Maybe this hiking lark isn’t quite as easy as I thought.
Ahead looms a fell, gloomy in the dramatic shadow of the cloud, and behind me the pale green carpet of grass falls away, drawing my eye down to the beck we crossed, which now seems small and insignificant.
It literally takes my breath away. I wobble, feeling slightly dizzy as I look down. Boy, we really are high up. Once I get used to it and stabilise, I pull out my mobile and take a few photos, turning in a circle to take in the view in all directions.
I can see why people do this. Walk. Get addicted to it.
Behind me is the forbidding fell, to my right the dark stillness of a lake nestling between the cleft of mountains as though they are cradling it. Caring for it.
Nature looking after itself.
In all directions, every hue of brown and gold from tawny orange to russet, of grey and steel, every shade of green binding them all together as it runs from freshness to burned ochre. And above the brightest purest of blue, bumping into the whites, greys and black of clouds and emerging pale and watered down on the other side.
I can see for miles.
I really do feel like I’m on top of the world. Alone. But not lonely alone, free-alone.
There is the cry of a bird and I look up and laugh. I spin around to glance back at the path ahead, its steep, treacherous surface scarred with the rocks and stones that hold it together. It snakes around the jagged broken edge of the hillside ahead, disappearing from view, tempting me on.
Bella does a little play bow as though to say, ‘Come on’, wagging her tail furiously.
‘Okay Bella.’
She scampers ahead, barking, and disappears around the corner.
That corner is a corner too far.
One minute I am thinking it might be a tad steep, but doable. The next I’m on a narrow path clinging to the side of a mountain with a steep drop on one side, the wind is blowing a gale and I’m staggering like a drunkard chucked out at closing time.
I am going to die. I can’t breathe and my legs are all wobbly and heavy. I might have been a tiny bit over-ambitious. I also now realise that Georgina’s walking guide has likely been written by either a sadist, fitness freak, or possibly ex-Royal Marine. Not by a girl who spends most of her time building an Instagram platform around her dog.
My lungs are empty.
If I sweat any more, I will be a mere dehydrated husk of myself.
It is so bloody steep my muscles are trembling like I’ve run a marathon – well, how I imagine they’d feel if I ran a marathon, the furthest I’ve run is to the bus stop.
My heel hurts, I think I’m getting a blister.
Okay, facing the facts here: I’m more an ambling kind of girl, than a walking one, but I just felt like I needed a challenge. I felt that some strenuous exercise would clear my head and give me the answer to all my problems. You know, highlight some brilliant plan I’d completely missed, or just create a miracle. And I really did want to do this walk before it’s time for me to leave Lake View Cottage, and that time is approaching scarily fast. Even faster now I’ve discovered that I could soon be penniless and homeless if I lose the work with Ben.
I have to do this though. I have to get to the top. This is my metaphorical mountain to climb, before I have to face the real-world one. If I don’t do this, I am doomed. If I make it, if I meet the challenge and win, then it is a sign.
Boy, this is harder than my bootcamp session with Ash was. Harder than our walk. And Ash was proud of me. I can’t let him down, or myself. One way or another I can do this.
Would it look bad if I crawl the rest of the way? I mean, it’s the doing it that counts, not the how, isn’t it?
It can’t be much further, can it?
I round the next corner and dare to glance up, while clinging to the tufts of grass with one hand. I’m not keen on heights – well, only if I’m behind glass, or maybe if there’s an extremely sturdy handrail. Here I am exposed. Totally.
Oh hell. I am not there yet; the path goes up even more steeply if that is possible. Have they never heard of steps in this part of the world?
Or escalators.
I’ve gone off the great outdoors.
It is hard work and scary.
Maybe if I imagine that Ash is here, just ahead, holding out his hand to help me.
Yeah, that helps. His strong grip, strong arms, strong thighs… no, maybe not. This is taking me to an altogether different place.
A sheep bleats and I close my eyes.
A lamb can do this, a dog can do this, Bella was practically scampering, so surely a grown woman can?
