Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Sunrise hot yoga with bendy Caleb from Cockermouth, or breakfast in bed, propped up on deep pillows, looking out over the fells beneath a cornflower-blue sky in which – yes – just one lonely cloud was floating. Rosie was happy with her decision.
She sighed with pleasure, lifting a weighty silver fork loaded with creamy scrambled egg to her mouth. A full English felt like an appropriate breakfast choice before an ascent.
She smiled as she cut into a sausage, remembering Dale’s quip.
On the bedside drawers was the beer mat with his phone number and message.
Maybe she’d send a text saying how much she was enjoying her first taste of Cumberland sausage.
A thrill rippled through her as she remembered their moment on the terrace.
Damn, but he was hot! She glanced over at the space beside her in the queen-sized bed, imaging his dark curls against the snowy linen.
Giving a little wriggle, she picked up her phone, but as she woke it up, the notification about Reuben’s message appeared again and her smile faded.
I’m totally here for your rebound, Dale had said. But was Dale in fact the sticking plaster she needed, right now?
Gah. Overthinking things, as per. Why couldn’t she just enjoy a fling and move on?
But Rosie was all too aware of her sensitive nature.
And she was especially vulnerable, right now.
What if, over the course of her time here, she developed feelings for the cheeky northern lad?
He was so beguiling, and she had this habit of endowing people she barely knew with imagined backstory to explain their character traits.
It was a writer thing, probably. Perhaps Dale was such a flirt because he was in fact deeply insecure after a loveless childhood, and needed constant validation from women to help him with that?
And when he properly fell in love, and was loved in return, he’d lose the compulsion to flirt, and would be faithful and true?
Was Dale, right now, thinking about her, wondering if long-distance might work?
Stop it! You don’t have time for this. Get up and get reporting!
She put down her knife and fork, took a final gulp of coffee, and headed to the shower.
Rosie tied up her hair in a ponytail, applied barely-there make-up (because Dale), then dressed in her internet-approved walking apparel.
Special socks, as supplied by Hill and Dale, her pink leggings (again, but her only other options were the tartan trousers, or jeans, and the internet said denim wasn’t great for the mountains), a T-shirt and sweatshirt (because layers) and the puffer.
Her boots were still downstairs. She had no waterproofs, but it was a sunny, windless Sunday and the weather looked settled.
Jono was a sensible chap; he wouldn’t risk his drone if that was likely to change.
She put her water bottle in her small daypack, hoping there might be one of Ashley’s special packed lunches to go with it, picked up her fully charged phone and room key. She was ready.
Rosie was pleased to find several wellness ladies in the breakfast room, and they were keen to share what a wonderful time they were having, how well they felt, but most of all how lovely it was to spend time with gal pals away from their busy jobs and the demands of their families.
Rosie resolved to suggest a weekend like this to her own mates, thinking for a moment about how she’d let those friendships slide.
Reuben hadn’t warmed to her closest friend, Milly, whom she’d known since childhood.
Milly was a teacher with two kids; she’d married young, to Tom, also a teacher and obsessed with football.
After driving down to see them in Basingstoke one Sunday, Reuben had made it clear he wouldn’t encourage a reciprocal invitation.
‘Not much common ground there,’ he’d said.
Reuben had got on well with Rosie’s parents, but the only other person in her life he’d had time for was her boss, Amara.
But then, Rosie hadn’t been crazy about Reuben’s friends, either.
Emilia, his best mate’s girlfriend, had mean-girl vibes.
She’d been chummy with Reuben’s ex, and referred to her often, side-eyeing Rosie as she did.
The week they’d recently spent in Courchevel with the couple had been purgatory, and not only because Rosie was shit at skiing.
Milly’s youngest would be three, now. Old enough to manage without her mum for a couple of days. Rosie imagined coming here with her old friend, how much they’d both enjoy that. Maybe Ashley would give them a special deal.
And I’d get to see Dale again.
Ashley was already in the entrance hall, along with the crew. Kayleigh was dabbing at Madison’s face with a sponge, while Veronica briefed Jono yet again on what she was expecting from the shoot, swiping, pointing, and enlarging images on an iPad.
‘Yup, got it, Veronica, I’m good to go.’ He looked down at the two backpacks by his feet. ‘Dale can carry one of these, easy as.’
Rosie collected her boots and sat down on a sofa to put them on.
Veronica took the space beside her and reminded Rosie of the objectives of the shoot.
‘Get some quotes from Madison about how much she loves the gear,’ she said, then added quietly, ‘She’s a pro, so I’m sure she’ll make it work with Dale, in spite of …
Well, hopefully she’ll resist the temptation to push him off a rock. ’
Ah, so Veronica had noticed last night’s goings on.
‘Try and bring at least one of them back alive,’ she said.
‘Where’s Dale?’ Rosie asked Ashley, nonchalantly, as they made their way to the van.
‘We’re picking him up from the shop. I’ve got the gear he’s going to model.’
Jono joined him in the front, and Madison and Rosie sat in the back, their backpacks beside them.
Madison was in silver-grey patterned leggings, and a super-puffy neon-yellow jacket over a turquoise top.
A woolly yellow beanie with a turquoise bobble completed the look, which Rosie found most appealing.
Kayleigh had done a great job with Madison’s makeup, aiming for mountain-healthy and as natural as possible.
Which was not very, but her lips were a neutral shade and her eyelashes lighter, wispier.
‘That’s such a cool jacket,’ Rosie said, as they pulled up outside Hill and Dale.
Madison shook her head. ‘It’s too short. I’m so done with people perving my bum …’ She stopped as Dale emerged from the shop, looking drop-dead gorgeous in jeans and a white T-shirt, bright in the sunlight.
