Chapter Thirteen
Thirteen
We followed the crowd along the shingle path, which was virtually flat and easily walkable – nothing like my recollections of Snowdon.
The views were already fabulous and presumably would look identical from the peak – everything would just be smaller and further away.
Was it really worth all the effort to get to the very top?
Leo spritzed himself with sun cream and the coconut reminded me of the pool party Abi had taken me and Sara to in LA.
So many fit men – and women, annoyingly – but the men…
the LA lifestyle was strict but worth it – for them, obviously, not me.
Say what you like about plastic surgery, but everyone looked picture-perfect – if a little surprised.
Leo lifted his T-shirt to wipe his brow and I got another glimpse of his abs, which he must have drawn on with eyeliner. How was he working in London full-time and maintaining a six-pack? It didn’t make sense.
He offered up the sun cream and I slathered myself, gratefully.
I’d been shadow-hopping behind a tall, wide man, but I didn’t like to get too close and the sun was grilling the back of my neck.
I shouldn’t even be in this blazing heat – I should be drinking bellinis under a large umbrella with Bryce whispering reassuring nothings in my ear.
We walked up the mountain without even realising it, but my glutes started to twinge as we reached the highest point and I pushed to keep up with Leo. Mind over matter, Kat. That’s all this was.
‘Selfie to prove we made it?’ he said, holding up his phone. I was red as a beetroot with my cap stuck to my head, like wee Jimmy Krankie, as I smiled for the camera.
‘Easier than I thought it would be.’
‘And quick,’ Leo said, checking his watch, already keen for the next challenge. ‘I don’t see how we can run downhill through all these people, though; we need a different kind of race.’
We were in the middle of a walkathon crowd, with all the keenos pushing behind us to get to the peak, and hundreds of slow plodders in front of us on the trek back down. Neither direction could be any kind of a race – unless we were snails.
‘Let’s just say you won,’ I said. Not that there was anyone to announce it to. PR News were unlikely to run the story. ‘I’m happy for you to take the glory.’
We rounded a corner and Leo stopped with a smile. ‘Now, that’s what I’m talking about.’ I followed his gaze up to the sky, where a packed gondola was steadily making its way over to a second volcanic crater. ‘What do you think?’
I shrugged. ‘Sure. Show me how we race each other in that.’
‘The racing part is on the other side,’ he said, his eyes full of fire. ‘Volcano boarding.’
Ah. Had I accidentally agreed to something sporty? ‘And what exactly is that?’
‘Surfing down the side of the volcano on a plank of wood.’
I gulped. ‘That sounds terrifying.’
‘We can do the scree sliding instead if you’d rather? The beginner’s version. Where you go down on your feet. You can walk it, but it’s quicker to slide and the stones hold your weight as you go.’
I nodded, glad there was an easier way.
We followed the signs, then our fellow sliders, until we reached the giant cable car, and wedged ourselves in next to a family of four. There must have been a hundred of us in the lift, each person stood straight and still; like one among many in a box of matches.
‘Hold on kids,’ their dad yelled, and the two boys screamed in delight as we took off into the sky.
‘I’d love to be that excited,’ Leo whispered, standing far too close, but with no other option.
His body shielded me from the rest of the group, and it felt like I had my own personal bodyguard travelling next to me.
My breathing slowed to match his and I tried to look anywhere but in his eyes as we juddered along.
‘Are you not living the ecstatic life you’d hoped?’
He shook his head and pretended to look sad. ‘I try and smile once a week, but other than that I’m dead inside.’
I laughed. ‘I can see. It must be hard being so rich and successful.’
He raised one of his perfectly arched brows. ‘You think I’m successful?’
‘Yes. Aren’t you? Did Forbes get it wrong?’
‘Oh… that.’ He shrugged. ‘I spent weeks on that application but I think it was the CEO promotion that clinched it.’
‘Sounds like success to me.’
‘And as for being rich. Two words. Ex. Wife.’
‘That’s one word,’ I said, looking at his Ferrosi climbing gear and struggling to feel sorry for him. The aviators holding back his twinkling bouffant were Hugo Boss and looked brand new.
‘OK, clever. My ex-wife.’
‘Are you having to cope with three million instead of six?’