It is then, sitting on my bum, trying not to look down that I realise I’ve not seen her for a while.
‘Bella?’ She bounded ahead of me. I’d expected to see her when I rounded the corner, all wagging tail and bounce before she took off again.
‘Bella!’ I yell loudly. My words disappear into the vastness.
Complete silence apart from the odd baa of a sheep, and a bird flying over.
This is weird. She never goes far. She’s always waited for me to catch up. She even put off diving in the beck until I was on the bridge and gave her the okay.
A tiny, hard lump forms in my chest. It’s silly. I’m being daft. I’m just tired, yeah that’s it, tired and overreacting. No need to panic, she’s only been out of sight for a few minutes. ‘Come on Bella, come and see what I’ve got! Crisps!’ What if she’s fallen? They have disused mines on these hills. I know they do, I read about them online. There were warnings about not letting your dogs near them.
Stop Becky, take a breath. You checked. There is no mine here. None.
But there will be rabbit holes, and badger setts, and well, just holes. Massive holes. Steep cliffs.
She’s got no sense, Ash said. She’d jump off a cliff if you let her.
Oh God, what have I done? Why didn’t I keep her on her lead?
I yell again, and again until my throat is hoarse. Dry and raspy.
There’s an emptiness in my stomach and my pulse pounding my ears.
If I keep going higher, what if she’s gone down? But if I go down, I’ll forget exactly where I last saw her.
I scramble down on my bum, sending shale in all directions, to where the path widens, and look upwards, cupping my hands round my mouth to try and magnify my shout. But it’s hopeless. The vast space swallows up my feeble voice.
That lovely vast nothingness is now scarily big and empty. I’m alone, miles from anywhere. Nobody in sight. I haven’t seen a soul for the last half an hour. Only sheep.
What do I tell Georgina? She’ll kill me! And Ash, oh my God, Ash will be devastated if I’ve lost her. I know he will.
I’m supposed to be keeping her safe. I had one job, just one job.
She means everything to Ash. Why has it taken so long for me to realise that to Georgina she’s just a bargaining tool, an asset, a life she’s hanging on to? But Ash loves her with all his heart.
I am even more panicky now. I mustn’t overreact. It will be fine. I’ll find her. I have to.
‘Everything okay?’
I jump and slip on the loose stones at the sound of a voice. Somebody puts a hand on my elbow and steadies me.
‘Becky?’ It is David, looking worried.
‘I’ve lost Bella, I can’t find Bella!’
‘Hang on, hang on, she’ll be around somewhere, I’m sure. I’ll help you call her.’ He pats my shoulder. ‘She won’t have gone far, probably chased a rabbit, the little tinker. How long since you saw her?’
‘Not long.’ I feel a bit stupid now. ‘Just since I was around that corner, but she never goes far.’
‘No, no, I know. But once they get a scent, whoosh, they’re gone, and when they stop, they haven’t a clue which direction they came from.’
‘Really?’ I feel slightly reassured. I was being silly.
‘Certainly.’ He smiles. ‘She’s probably carried on pottering the wrong way and can’t h
ear you. The wind up here doesn’t help. Let’s try this.’ He digs into one pocket and pulls out a whistle.
It’s piercing.
She has to have heard that.
I hold my breath, expecting a black fluffy dog to bound into view, waiting to tell her that she’s naughty but I love her.
She doesn’t appear.
He whistles again. And again.
The sudden lightness of hope I’d felt in my chest disappears and I’m scared. Something terrible has happened to her.
‘Let’s walk on a bit and try again.’
We try again, and again, and again.
Each time the expectation is less, and the weight of the let-down is heavier.
She’s not coming back.
Even David’s smile is more strained.
It’s harder to speak, harder to walk. We plod on in silence. My legs feel leaden, but I can’t stop pushing David to try one more time.
The sun has gone in, the clouds that were so cotton-wool cute are now threatening.
I feel cold, and I don’t know whether it’s the weather, or dread.
