Chapter 25
Belinda had printed off all their literature at work and laid it out on a stall just inside the entrance.
When Aria rocked up, she was pleased with the spread of information.
She was less happy to see the Castle Enterprises logo splashed all over the signage, yet another attempt by Nic to buy his way into their world.
Did he ever sleep? She was looking forward to standing at the stall later, talking about the Lakeland issues, and, if he showed his face, she would shove a leaflet at him before putting him out of his misery about his offer.
But for now, her priority was registering.
She’d thought long and hard about whether to swim today.
It felt hypocritical, given her public stance about lake toxins.
But the organisers would have tested the water thoroughly to ensure it was clean enough to enter, and she’d missed out on the last two.
She was doing this for Dad. She shook off her worries as she entered the tent where swimmers registered before they proceeded to the changing rooms.
To Aria’s delight, Sophie had swapped her officious cashier role for a sneering sports official and was sorting someone out with their badge.
‘Take a look on the desk for your envelope. They’re all in alphabetical order.
It contains your bracelet and a hot drink voucher.
The shower block is in front of the tent and the event will be preceded by a group warm-up.
Have a nice day and please don’t drown on my watch.
’ After her speech, Sophie picked up her phone to doom-scroll, leaving them to wander off.
As she approached, Aria scanned the crowd for Nic and came up short.
Reaching the table, she grinned at her friend, who gave her a high-five.
‘When does your shift end? Want to have a drink with me after the swim?’
Sophie shrugged. ‘I get off approximately ten seconds after they all bust their balls to get wet. Until then, I am destined to be stuck behind this desk nannying the penguins.’ Aria giggled, wondering if Nic had ever experienced a local swimming event.
During her time in the south-east, she hadn’t been to a single coffee morning in her neighbourhood, let alone the summer fayres, vegetable shows and torchlight processions many Lakeland towns organised.
Had he ever had the joy of betting where a ferret would run when sent down a plastic tube or what square a rooster might poop in?
Her gaze landed on the wording of the envelopes, stamped with the recognisable Castle Enterprises brand. ‘Huh? Since when was it a race?’
‘I know! No longer an all-inclusive fun event to bring the community together. That went out the window when my employer put up a prize.’
‘The supermarket provided a reward? But the envelopes have Castle Enterprises all over them and so do the banners.’
Sophie officiously rearranged a line of envelopes. ‘God no, the ground will rip apart in a fissure the size of the Netherlands before our new trainee manager comes up with an initiative of his own.’
Aria let it drop as she remembered her school friend always mixed and matched the narrative in her quest to tell a good story. ‘Do you have my envelope?’ she asked. ‘I think it might be hiding behind one of the others.’
Sophie sighed dramatically. ‘I see that as a you problem not a me problem.’
‘I hate to break this to you but it’s a you problem if you’re running registration. Why on earth didn’t they hire you for the pre-swim motivational talk?’
Aria’s joke earned her a honk of laughter.
Dressed entirely in black with X Men sunglasses perched on her nose, Sophie looked as comfortable in her skin as ever, whereas Aria was feeling as overheated as a boiled egg.
Unlike many of the other swimmers, she was putting off climbing into her wetsuit for as long as possible.
She’d far rather dive into the lake in her cozzie, but rules were rules, and she’d have to wear a swim hat too which was always an ordeal with her mop of hair.
She glanced around for Nic again but didn’t find him.
She could ask Sophie but didn’t want her to think she was trying to muscle in on her boyfriend. The tent was growing busy.
Sophie grinned. ‘If you want to take a proper look around, why don’t you go get me a coffee? I’ll return the favour by buying you a hot choc when you’ve completed your mile.’
‘I’m doing the elite swim.’ Aria corrected her. ‘What kind of—’
‘Any kind. If you need to kill a Columbian cartel to source ground caffeine mixed with blood gold, I won’t judge. Just get me a freaking fix, will you.’
Aria shrugged. ‘Sure. Because you clearly need more hyping up.’
