Chapter 47
Tilly is drenched through, her hair and eyelashes dripping.
But she’s still running. There are just a couple of miles to go.
The balls of her feet sting with blisters, her legs shake, and her side aches from a stitch that’s been coming and going for the last two miles.
She can’t quite believe she’s almost made it.
As she runs down the sodden paths that lead towards Kensington Palace she pictures the finish line where her family and friend will be waiting.
She pictures Joe stood amongst them, grinning at her and telling her, You did it, Mouse. I knew you could do it.
The thought makes her speed up, an unexpected burst of energy coursing through her. For a second she feels as if she is flying. And then her trainers lose their grip on the rain-soaked path. She stumbles to the ground, her hands crashing on to the gritty tarmac and a pain shooting up her left leg.
‘Tilly!’
Harper is immediately at her side, grabbing on to her shoulders to stop her face from hitting the ground. ‘Let’s get you off the path.’
Together they shuffle away from the flow of runners. Every movement brings a fresh surge of pain up Tilly’s leg, tears stinging her eyes. They sit down on the sodden grass, Tilly stretching her legs out in front of her.
‘Where does it hurt most?’ Harper asks, inspecting Tilly’s hands and carefully picking bits of grit out of her grazed palms.
‘My ankle.’ She reaches a hand to gently touch it. It sears with pain. ‘I think I’ve twisted it.’
‘Oh shit.’ Harper looks around. ‘Stay here and I’ll try and find a medic. I’m sure there’ll be one near.’
Harper goes as if to stand but Tilly grabs hold of her arm.
‘No, please don’t. They’ll probably tell me to stop.’
‘But Tils, you can’t keep going! You’ve hurt yourself. We need to get you looked at.’
Water soaks from the grass through Tilly’s leggings. There’s mud covering her trainers and splashed up her calves. She wraps her arms around her chest, goosebumps beginning to prick up and down her arms now she’s not moving.
‘I was so close. I promised myself I’d do this for Joe.’
Harper shifts closer, their hips and shoulders bumping.
‘You know Joe wouldn’t mind if you didn’t finish. He’d just be so proud of you for trying.’
Tilly wipes the back of her hand over her damp, snotty face.
‘I know you’re probably right. But this felt like one last thing I could do for him. And I wanted to do it for myself too.’
Because at first it had been about Joe, but the more she trained the more she found she actually liked running.
Not all the time. But she likes the feel of the wind in her face, of moving herself forward all by herself.
And she likes the feeling of getting stronger, as if maybe she can handle everything that lies ahead of her, after all.
Harper takes a breath. ‘Do you think you can put any weight on it?’
She tries … and winces as another stab of pain shoots up her leg.
‘Give me your arm,’ Harper says, reaching out for her.
Tilly brushes her off. ‘I can do it myself …’
But as she tries to take another step, she lets out a yelp. Tilly looks at her sister, her face creased with a frown, her little stubby pigtails soaked from the rain. She has paused beside her, a hand outstretched in case Tilly needs it. Tilly takes a breath … then takes hold of her hand.
‘Maybe I do need some help, actually.’
Without saying anything, Harper loops Tilly’s arm around her shoulder, wrapping her other around her sister’s waist.
‘Come on then, let’s finish this race.’
They take a step together, Tilly’s ankle still throbbing. But less painful, now that she isn’t putting her full weight on it.
‘It’s no good. I don’t think I can run.’
‘No one said we had to run. We’re not far off now, we can walk the last bit. You’ll still be finishing a half-marathon.’
Together, they take a step. Then another. As they join the other runners again there’s a rousing cheer from the supporters lining the path.
‘You smell like a wet dog,’ says Harper through pursed lips.
‘So do you.’
‘Next time I run a half-marathon, I’m doing it in the spring.’
‘Next time?’
‘No, you’re right. I’m never doing this again. Only a lunatic would run this far – unless they were being chased by a bear.’
The roar of the spectators grows louder as they drag themselves towards the finish. They are both silent for a moment, their faces lined with the effort of keeping moving.
‘Thank you,’ Tilly says, once they’ve been hobbling along for a while. ‘I really couldn’t do this without you.’
‘You’re welcome …’ There’s a moment’s pause and then, ‘And Tilly, I really am so sorry. For everything. I probably should have said that ages ago. I never should have kept my engagement from you, and I definitely shouldn’t have set up the dating profile.