‘Well, she must have really lost her bearings, not like little Bella to stay away from food.’ The optimism that’s been in his voice from the start has been replaced with concern.
‘Oh God, I know.’ I feel even worse when David says that. I want to bawl. I wipe my forearm across my eyes.
‘Time to call out the cavalry, I think, and go and get you something to eat. You look terrible.’
I feel terrible. Losing Bella is about more than just letting people down, I love her. And it feels like I’ve lost far more. Bella has helped me confront my issues, helped me believe in myself. Helped me be me. ‘But we can’t stop, what if—’
‘You’ll be no good to her if you keel over,’ he says gently. ‘She’s tougher than you are, she’ll be fine.’ He gives me a quick hug that makes me want to sob like a baby and fishes out his mobile phone. ‘No signal, but I know where there is.’
I look at my own phone. I haven’t got any kind of signal either.
‘Come on.’ He motions down the path. ‘It’s fine when we get from under the shadow of these peaks.’
‘Who are you ringing?’ I scramble after him, my feet slipping and sliding, while he strides on, looking at his phone, as though this is a walk in the park.
I feel so hopeless and pathetic but moving faster (and downhill) somehow makes me feel slightly more positive. I think it’s the adrenalin, the change in direction.
‘Search and Mountain Rescue.’
I’m so shocked, my feet forget to move, then I have to hurry after him to catch up again. I’ve got visions of helicopters, search lights, people in hiking boots.
Which makes me think of… ‘Ash!’ I didn’t mean to shout his name out.
‘Exactly.’ David glances back reassuringly. ‘He’s one of their best dog handlers.’
‘Oh.’ I feel a bit faint again. ‘I didn’t mean, I didn’t know he was… I just thought he’d be able to help.’ It was the image of a capable man, and big hiking boots that had made me think of the obvious. Bella would come to Ash. Ash is her favourite person in the whole world, and even if he’s not exactly talking to me right now, it doesn’t matter – she needs him. ‘He does search and rescue?’
‘Yep.’ He gives me a quizzical look. ‘I thought you knew; he’s part of the team, it fits in well alongside his guided walks and orienteering work.’
‘Sorry.’ I’m slightly breathless as I hurry after him. ‘I just thought she’d come to him.’
David grinds to a halt, and I nearly slip into him, taking us both down.
He neatly sidesteps with a hand out to steady me, then holds his phone up. ‘Reception! Wonderful. I’ll call.’
There is no answer, so David leaves a message. Then he glances back at the mountains and shakes his head.
‘What?’
‘You need to get home, and I’ll go and see if he’s at his place.’
‘But, but… I can’t go down, I can’t leave her up here on her own!’ This is so, so much worse than if Ash had stolen her. I wish he had. At least I’d know she was safe.
‘Weather’s changing.’
‘But the forecast…’ My voice tails off. I had checked before we set off, it was supposed to be okay, I’m sure it was.
‘I can feel it, the rain is coming in. That’s what happens here I’m afraid, catches folk out.’ He shrugs. ‘You get back and grab yourself a torch and a decent coat. It’ll go cold up here and if you freeze to death you aren’t helping anybody, are you?’
‘But—’
‘No, Becky. People get hurt up there, and no offence, but you’re not exactly a hardened walker, are you?’
I shake my head, and he pats my shoulder.
‘You get sorted, and I’ll see you back here in an hour. Okay?’
I can feel my face crumpling, but I try and nod with confidence. David squeezes my shoulder, and the kindness brings the rush of sadness brimming over. I turn away so that he doesn’t see.
‘Sure,’ I shout back as I stumble away. ‘Thanks for helping me.’
‘Least I can do.’ When I glance back, he’s striding away up the beck with a measured pace. ‘Oh and grab a spare collar in case she’s lost hers, happens a lot!’
What was I thinking? I’ve been living a complete fantasy since I got here, dreaming of a different career, imagining I was the type of person who could look after a dog and go hiking up the peaks. Without even checking the flaming weather forecast properly.
