by Carmen Reid
Once both babies were back in her arms, Lana was astonished to see that it was 6.30 p.m., it was almost dark outside and, since no one had bothered to come back and help her yet, she was going to have to attempt to feed the babies by herself.
Ed didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried when he saw the blue Land-Rover sitting in the car park at the start of the route he guessed Annie had been taken on.
‘Isn’t that the guide’s car?’ Owen asked. ‘They must still be on the hill.’
‘Well, I think so,’ Ed began carefully, ‘but we don’t know for sure. Someone else might have given them a lift. I keep thinking that your mum is probably in a pub somewhere, drinking a second glass of wine to ease the pain of her blisters.’
Owen gave a tense smile in reply to this.
They got out and went over to look in the car window. Ed could see a few belongings on the back seat: cords, an orange fleece and a pair of shoes. At a guess, these were the clothes the guide had left behind after changing into her Everest outfit. So, probably, they were all still out on their walk … maybe.
Owen and Ed looked at the great brooding hill in front of them. The gloomy grey light was fading fast, a chilly wind was blowing and, although it had stopped raining, there was a cold, damp feeling to the air. Annie was in a raincoat, dress and thin tights. If she was still out here, she would be soaked and completely freezing.
Ed looked at the map he had brought with him. There was a clear 10-mile walk marked around this hill. It was steep in the middle, he noticed.
If they had been out this long, they must surely have passed the mid-point and be heading back by now? But would they have done the loop and be walking home on the north face? Maybe they had decided to give the steep bit a miss and had doubled back, returning once again on the south path?
The thought that something might have happened out there on the steep part, 3 or 4 miles away from here, he didn’t want to dwell on. But it kept pushing its way to the forefront of his mind.
‘What if they’ve had an accident?’ Owen asked. He was clearly not pushing the thought away at all.
‘Owen, we’re going to switch on our torches, take our map and go and have a look for them. OK? Try not to worry,’ Ed added, giving Owen a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. ‘This is your mum we’re talking about. She is the toughest old boot on the planet. I promise.’
Owen didn’t laugh, he just gave Ed another of his tense little smiles.
‘North face,’ Ed decided, mainly because this would take him and Owen to the tricky bit of the walk as quickly as possible. If something had happened, Ed was almost certain it might have happened there.
It was 3 miles or so away. He looked at his watch. If they went at a really brisk pace, they could be there in about forty minutes.
‘Quick march,’ he instructed Owen.
‘Yessir,’ Owen replied.
For about fifteen minutes, they walked quickly, saying very little. Well, Owen said very little; Ed tried to make cheery, light-hearted conversation.
The ground beneath their feet was wet and squelchy and Ed wondered how Annie, in heels, had coped. Every step must have been an effort.
‘No camping or hillwalking since the babies were born, now two walks in one day,’ Ed said to Owen jokily.
‘Hmmm,’ was all the reply that Owen made.
Owen didn’t like the fact that all he could think about was the first hillwalk Ed had taken him on. That had been a soft, rolling strollable hill, just like this one. A big green chunk of hillside with big views out over the landscape just like this one. On that very first walk together, they’d been looking for the place where Owen’s real dad had fallen.
His dead dad.
‘I wonder how Lana’s getting on,’ Ed said next. ‘I just hope it’s not a complete disaster. Imagine if we come back and she’s fed them all …’ Ed trailed off. The jokes just wouldn’t come. He was suddenly feeling choked with anxiety about not just Annie but the babies too. There was so much that Lana could get wrong. What was he thinking? She wasn’t even a safe person to leave two babies with, let alone a capable one.
He looked round at Owen, who was walking a pace or two behind him. He was distraught to see, even in the pale light of his torch, that Owen was struggling not to cry – and failing.
A tear was slipping down his cheek and his face was horribly pale.
‘Owen!’ Ed stopped immediately and put an arm around him. ‘Hey, Owen, try not to worry.’
But it was impossible not to worry. It was also impossible for either of them not to think about how Owen’s father had died.
