Chapter 55
FIFTY-FIVE
LAUREL
Leaning over my handlebars, I felt my thighs begin to burn as the gradient got steeper.
It was six months since I’d last cycled this route but, despite that, it felt familiar.
Already, I could see the castle ahead. My muscle memory seemed to recall the series of bends in the path, like a child’s drawing of a snake; I even instinctively altered course to avoid a rough area on the surface of the track.
In terms of conditions, it should have felt much easier than last time.
The day was clear – glancing over my shoulder, I was able to appreciate the panorama of valleys and peaks, illuminated by warm sunshine in a blue sky.
The wind was gentle, so staying on course was easy.
It was warm, but not so hot as to present a challenge.
But my body had other ideas. My balance as I stood in the pedals was awkward, my centre of mass not where I expected it to be. My lung capacity felt reduced. A few miles back, I’d had to stop because the toes in my left foot had suddenly been seized by cramp.
Now that the summit was in reach, though, I felt freshly energised.
I could feel the blood surging through me, being taken by my pounding heart to the muscles that needed it.
The balmy air flowed smoothly into my lungs.
My hands felt relaxed and agile, not like frozen lumps of meat as they had last time.
I reached the summit easily, swung out of the saddle and stood taking in the view. Seconds later, Joel joined me. He was wearing the red Lycra top that had been Gray’s.
‘What’s with the burst of speed, Victoria Pendleton? Aren’t you meant to be taking it easy?’
‘Taking what easy?’ I laughed, pulling off my helmet to feel the breeze in my sweaty hair. ‘I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.’
‘There I was thinking you’d want to spend your visit resting up, being brought cups of tea and having your feet massaged,’ he grumbled, unclipping his water bottle and handing it to me.
‘I mean, now you mention it, I wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea and a foot massage. Maybe tomorrow.’
He slipped his arm round my waist, and I leaned into him, the damp heat of his body meeting mine.
Just the same as before, I knew that in the distance, out of sight, my little car was waiting, ready to take me back to London.
But this time – as it had been the past few times I’d visited – it was parked outside Joel’s house, not at an Airbnb.
Just as when he came to London, he now stayed with me, not at the fancy hotels where he’d told me he’d always felt uncomfortable.
It was on the first of those visits, in January, that I’d told him I was pregnant.
‘This is just as weird for me as it’s going to be for you,’ I’d said, sitting across from him at a coffee shop in the Barbican Centre. ‘Whatever you want to do is fine with me. But I felt I should let you know right away.’
He looked at me, puzzled at first and then with dawning understanding. ‘You’re not…?’
I nodded. ‘Sorry. It really wasn’t meant to happen. To be honest, I feel like a right chump. But also…’
His face lit up in a smile. ‘Delighted? Because I am. Or I think I will be, once this has had a chance to sink in.’
‘I mean, you can be as involved as you want to be,’ I gabbled. ‘And if you want a relationship with the baby, that doesn’t mean you have to have one with me. I’ll completely understand if you don’t. It was just the one night – we hardly know each other.’
‘I can think of a really good way to fix that.’ He reached across the table and took my hand. ‘I want to get to know you better, Laurel. I want to be in your life and this child’s life. I think we can try and figure this out.’
And so we’d tried – we were still trying. Between my work and Joel’s, between my commitments in London and his in Cardiff and abroad, we couldn’t spend much time together. But what we could was precious, and it made me happy in ways I thought I’d never experience again after Gray’s death.
I didn’t know whether our relationship would work out.
It was still too new; we were still only beginning to get to know each other.
But I knew that even if it didn’t, I wanted my child to have the things that Joel would be able to give him or her – music, these mountains and valleys, his own intense appreciation of the life he had because Gray had given it to him.
He reached out a hand and caressed my cheek. ‘Shall we go on, or go back?’
‘Oh, let’s go on, this time.’ I smiled up at him, loving the way his eyes mirrored the intense blue of the sky.
Except suddenly, the sky wasn’t blue any more. As if from nowhere, a heavy black cloud had blotted out the sun. A gust of wind felt chilly against my damp skin. Almost immediately, heavy drops of rain began to fall.
‘What the hell is this?’ I asked, laughing.
‘Welcome to Wales,’ he said. ‘When you can see the mountains, it’s going to rain. When you can’t see them, it’s raining.’
‘But I didn’t bring a jacket. It looked glorious when we set off this morning.’
‘Just as well I brought a spare one for you.’
‘You did?’
‘Sure. I’d have told you to bring your own, but then it wouldn’t have rained, and you’d have said…’
‘I’m only pregnant, I’m not going to dissolve.’
‘Exactly.’ We laughed and kissed, the falling rain beginning to soak through my clothes before he enveloped me in a too-large waterproof jacket.
‘Still want to carry on?’ he asked.
‘For sure. KitKat first?’
I offered him one and we ate quickly and hungrily. Then we swung on to our bikes and set off, slowly at first and then faster as the track levelled off, heading onwards and upwards instead of down and back.