I can’t trust my own judgement.
I’ve fucked up my career, and I’ve lost Bella, and right now, the thought of that is making me feel ill.
I start to jog, my thighs burning, heart pounding as though it wants to burst out of my chest, my calves tight with every step.
What have I done?
Chapter Twenty-One
‘What?’ For a moment I think I must be completely losing my mind. I stare at the hooks. Bella’s spare harness has gone.
I rummage in the baskets and drawers where Georgina keeps her coats and toys, throwing things in all directions.
Then I tip the contents out completely and push them to the side one item at a time.
Just to be sure.
The harness is missing, and so is the long lead that I’ve taken her out on when I was worried about losing her. Or having her dog-napped.
My stomach hollows out. Oh my God. It can’t be. Ash can’t have come and taken them. This can’t be his grand plan to steal Bella. He wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t steal her away off the hills and leave me in a panic. He’s not that cruel, I know he’s not.
Her favourite squeaky ball isn’t there.
I’d have seen him on the fells. I would. And he didn’t even know we were going there; I didn’t know until about five minutes before we set off.
There has to be a sensible explanation.
I feel like bursting into tears, the lump in my throat is stopping me from breathing and my whole head feels like it’s going to burst.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out, still sorting through Bella’s stuff. One last check.
‘Becky.’
‘Ash!’ My legs feel strangely wobbly and I sink down onto the cold tiled floor. ‘Where is she, what ha—’
‘Where’ve you been? I’ve been calling.’ There’s an edge to his voice. ‘Where are you?’
I gulp. ‘My phone was on mute. I’m at home, I mean the cottage. I came back for Bella’s harness and—’
‘I’ve got it.’ Relief whooshes out of me. He has been here. ‘I came to get some of her stuff in case…’ There’s a painful silence.
The dread returns. ‘You’ve not got her?’
‘No.’ The one word is flat. ‘I got a message from David, I’m on my way out there.’
‘David made me come back to get a jacket and torch, and spare collar.’ I quell the sob that rises up in my throat. ‘I’m coming back. Oh God, Ash,
what if…’
‘Shh.’ His voice is soothing. I can tell he’s worried, but he’s being nice. He’ll blame me later. I’ll blame me. ‘I’ve got Sam with me; don’t panic, he’ll track her down if she’s up there.’
‘But what if—’
‘She’s smart, Becky. I’m sure she’s fine.’
I look out of the window and it has started to rain. With the heavy drops there’s a darkness that makes me shiver. Every trace of blue sky has disappeared behind the heavy veil of clouds, the quiet stillness of the lake is pockmarked with angry punctuation, and along the shore it swirls and churns as anxiously as my stomach.
Poor little Bella will be drenched and bedraggled. She loves water, but she hates rain. She’ll be cold and think I’ve abandoned her.
I grab my jacket and tug the hood up, then take the car keys from the tray by the front door. I’m going to drive into the village and park at the start of the footpath to save time – and because I feel so knackered. I’ve been running on adrenalin, but now that I’ve taken a few minutes to stop and collect stuff from the cottage, I’ve lost all my impetus. I just want to cry now.
Which is pathetic.
The narrow lanes are already awash with water running in streams down the sides, and my boots splash in the puddles when I get out and start to make my way up the gently sloping rough track.
Ash is there, a soggy Sam at his side, his tail and ears bedraggled and dripping. He’s got a red jacket on, the same as Ash.
Ash lets him smell Bella’s favourite toy and then gives the word, and he’s off. He zigzags his way up the path, his tail going, his nose down. ‘He’ll bark if he finds her,’ is all Ash says, before setting off after Sam.
I want to say I’m sorry, I want to say so many things, but this isn’t the right time.
We’re soon at the point where the path narrows and turns before rising steeply. ‘Wait here.’
The Dog Sitter: The new feel-good romantic comedy of 2021 from the bestselling author of The Wedding Date! Page 24