‘You should at least have got married!’ Owen blurted out angrily. ‘What if Mum’s dead too? You’re not even my real stepdad! They might not let me stay with you and the twins! There was this guy at school and when his mum died, he had to go off and live with some aunt he’d never even met before!’
‘Hey, hey,’ Ed soothed, holding his arm tight around Owen’s shoulders. Ed felt his throat squeeze. It was fear, yes, definitely. What the bloody hell had Annie gone and done now? But it was love too. He absolutely loved Owen, just as much as his own children. ‘I’m your legal guardian,’ he reminded Owen, ‘but just as soon as we find your mum, which will be any moment now, you make sure you tell her that she has to marry me. OK?’
Chapter Forty
Svetlana on the hill:
Purple dress, very wet (Perfect Dress)
Soaked beige raincoat (YSL)
Crocodile slippers (DIY Zagliani)
Diamond rings (husband Harry)
Total est. cost: £25,800
‘This is a terrible song.’
‘Morven, wakey, wakey. We need you to tell us which direction we should be going in!’ Annie tried to sound cheery, but Morven had been sick again and was now far too drowsy for Annie’s liking.
Annie hobbled along in the hiking boots. Her red stilettos had been abandoned somewhere on the hillside along with Svetlana’s Louboutins. The boots were too small and crushed her toes almost as badly as the heels, but she did appreciate their infinitely superior gripping power.
Poor Morven was barefoot, apart from her Prada bandage, as Svetlana had had to use her hiking socks to keep the crocodile DIY moccasins on her feet.
The croc had proved its quality by being a very, very tough bugger to cut. Even if Svetlana had been carrying a needle and thread, the leather would have been impossible to sew. So Svetlana had surrounded her feet with the DIY croc sole, then pulled the socks on top to keep it in place.
Morven was finding it hard to hop now and Annie and Svetlana were dragging her down the hill, her weight a heavy load between them.
‘Come on, Morven,’ Annie encouraged. ‘Is this the path? We’re going downwards. Down is good. I’m sure we’ll be back at the car park soon.’
It was Annie’s small, unspoken fear that in the gloom they would miss the car park and be left wandering around this bloody hillside for the whole night.
She kept telling herself that she was a strong person and she could cope, but she was soaked to the skin, chilled to the bone, and totally exhausted with the walk and the weight of Morven on her shoulders. The cold wind blowing on to her wet hair was giving her a headache of monumental proportions and, worst of all, she was frightened for Morven. She needed to be seen right now by a doctor, or preferably a team of highly trained specialists, who could put her through all the tests and make sure she was going to be OK.
Little flashes of Roddy on life support kept appearing in Annie’s mind, making her so frightened that she just wanted to sit down and cry.
‘I have feeling someone will notice very soon and will come and help us,’ Svetlana said with determination.
Svetlana’s wet hair was clinging to her head, but her make-up was unmoved. Clearly she always applied the waterproof kind, and lashings of it. Whenever Annie glanced over at her and saw the determined chin pointing ahead, the clenched hand with the mega-diamonds powering on, she took cour
age.
Ed knew hills and hillwalking, Annie told herself, he would know they should have been back ages ago. Surely he would do something?
But then there was no mobile phone signal, he might think she was sitting in a pub somewhere celebrating. Just the thought of this brought tears of frustration to the back of Annie’s eyes.
Good grief!
She didn’t want to feel sorry for herself, she wanted to pull herself together. ‘I think we should sing,’ she suggested out loud.
‘Ya. What songs you know?’ Svetlana asked.
For a moment, Annie’s mind was blank, and then she realized there was a tune which she had been humming in her head all day long, despite her best efforts to forget it.
Taking a deep breath, she began to blurt out: ‘ “We’re all going on a summer holiday, no more working for a week or two …”’
When she had finished a verse of it, Svetlana’s verdict was harsh.
‘This is a terrible song,’ she declared. ‘I will sing Ukrainian song for you now. Will be much better.’