‘I wish. She pretty much cleaned me out.’ His smile faltered and his eyes turned dark.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,’ I mumbled.
I was saved from putting my foot in my mouth any further by the cable car shuddering to a stop.
The midday sun was now roasting hot, and I could feel my skin burning as we took in the view of the Azores scattered across the ocean.
The volcanic crater below us was vast. Tiny people stood around like ants on the edges, and those who had made it down were now nothing more than dots.
Beyond the crumbly rocks were green edges full of pink flowers, and piles of white villas heaped together like sugar cubes on the edge of turquoise waters.
The Azores were truly breathtaking. Waves were breaking out in the distance, giving the cerulean seas an occasional sliver of white, as speedboats zipped back and forth.
I slipped my sarong over my shoulders and put my cap on to shade my face.
‘Ahh! I’d forgotten you were a fellow red,’ Leo said, waggling my cap in an overly familiar way.
‘Of course. Bootle born and bred. Are you a Liverpool fan too?’
‘Till I die,’ he replied, lifting his sleeve to reveal a tiny liver bird.
‘Snap,’ I said, pulling my precious liver bird pendant out from under my top. ‘I assumed you’d be Man City or United.’
‘Nah. Gran used to take me and my brothers to Anfield when we were kids.’
‘How many brothers have you got?’ I asked, in thick Scouse. ‘Your poor old gran with all youse men!’
‘Two. Oscar and Max. The three of us still go to the match whenever we can and take Gran if she’s up to it. She loves to swing her scarf and give the referee a piece of her mind.’
‘I haven’t been for years – I miss it,’ I said wistfully. ‘Can’t beat a good old singalong at Anfield.’ Some of my best memories had been made in that football ground. ‘Right then – better get down this volcano hadn’t we? I’ll set an alarm, so we don’t lose track of time.’
‘Me too. We’ve got two hours before we need to be back on the boat.’
We synchronised Apple Watches like a pair of PR nerds, then walked past a woman in freshly ironed camel shorts bellowing into a loudspeaker: ‘The cable car down is to your right. Steps for hiking are to your left. Surfers go straight ahead!’
‘It shouldn’t take more than an hour to get down, should it?’ I said, peering over the side. Having a bit of junk in my trunk was going to be a distinct advantage here, as well as all those early morning bus rides balancing my bags and laptop, with no spare hands to hold on.
I took a photo of the view, zooming out to show the sheer size and depth of the crater and the volcanic rock in all its glory.
Lava stones in different shades of black and grey, peppered with spicy reds, leading down to the milky green lake at its centre.
I noticed Heidi had added to her stories and was sat with Zach and Brooke on a rooftop cabana, about to tuck into an enormous paella.
The three of them were holding up smoky, pink cocktails with an animated arrow pointing to the Esmeralda in the distance.
It looked lush. And here were Leo and I, about to plunge to our deaths.
I followed him to the top of the volcanic surfing section and peered over. Too late for fear.
‘Ready?’ Leo asked.
I nodded and dropped straight over the edge without hesitation to get a head start. However scared I felt, my overwhelming urge was to win.
‘Last one down buys the drinks,’ I shouted over my shoulder as I slid into the volcanic shale.
It was like skidding down a sand dune and I tried to slide while watching the others to pick up tips.
The kids were flying along, completely fearless, leaning back and going for it.
I was stopping and starting in a panic, pulling up whenever I went too fast, scared I might never stop.
Leo hooned past, using his huge flipper feet like a skateboard.
‘You went too early!’ he called, as he whizzed past. ‘That’s a disqualification.’
‘You don’t make the rules.’
I had no choice but to go, go, go. Leaning back and sliding as fast as I could, ignoring my screaming glutes.
I was gaining on him, but then he somehow sped up even further.
He narrowly missed colliding with an elderly couple who were shuffling down the middle of the mountain, then fell on his face. Hahaaa!
I sprayed tiny stones at his back as I thundered by, my dress putting me at a slight disadvantage and ruining my aerodynamics.
I felt a rush as the base of the volcano came into view and there was still no sign of Leo.
I was a woman on a mission and nothing was going to get in my way – super-surfer Kat Brennan, going for gold.