drifting in from the sea. All that effort to get up here, Kirsty thought with a wry smile, and we’re just racing down now.
Bob showed her how to do things on the way down, how to half-turn and slide on loose scree, like she used to do on ice slides in the school playground. How to move quickly with confidence and not to worry about the possibility, the probability even, of falling.
‘If you worry about it, you will fall,’ he told her. ‘Just get on with it. And if you are going to fall, relax and pick yourself up again afterwards. It won’t be the end of the world.’
‘It’s all right you saying that,’ she said with a laugh. ‘You’re not the one who’s likely to fall, are you?’
‘I’ve done plenty of it,’ he assured her. ‘It’s nothing to be scared about. You’ll likely just get mucky hands and a wet bottom.’
She laughed again. She couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t the sort of advice she would ever have got from Craig.
‘It’s like driving,’ Bob added. ‘When you go out in your car, you don’t worry all the time that you might crash, do you? If you did, you wouldn’t be able to drive at all. You’d never get started.
‘And in the mountains you don’t worry you might fall. You’d never leave the valley if you did. It’s the same thing.’
‘Yes, Bob!’ she said with a grin. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
She wasn’t convinced but she could see his point. So she got on with it, as he suggested. If she fell, she decided, she would just have to deal with it when it happened.
And that was what she did. She did fall, of course. Once or twice she slipped on loose stones. But it was no big deal, she discovered. She just picked herself up again and got on with it. Exactly as Bob was doing, she realised with a wry smile as she saw him dusting himself off after a slip. He wasn’t infallible.
Trying to move with more confidence didn’t prevent leg muscles she hadn’t known she possessed complaining, though, and by the time they reached the valley floor again she felt like a seasoned mountaineer. Weary, aching, muddy – and satisfied and happy.
‘It’s a hot shower for me now,’ she announced as they approached Fells Inn. ‘But in a couple of hours I’m sure I’ll be hungry again. Perhaps we could meet up for a meal together?’
Bob seemed to spend a few moments thinking it over. Then he nodded. ‘Sounds good to me,’ he agreed. ‘Seven OK with you?’
She smiled through her fatigue and promised herself a glass of white wine to celebrate her achievements today : reaching the summit of Goat Fell and making Bob laugh. Quite a day.
Chapter Eleven
He was in a strange mood that evening. She sensed it immediately. Pleasant, open, more at ease. Something had changed, possibly for the better.
He stood up as she approached and pulled out a chair for her.
‘Thank you.’ She sat down and then slumped in exaggerated fashion. ‘Are you as weary as me, Bob, after today?’
‘You get used to it,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I’ve been up there more times than I’ve had hot dinners.’
‘How often do you come here?’
He looked at her and shrugged. ‘Quite often, I suppose. No pattern, though. Just when I feel like it. I’m self-employed. So I can please myself.’
She left it there. But she realised now what the difference was. He was talking more easily about himself. Perhaps because he was more used to her. But she felt it would still be best to take it easy, and avoid seeming to interrogate him about how he lived.
Carol appeared with their meals. If she thought it surprising they were sitting together, nothing in her face said so.
‘Cumbrian sausage,’ Carol said, placing Bob’s plate before him, ‘and chicken curry for you, Madam.’
‘Is it hot?’ Kirsty asked.
‘It might be,’ Carol advised cautiously. ‘Chef isn’t in a good mood.’
But it was fine. Very nice. Just right after a day in the hills.
‘The food here is always pretty
Bob showed her how to do things on the way down, how to half-turn and slide on loose scree, like she used to do on ice slides in the school playground. How to move quickly with confidence and not to worry about the possibility, the probability even, of falling.
‘If you worry about it, you will fall,’ he told her. ‘Just get on with it. And if you are going to fall, relax and pick yourself up again afterwards. It won’t be the end of the world.’
‘It’s all right you saying that,’ she said with a laugh. ‘You’re not the one who’s likely to fall, are you?’
‘I’ve done plenty of it,’ he assured her. ‘It’s nothing to be scared about. You’ll likely just get mucky hands and a wet bottom.’
She laughed again. She couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t the sort of advice she would ever have got from Craig.
‘It’s like driving,’ Bob added. ‘When you go out in your car, you don’t worry all the time that you might crash, do you? If you did, you wouldn’t be able to drive at all. You’d never get started.
‘And in the mountains you don’t worry you might fall. You’d never leave the valley if you did. It’s the same thing.’
‘Yes, Bob!’ she said with a grin. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
She wasn’t convinced but she could see his point. So she got on with it, as he suggested. If she fell, she decided, she would just have to deal with it when it happened.
And that was what she did. She did fall, of course. Once or twice she slipped on loose stones. But it was no big deal, she discovered. She just picked herself up again and got on with it. Exactly as Bob was doing, she realised with a wry smile as she saw him dusting himself off after a slip. He wasn’t infallible.
Trying to move with more confidence didn’t prevent leg muscles she hadn’t known she possessed complaining, though, and by the time they reached the valley floor again she felt like a seasoned mountaineer. Weary, aching, muddy – and satisfied and happy.
‘It’s a hot shower for me now,’ she announced as they approached Fells Inn. ‘But in a couple of hours I’m sure I’ll be hungry again. Perhaps we could meet up for a meal together?’
Bob seemed to spend a few moments thinking it over. Then he nodded. ‘Sounds good to me,’ he agreed. ‘Seven OK with you?’
She smiled through her fatigue and promised herself a glass of white wine to celebrate her achievements today : reaching the summit of Goat Fell and making Bob laugh. Quite a day.
Chapter Eleven
He was in a strange mood that evening. She sensed it immediately. Pleasant, open, more at ease. Something had changed, possibly for the better.
He stood up as she approached and pulled out a chair for her.
‘Thank you.’ She sat down and then slumped in exaggerated fashion. ‘Are you as weary as me, Bob, after today?’
‘You get used to it,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I’ve been up there more times than I’ve had hot dinners.’
‘How often do you come here?’
He looked at her and shrugged. ‘Quite often, I suppose. No pattern, though. Just when I feel like it. I’m self-employed. So I can please myself.’
She left it there. But she realised now what the difference was. He was talking more easily about himself. Perhaps because he was more used to her. But she felt it would still be best to take it easy, and avoid seeming to interrogate him about how he lived.
Carol appeared with their meals. If she thought it surprising they were sitting together, nothing in her face said so.
‘Cumbrian sausage,’ Carol said, placing Bob’s plate before him, ‘and chicken curry for you, Madam.’
‘Is it hot?’ Kirsty asked.
‘It might be,’ Carol advised cautiously. ‘Chef isn’t in a good mood.’
But it was fine. Very nice. Just right after a day in the hills.
‘The food here is always pretty
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