She was so competitive, it occurred to Annie. It didn’t matter what the arena was – best outfit, slimmest waist, richest husband, brightest child – Svetlana always wanted to come first. Now here she was on a mountain in the dark in this horrible situation and she wanted to sing the best song.
Svetlana began to belt out some marching anthem in her native tongue. It sounded great; she had a beautiful voice – was there no end to her talents? – and best of all it seemed to rally Morven a little.
‘We must be getting close,’ Annie encouraged the guide. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘My foot is killing me.’
‘I know how you feel,’ Annie couldn’t help agreeing.
Svetlana finished the song. Annie gave a little cheer, then decided to sing a fresh round of ‘Summer Holiday’ again, in the hope of jollying Morven along a little.
She was just reaching the end of the chorus when she thought she saw it. Just the merest flicker, but still – and there it was again.
She was still singing, but her mind was on this little flicker of light.
She was screwing up her eyes to concentrate on it. She didn’t want to lose it.
Maybe it was a car headlight, way in the distance; maybe someone was in the car park looking for them?
If that was a headlight in the car park, they didn’t have far to go.
But maybe it was a cottage window?
She didn’t like that thought so much. If that tiny dot was a cottage window, they were still a mile or two away from it. Every step was making her wince and she had been wondering for some time how much further she could go.
For several moments, Annie wasn’t sure whether to mention the light or not, she didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up too soon, but then Svetlana blurted out: ‘I see a light.’
‘Yes,’ Annie agreed. ‘I think I see it too. It’s still small and far away, but it is a light, isn’t it?’
‘We need to be careful,’ Morven told them in a faint voice. ‘Parts of the hill drop away really steeply into the valley down here. We need to go very carefully.’
‘Is it a house?’ Svetlana wondered.
Morven shook her head. ‘No one lives round here,’ she told them.
‘Maybe a car?’ Annie offered. But she could see now that it was only one very small flickering light. Not car headlamps.
It was still a good thing though. Light meant there was someone there … didn’t it?
‘I thought I heard something!’ Owen said all of a sudden. ‘Shhhh,’ he ordered Ed. ‘I’m sure I heard something.’
They both stood still and strained their ears to listen.
Apart from the sound of the wind – or the mountains breathing, as Ed liked to call it – they couldn’t hear anything.
‘What did it sound like?’ Ed asked.
‘Ermmm …’ Owen considered. ‘I thought it sounded a bit like … ermmm …’
‘What?’ Ed asked in exasperation.
‘All right, I just thought it sounded like someone was singing the Summer Holiday song – you know. I’ve probably just got it in my head. I was singing it in the car,’ Owen tried to explain. He was feeling stupid. Everything about this was annoying him, especially the fact that he’d burst into tears. Even if Ed had been really nice about it, he still felt embarrassed.
‘Annie!’ Ed was saying more to himself than out loud or to Owen. ‘Maybe it’s Annie, maybe she can’t get that bloody song out of her head either! ANNIE!’ he suddenly shouted without warning at the very top of his voice, ‘ANNIE!’
‘There’s someone there!’ Annie exclaimed, sure now that she had heard something coming from the direction of the light.
‘Yes!’ Morven agreed. ‘I heard something too.’
‘Hello!’ Annie shouted and felt a renewed surge of energy help her on down the hill towards the light.
‘We are here!’ Svetlana shouted, also managing to pick up the pace in her Zagliani slippers.
‘I think it’s a torch!’ Annie exclaimed as the flickering light seemed to turn in their direction. ‘I think someone’s down there with a torch! HELLOOOO!’ she shouted out, causing her head to throb violently.
It must be one of the mountain guides. Finally, someone must have noticed that Morven was missing!
But then Annie heard something which made her heart thud in her chest with joy.
First came the voice she knew so well calling out her name. Ed was here! He had come to look for them! He was going to help them get Morven off the mountainside.
Then came the second voice, the one which was questioning and a little anxious: ‘Muuum?’ it asked.