That’s probably not the quote Veronica’s after.
Madison took an enormous pair of sunglasses from her backpack, slipped them on and stared out of the opposite window. ‘Case in point,’ she muttered.
Ashley opened the van’s back door, passing a bag of gear to Dale. ‘With love from Veronica,’ he said.
‘Morning, ladies,’ Dale said, dipping his head in and winking at Rosie. ‘Nice day for it.’
‘Amazing weather – I can hardly believe this is the same place as yesterday!’ she said.
‘Could you two step into the shop while I change?’ said Dale. ‘Ant’s fussing, as per.’ He rolled his lovely eyes.
Madison glanced at Rosie. ‘You go,’ she said, curtly.
Dale shrugged, and smiled at Rosie. ‘Okay – out you hop.’ He held out a hand and squeezed hers as she stepped onto the pavement. ‘They’ve got this so wrong,’ he said in a low voice. ‘It’s you who should be modelling.’
She bit her lip and smiled back, then looked down as Wainwright appeared in front of her, wagging his tail. ‘Oh, hello boy!’ she said, bending down to pat him. ‘I wish you were coming with us today.’
‘He’d love to,’ said Ant, appearing in the doorway. ‘But we have a different fell to tick off his list today.’ He was already kitted out, all in black again. Like the Grim Reaper.
Rosie’s cheeks burned as she remembered Ant spotting her on the terrace last night. Wanting to steer his thoughts away from that, she said, ‘Hey, Ashley’s going to take me up Hell … Hell Crag?’ She pulled a face. ‘What’s it called again?’
‘Ashley’s taking you up Helm Crag?’ he said, looking astonished. ‘Is that a good idea?’ His eyes swept down her clothes.
Everything this man did – every look, word, gesture – felt like a judgement.
‘Ant,’ she said, her hackles rising. ‘Just because my clothes are pink, that doesn’t mean they’re unsuitable. Or that I’ll be shit at walking.’
‘No, I didn’t mean …’ He looked awkward, which was satisfying. ‘Have you got waterproofs?’
‘We’re not climbing it today – we’re going on Tuesday,’ she said. ‘I’m staying up here next week. Today will be like a try-out for me, to see if I’m up to serious fell-walking.’
‘But–’
‘He says we’ll take the beginners’ route. And no, I don’t have waterproofs today because –’ she waved her hand at the sky ‘– it’s not going to change in the next hour and half, right? And even if it does, it’s not–’
‘Come with me,’ Ant interrupted, his tone exasperated.
Sighing, Rosie followed him into the shop and over to a rack of accessories. He unhooked a small square pouch, unzipped it, and in a flash turned it into a rain poncho with a generous hood.
‘You’re a magician!’ said Rosie, forgetting to be annoyed. ‘That’s extremely cool.’
He stuffed it back in its hood-pouch, unhooked another and passed them to her. ‘For you and Madison. Put them in your backpack,’ he said. ‘You’ve got plenty of water?’
‘I have water, yes.’
‘What have you got to eat?’
‘One of Grasmere Heights’ famous packed lunches, I’m hoping.’
‘Hoping?’
‘I haven’t actually asked Ashley.’
He pursed his lips, headed to a dump bin near the till, and scooped up a handful of energy bars. ‘For the crew,’ he said.
‘Hey – thanks,’ she said, stuffing them in the puffer’s generous pockets.
‘Have you got a stick?’ he asked.
‘I’m not a dog.’
At last, that small smile. He selected a spiked walking pole from a stand and showed her how to adjust its length.
‘After all the rain it’ll be slippery up there,’ he said, ‘especially coming down. You’ll find this helps.
’ His eyes dipped to her leggings, and he returned to the accessories, Rosie trailing behind him.
‘Take these waterproof overtrousers too – they weigh nothing. And one last thing,’ he said, picking up a tiny torch from a basket on top of the accessories rack.
‘Oh come on,’ said Rosie, laughing. ‘We’ll be back before teatime, never mind nighttime!’
Ant looked embarrassed. ‘Just take it? Please?’ His earnest eyes met hers, and all at once she was touched. Her heart gave a little squeeze.
There was a chortle behind her. ‘He’s such an old woman,’ said Dale, stylishly dressed in a mustard-coloured rain jacket and teal-blue walking trousers.
He put an arm across her shoulders. ‘She’s in safe hands,’ he said to Ant.
‘If I can manage to keep them to myself, that is. C’mon then, girl – Ashley’s got to drive the wellness ladies to the station and he’s getting antsy about missing the train.
’ He dropped his hand to her waist, gave her a squeeze and ushered her towards the door.
Rosie turned back to Ant. ‘What about paying for all this stuff?’
‘It’s on the house,’ he said. ‘Just talk us up in your piece – and tell your readers about mountain safety. I hope you enjoy the walk. It’s one of my favourites – and Wainwright’s.’
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘You’re very kind, Ant. Have a lovely day with Wainwright.’
He nodded and shut the door behind them.
‘Pay no attention to old worry-pants,’ said Dale, as they climbed into the van. ‘It’s an easy walk, and it’ll be like Manchester Piccadilly up there today.’
‘Ah,’ called Ashley from the front. ‘In fact we’ve been conferring. I suggest you take the path that goes round the back of the fell rather than along Loughrigg Terraces – it’s slightly longer but it should keep you clear of the hordes.’
‘Good plan, Ash,’ said Dale.
‘We can find a quiet spot along it for the main shoot,’ said Jono, ‘and then if there are others on the summit, that shouldn’t matter for the drone footage, as long as they don’t hassle Madison. Maybe we put Rosie in charge of crowd control.’
‘No one’s gonna recognise me dressed like a yellow yeti,’ growled Madison.