’ Harper’s voice is strained, not just with the exhaustion of carrying Tilly’s weight.
‘I was an idiot. It’s just that you’ve been so sad and I didn’t know what to do.
I wanted to try and make it better but I realize I only made things worse.
I’ve done everything wrong.’ Harper’s voice cracks.
Tilly places her foot down a little too heavily and winces as pain shoots up her left ankle. Harper pauses, waiting until Tilly is ready to keep going.
Something inside her softens. Now that Harper’s here at her side it hits her just how much she’s missed her.
‘You haven’t done everything wrong,’ she says. ‘You came to Bali with me and took me to Tuscany. You agreed to do this run. And I’m sorry too.’
‘What do you have to be sorry for?’ replies Harper with a strained laugh.
Tilly winces at another jolt of pain and a thought she’s tried to push from her mind.
‘When I thought that you and Raj had broken up … part of me was pleased. I love Raj. I’ve always thought he’s great for you.
But I was … almost glad that you were going through heartbreak too.
I was pleased that I’d get to look after you instead of you having to look after me. What kind of sister does that make me?’
There’s a little pause and then Harper says, ‘A human one?’
‘I am happy for you. Really, I am. You and Raj make a great couple. I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your wedding invite sooner. Of course I’ll be there, if I’m still welcome.’
She turns to look at her sister’s face. Harper has her lips tightly pursed, holding back a smile that blooms suddenly into the real thing.
‘You idiot. I was never going to get married without you there.’
A wall of sound hits them as they pass alongside the red-brick curves of the Royal Albert Hall, crowds lining the street. Flags wave furiously and people whoop and clap.
‘I think we’re nearly there,’ Harper says, puffing with exertion.
‘My ankle really hurts,’ Tilly winces.
‘Just a little bit further, Tils. Let’s do this last bit for Joe.’
Joe keeps running for as long as he can. His routes become shorter, his pace slower.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Tilly asks one morning as he reaches for his trainers, wincing as he does.
‘I want things to feel normal,’ he insists and she nods, lacing up her shoes and swallowing hard.
In a short space of time their lives have shrunk to the size of their flat and the hospital.
Out in the park on their runs, Tilly can breathe again, memories of the latest hospital appointments blown away.
With the breeze in her hair and the sound of Joe’s footsteps thumping doggedly beside her she can almost pretend that everything is OK.
One morning she wakes earlier than him for once, and starts dressing in her running things on autopilot. She already has her trainers on when Joe emerges, shoulders rounded and grey shadows circling his eyes.
‘Are you coming?’ she asks, kissing him on the edge of his jaw.
He slumps down on to the sofa and Tilly isn’t sure she’s ever seen him look so tired.
‘You go,’ he says.
‘That’s OK, I’ll stay here with you.’
Joe shakes his head.
‘Go to the top of the hill and tell me what the view looks like when you get back. I think I’m done.’
His voice is so resigned that it makes Tilly’s heart beat faster. She sinks down on to the sofa beside him, wrapping an arm around him. He can’t be done.
‘When you’re better we’ll go running together again. We’ll run a marathon!’
He turns to her, raising an eyebrow. ‘OK, maybe a half-marathon.’
She forces a smile, wishing that he’ll return it, wishing that he’ll jump up from the sofa with his former Labrador puppy energy and that everything can go back to the way things used to be.
He reaches for her hand, looping his fingers through hers. And then in a quiet voice, still husky from sleep, he says, ‘You do know I’m not going to get better, don’t you, Mouse?’
It’s the final stretch.
Tilly’s legs are wobbling and Harper’s teeth are gritted in silence as she supports Tilly’s weight. Then they hear a voice they recognize rising above the cheers of the crowd.
‘My girls! You can do it, my girls!’
Tilly isn’t sure she’s ever heard her mother shout so loud. Harper hears her too, her pained expression morphing into a grin.
‘Bloody hell, Mum.’
Tilly spots her alongside the rest of their group, gesturing and shouting manically. Raj has acquired a giant foam finger and is waving it in the air. Rachel claps frantically. Tilly’s dad looks like he might be sobbing. But maybe it’s just the rain.
‘Come on, my girls!’ comes another yell. ‘Come on, my bloody brilliant girls.’
And Tilly and Harper look at each other and smile, their mother’s voice in their ears as they stumble together across the finish line.