‘Actually, I need to pee, so I’ll get us both one. I just hope they’ve put in posh portaloos this time,’ Sophie said. ‘The smell last year resembled a gazillion rotting nappies. Do you know, in Iceland the toilets flush with hot water from the geysers. Better than an enema, eh?’
Taking this fact with a pinch of salt, Aria moved behind a table full of names, with no idea how to register anyone.
The stall for this year’s charity – Inglepets Animal Shelter – took pride of place in the huge marquee.
Outside, Cal Lawson was selling a winning combo of hot dogs and beer from an Airstream food trailer, and there were delicious-looking strawberry cream teas on offer from the WI.
Aria had often told her dad they should put ‘never too full for a scone’ on her gravestone when she died, unless they had to chisel ‘choked on a currant’ instead.
Looking out to a lake her father loved, she wondered if Felicity would be here.
She wished she had a sibling to help her navigate this stuff – not just losing her father, but the role of being a stepdaughter to a woman she hadn’t warmed to.
Felicity had moved heaven and earth trying to force a friendship when she first met Dad and still hadn’t managed to establish a single common interest. Aria cringed, remembering her work experience at the stables, and the Sunday lunches where she felt like a stranger in her own home as she passed overcooked carrots and mourned Mum’s possessions slowly being replaced on the mantlepiece.
Shaking herself out of a spiral, she tried to assist a lovely old man called Fred with his registration.
When she couldn’t locate his welcome package, she grabbed hers and scribbled out the name.
He would need the warming hot chocolate voucher more than her, as she was used to the chilly temperature of the water.
As she handed over the envelope, a loud voice announced the arrival of the other Lakeland accommodation dynasty.
‘The bog-standard swimmers have to register over there,’ Justin said to another man. His broad back was clothed in a creased linen jacket, with sweat patches under his arms. ‘However, the elite pick up their envelopes from the other table. I’ll just nip to the little boys’ room and then grab mine.’
Aria was relieved – hopefully Sophie would be back by then.
It was just like him to call out the weaker swimmers like that.
His presence sent a shudder through her body and not in a sexual way.
She’d accused Nic of hubris, but Justin was a bombastic bulldozer.
His self-assurance came from his self-made father and self-satisfied mother regularly telling him he was born into greatness.
They bragged about the Hetherington genes as though they’d shipped them in from Harrods, but her ex was nothing special.
He’d done enough at school to get by, while captaining the swimming and diving teams, inviting everyone to parties in the pools of the caravan sites nearest the coast. As competitive swimmers in their teens, they were thrown together on a regular basis, but he only made his move when her prize tally equalled his.
He had a half-decent body, and she had been keen to lose her virginity, so they dated and then became an item, until one day he decided they would get married.
And then, a year after that, he undecided it by text, informing her she could pop the ring back to reception when she was passing any of his sites.
She was pleased to this day that she’d got rid of it in a pawn shop in Reading and spent the money on takeaways.
Sophie reappeared in the tent with two cardboard cups. ‘They say you shouldn’t have coffee or alcohol before a race. But this is breaststroke rocket fuel, babe.’ Sophie winked.
Aria took the cup. ‘Ow! It’s hot!’
‘Mocha laced with a miniature bottle of brandy. A traditional pre-race beverage. Talking of hot…’ Sophie murmured as Nic appeared at the entrance to the tent.
With a stab of jealousy, Aria thought he looked as cool and handsome as ever in brown chinos and a cream shirt.
Did he have someone follow him around with an iron?
And who was the older man with him? Probably someone he was shamelessly schmoozing.
The two men had a similar look and stood with their arms folded as though they owned the world.
Maybe Nic was negotiating to buy another chunk of it.
She waited for Sophie to run to greet her boyfriend and was surprised when she made no move.
A moment later, they disappeared again. As the latecomers rocked up, Aria realised the race would start soon and asked Sophie if she’d mind watching Tiger for the duration of it.
‘I need to go and put on the hateful body armour.’