Owen! she thought with a ridiculously happy smile. Owen’s come to get us too.
‘We’re up here!’ she shouted, hoping to speed them up, desperate to see them as soon as possible.
Now the light of the torch was growing closer and clearer; now she could make out the two shapes behind it: one taller, the other a little smaller, following on behind.
‘Ed!’ she shouted. ‘Owen! I can’t believe you’ve come to get us! I can’t believe you’re here.’
‘Whoa!’ Morven urged as she felt herself being carried slightly too enthusiastically downhill. ‘Whoa, there are steep stone slopes round here. I don’t want to fall again.’
Within a few brief minutes, Annie was somehow, without letting go of Morven, in a bear hug. Two sets of arms were around her and she felt as if she was in danger of having the life squeezed out of her.
‘My darlin’s,’ she managed to croak, feeling tears of relief squeeze from the corners of her eyes. ‘It’s very nice to see you.’
Finally, she could feel Owen’s smaller, slighter arms letting go of her, but Ed was still holding tight. It felt as if he didn’t want to lose his grip on her.
‘Of all your ideas,’ he was saying against her ear, ‘of all your daft and crazy ideas, this was the most daft and crazy of them all. I am not going to let you go …’
Ed had thought he was going to say ‘hillwalking’ or ‘rushing off on another daft adventure’. But instead, he ended the sentence there.
‘I’m not ever going to let you go …’ he repeated and that sounded exactly right.
Then Owen remembered what Ed had told him and came out with his own version of it: ‘Ed said once we found you, Mum, that he was going to marry you. Gretna Green,’ he added, ‘I noticed we passed it on the way up from London. It’s like Las Vegas. You can just turn up there and get married. Just like Las Vegas.’
Svetlana gave a little whoop of approval. ‘I be bridesmaid,’ she decided straightaway. ‘Maybe Morven too … We get Morven nice dress. Shame about the foot, but we cut off in the pictures.’
Chapter Forty-One
Owen on the hill:
Waterproof anorak (Trespass)
Waterproof trousers (same)
Hiking boots (Timberland)
Torch (Tiso’s)
Swiss Army k
nife (same)
Total est. cost: £120
‘See you, Mum.’
The babies had eaten the vegetable goo and the yoghurt goo. The babies had each had their bottle of milk. The babies had been played with extensively, exhaustively, until Lana didn’t think she wanted to do another ‘Round and round the garden’ ever again. For as long as she lived.
It was fun though. It was actually lovely to make them laugh at her. But Lana was exhausted. She wanted to lie down on the sofa and watch TV until she fell asleep. This babysitting stint had felt like almost as much work as trying to read her way through The Romantic Poets from cover to cover.
Lana was beginning to get just a tiny inkling of why her mum and Ed were so busy and so preoccupied with their twins.
Surely someone should be back soon? Lana had to wonder. Surely they weren’t going to leave her to bath the babies and put them to bed? She didn’t know if she could do it. She imagined slippery, soapy babies sliding around the bathtub as she fumbled about for towels, sleep suits and whatever else they might need.
She’d already endured the horror of changing the post supper nappies. How could such small people produce such an enormous amount of waste product? And all at the same time? It had been unbearable, a nightmarish experience. At certain points, when wipes had not been able to contain the situation, when she’d felt stuff ooze in behind her fingernail, she’d not been sure if she would be able to pull through. But somehow she’d managed to focus and find her inner strength and afterwards, it was amazing how clean, how fresh and renewed the babies seemed.
It felt as if they were grateful to her. Well, it just couldn’t in any way be pleasant, crawling about with some great, warm, steaming, stinging dump strapped to your bottom.
‘Please, somebody, come home soon,’ Lana said out loud. She was flat out on the sofa now, the babies on top of her, gurgling, pulling at her hair and, in one instance, drooling right into her eye.
For a few minutes, it crossed Lana’s mind to worry but she dismissed the anxiety quickly. No, her family was probably hiding out somewhere warm, laughing at the thought of her coping with the twins.
