‘How’s he going to manage that after stuffing yourself with cheese?’ someone yelled, their head between their knees for a hamstring stretch.
‘Fireman’s lift?’ Bronwyn purred, flicking her hair at Nathan. ‘Cradling me like a knight bearing a fair maiden to safety, or a groom sweeping his bride across the threshold, I’m not fussy.’
‘I don’t even like cheese, Nathan,’ someone else said. ‘If I get tired, will you carry me?’
And so it went on, Nathan studiously ignoring the catcalls and the borderline harassment as he led us through the rest of the warm-up, while I pretended my irritation was down to moral decency and respect for my friend-slash-coach, not possessiveness and jealousy because even if I wanted to ask Nathan to ‘sniff my new non-cheesy body spray’, I couldn’t. And I wouldn’t, because unlike most of the women safe to hoot and holler at him, I probably would collapse for real if he leant in to catch a whiff.
‘Right, let’s take it steady now, we’re doing an extra 3K today, so pace yourselves. Especially those of you who consider Christmas a good time to fuel your body with toxic waste and then stew in it. And for those of you who seem to have forgotten the Health and Safety policy, if anyone collapses, then the designated First Aid Officer will secure a safe means by which to evacuate them to the nearest appropriate medical facility. If they are unable to walk, then this will be via a stretcher, or ambulance if necessary.’
Nathan’s face was a mask. I had no idea if he was playing along with us or not. Then he turned to me, and for the briefest of moments his eyes crinkled up as they held mine. A rush of warmth swooped up my chest and neck, catching my heart and sending it spinning.
It was a tough run, up and down and through the forest in the freezing early morning, warily skimming the horizon for signs of sunrise while also attempting to avoid tripping over a root or a stray bramble. But the hardest part of that hour was trying to stop the grin from splitting my face in two every time I remembered that crinkle.
It’s okay to enjoy a private joke,I told myself, even my thoughts huffing with exertion.It’s been a really long time since I had fun with people, and it’s perfectly normal given the circumstances that it would feel as though the moon had reached down from heaven and wrapped its soft, strong arms around me…
Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Amy.
* * *
At what my thighs reckoned was probably around the twenty-six-mile mark, but my new watch insisted was only 7.5K, we were still nowhere close to Brooksby. My wavering anxiety, kept at bay by the memory of a crinkle, began to stir. A thick line of bleached-blue now crowned the field to the east, as we shuffled along the edge of the woods, and the winter stars were fading one by one, swallowed up into the dawn. I knew this was coming. I had prepared for it. Was ready. But what I was ready for was to sprint down the hill, along the road into the village, with every ounce of my being fixed on the sanctuary of home. Lost on a hilltop in the wilds of Sherwood Forest was not how I had planned to do this.
To give my anxiety even more of a boost, up ahead people appeared to have decided this was a good point to take a rest. Half a kilometre before the finish line.
It was now light enough that I saw it, several metres before I reached them.
A silhouette of camping chairs, stretching along the brow of the hill. A table, behind them all, with two huge flasks and an array of breakfast food. I lumbered up to where Marjory, one damp curl on her forehead, was slicing up a pineapple.
‘Stretches, people,’ Nathan ordered the stragglers.
I ignored him. ‘What is this?’
‘Looks like breakfast to me,’ Bronwyn said, helping herself to a yoghurt.
‘The café’s closed today, Chris and Gill are away.’ Nathan watched me carefully.
‘Did everyone else know about it?’ I asked, my voice managing to span a good couple of octaves in one sentence.
He shook his head, before turning to where the other Larks were crowding like pigeons round the table. ‘I know some of you have pressing commitments this morning, feel free to grab a snack and then go. It’s a fifteen-minute walk if you follow the fence back through the wood. But, for the rest of you, feel free to stay and support Amy in her next challenge.’
‘What?’ someone asked. ‘How is a picnic breakfast a challenge?’
‘Oh, do be quiet,’ Selena retorted. ‘Honestly, some people notice nothing any more unless it pops up as a notification on their phone.’
‘Some people might say that’s better than being a nosy cow,’ Dani said, smiling sweetly before taking a sip of tea from a cardboard cup.
‘Some other people, and by that I mean me, think we should stop bickering and start considering Amy’s feelings.’ Mel pointed at me, which was about the last thing my feelings wanted right then. I felt as though a grenade of stress hormones had exploded in my chest, blurring my vision and sending my head reeling.
‘Where do you want to sit, Ames?’ Bronwyn asked. ‘You plonk yourself down and I’ll bring you a cuppa.’
Um, on my own sofa at home? Buried under my duvet?
‘Stretches first,’ Nathan said, as if he’d never held my hand as I flailed about on the street like a dying haddock.
How dare he do this without asking me first? How dare he expose my worst fears in front of these women I respected? How dare he keep pushing and prodding me forwards when I’m not ready, as if trying to prove that I’m incapable of deciding these things for myself?
I somehow resisted the urge to stretch so effectively my fist connected with his face, even as he stepped closer, head bending towards mine.
‘You’re ready for this. Studies prove that by tackling your fears with a supportive community of trusted people around you—’
