perfect surge of water, cascading magnificently down a rocky thirty-foot-high cliff face and into a pool so clear that I can see every pebble on the bottom. The low sun reflects off the water’s surface, creating a refraction rainbow that’s so striking, it takes my breath away.
‘It’s beautiful.’ I barely dare to breathe, and the hand I’m inexplicably still holding squeezes mine. I remember being here before. Its splendour was lost on me as a youngster, but now I appreciate it for the majestic spectacle of nature that it is. No wonder our little car park is so busy.
‘Do you remember the local legend?’ Reece has to shout to be heard over the rush of water.
I’ve heard bits and bobs from walkers, but not enough to know the full story.
When I shake my head, he obliges. ‘Local folklore says you’re supposed to pick up a stone and tell it all your problems, and then cast it into the pool and let the water wash away your troubles.’
I almost laugh. ‘I don’t think any stone wants to hear my problems.’
He steps down onto a small rocky beach, keeps hold of my hand as I follow him. Our hands only drop when he bends down to select a medium-sized stone and hands it to me. ‘Try it. The past couple of months haven’t been easy for you. See if the water can help.’
I take the smooth stone and look at it dubiously. My main problem now is the constant worry that someone is going to recognise the campervan as a stolen vehicle, or tell me I can’t continue to operate there without producing documentation to prove I own it. I don’t think any stone can help with that.
At the same time, it’s easy to get lost in how much I love this place and forget what led me here to begin with. ‘It’s not okay that my ex cheated on me,’ I say hesitantly to the stone, and Reece nods in encouragement. ‘It’s not okay that I was so invested in the life we were building together that I didn’t see how distanced we’d become. It’s not okay that the person I thought was my best friend cheated on me either. It’s not okay that I trusted both of them.’
I rub the stone under my fingers. This is surprisingly therapeutic.
The words pour out of me, all the anger and hurt I’ve been carrying for weeks. By the time I finish, I’m breathing hard and my eyes are stinging with tears I didn’t expect.
‘It’snotokay,’ Reece agrees gently.
‘Although it kind ofis, because it led me here, and here is…’
I trail off when I meet Reece’s bright eyes. He’s got his lip clenched between his teeth, and his breathing has sped up, and before I realise what’s happening, his hands cover mine on the stone and he leans down to kiss me. It’s the tiniest peck, not on my lips but right beside them, just skimming the edge.
His mouth is burning hot, his barely-there stubble grazes against my skin and my knees threaten to buckle. My eyes have closed, and if I wasn’t holding a heavy stone that’s likely to fall onto my own toes, I’d drop it and grab onto him and ensure henevermoves.
Unfortunately he does move, and when he stands back upright and pulls away, I feel more oxygen-deprived than if we’d had a long snog, and the spark between us feels like I’d get a shock of static electricity if I touched him.
His eyes glint, like he’s silentlydaringme to have ever had a more perfect kiss than that, even though it wasn’t really a kiss at all.
‘…exactly where I was meant to be.’ I finish the sentence, even though it feels like hours have passed since I began it. My voice is as unsteady as my legs feel, in a way that hasnothingto do with the rocks we’re standing on.
He laughs too, sounding unbalanced and nervous, and like he’s not entirely sure he should’ve done that, which sums up my feelings too. Unbalanced, nervous and not entirely sure he should’ve done that.
I take a deep breath and step around him, thank the stone for listening and then use both hands to throw it into the water. It lands with a satisfying splash and stirs up river silt as it sinks to the bottom, ready to wash away everything I told it, and I can’t help wondering if we should let the water wash away that kiss too.
This feels likesomethingwith Reece, and yet, I know there are things he isn’t telling me. It might not be in a sinister way like Jared, but I can’t get into anythingwith another man who isn’t being honest.
‘Who knew that shouting at stones and lobbing them into waterfalls could be so cathartic?’ I bend down to pick up a small stone and hand it to him. ‘Your turn.’
‘Mine?’ He takes the stone with a look of surprise. ‘I don’t have any problems to share with the waterfall.’
‘You don’t?’ I raise an eyebrow, even though my face is still burning red, both from the kiss and from how desperate I am for him to reveal somethingreal.
‘Well, I…’ He looks between the stone in his hands and the water bursting over the cliff face, and I watch expectantly as he thinks it over, curious about what secrets he’ll finally share. What’s the real story behind his abrupt career change, what really happened in his marriage, and who is the boy in the photos? Maybe the real reason he’s renovating the pub, or why he sometimes looks so sad when he’s not actively trying to be happy… This is finally the moment he’s going to let it all out. Come on, Reece. Trust me enough to tell me who you are.
