Chapter Eight Cameron
Chapter Eight
Cameron
You total muppet! This is the worst idea you have ever had. What about work? What about Lachlan? What about you?’ Iona exploded at Cam, scaring some of the tourists and a fair few seagulls.
‘Firstly, the charity has given me special leave, secondly Hannah is taking Lachlan on holiday for most of it, and thirdly, I’ll be fine.
The Kilt Challenge needs to be completed, and I can do it,’ Cam declared, though he was starting to regret the hasty decision he’d made in the early hours of the morning.
Wheeling the bike alongside her towards the harbour so they could talk in more privacy, he had a feeling the conversation was going to get animated.
‘What about Sholto’s family?’ Iona demanded. ‘Do they mind you taking his place?’
‘They’re fully behind me,’ Cam said. ‘They were the first people I asked. Sholto was gutted about losing the sponsors and wasting all the hard work that’s gone into the logistics.’
Iona glared at him. ‘And what about Jenna?’
Cam paused before replying, wishing he’d never told Iona her name. ‘I haven’t told her yet.’
‘Jesus, Cam. You cannae go ahead with this. You haven’t trained. That bike hasn’t been out of the garage for months by the look of the cobwebs in the spokes. Are you sure you’re doing this for the right reasons?’
‘There are no cobwebs on my bike,’ he said, indignantly wiping them away, then: ‘What are the right reasons?’
‘To help the family. Not to impress Jenna.’
‘Jenna has nothing to do with my decision.’
Iona snorted so loud that a gull flew off in horror. ‘Well, I’m not prepared to pick up the pieces when this all goes horribly wrong.’
They walked past the signpost and Cam tried not to catch sight of the arm that pointed south. It wasn’t even 874 miles to Jenna, because bikes weren’t allowed on the UK’s fastest roads. It was actually over a thousand along country lanes, hills, valleys – in just two weeks . . .
‘You don’t mean that,’ he said.
‘No, I don’t . . .’ She groaned. ‘Argh. Cam. I love you, but this – this – now I know yer finally aff yer heid!’
Cam was beginning to wonder the same thing but before he could answer, his mobile rang.
‘Shit.’
‘What?’
‘It’s Jenna. I think she’s just heard the news.’
‘Cam. Tell me I’m imagining things. Tell me it’s not true. It can’t be. You can’t.’
Jenna’s pale face appeared on his mobile screen, her face pixelating. Even if he couldn’t have seen her at all, he’d have known from her voice that she was even more shocked and horrified than Iona had been.
With a wave, Iona left him to it and walked off.
‘I’m afraid it is true. I spoke to Sholto’s family and asked them how they felt about me taking his place.
He, the family and the support team are right behind me.
Sholto won’t be ready until next year earliest. All the press are ready.
Carly is ready. You know we won’t get that level of coverage again. ’
Jenna’s eyes widened. ‘But – but you can’t. I mean, this kind of challenge needs months of training and prep. It’s an epic endurance feat.’ She hesitated and the visual cut out momentarily, but Cam heard her say: ‘I mean, can you even ride a bike?’
Cam burst out laughing. ‘Ride a bike? Of course I can ride a bike. I cycle – regularly.’
‘How regularly?’
‘A couple of times a week.’
‘How far?’ she demanded.
‘Oh, at least thirty miles – more sometimes. And yes, up hills. You’re forgetting I live in Scotland. Haven’t you heard of Bealach-na-Bà? It’s one of the hardest cycling climbs in Britain.’
‘I saw it on a TV programme a couple of months ago. It looked horrendous, but if you’ve completed that . . .’
‘There you are then,’ Cam said, not adding that he’d only cycled about five miles of the relentlessly steep route with an old uni mate.
His bike had not been out of the garage since – until this morning.
‘Look, I know my way around a racing bike and Sholto’s team are adjusting his bike for me as we speak.
I swim, run three times a week and do a bit of climbing.
I’m fit and a year younger than Sholto, so what can possibly go wrong? ’
‘Oh, only everything!’ Jenna’s sigh was audible above the wind and waves.
‘What if – you can’t finish? Or you have an injury?
Plus, two weeks is a very challenging schedule even for someone who has trained.
And, you know what happens when you spend a long period of time in the saddle and you’re not used to it. ’
Jenna had hit on his greatest fear: the time in the saddle.
‘Sholto’s team have all the kit and they will be alongside me. I’ll have access to a physio every stopover and the best medical back-up – not that I expect to need it.’
‘I know – but . . .’ Her voice softened. ‘Oh, Cam. I appreciate you doing this. It’s incredibly brave and selfless, but I’m worried about you.’
‘So am I. For all the reasons you mentioned, but it’s too late now.
’ He grinned broadly. ‘I’ve told everyone, the media my end are informed.
I may not be famous like Sholto, but the press and TV are relishing the fact that an End-to-End employee who organised the trip has offered to take it on as a tribute to Sholto and his family.
Carly’s even sending a crew up here and to Land’s End when I finish.
’ If I finish, he thought, hiding a shudder of fear.
Jenna was silent for a moment, then she said, ‘Then I can’t stop you.
I won’t try to. I – am very concerned, but I also know that if anyone could do this, it would be you.
I’m one hundred per cent behind you and if you need anything, anything at all, call me straight away. I’ll make all the arrangements my end.’
‘Thank you. It means the world to have your support.’
‘You always have my support . . .’ Her voice broke up, possibly with emotion but it could have been the crappy signal. ‘Of course you do. There’s just one thing.’
‘What?’
‘Please tell me you’re not doing it in a kilt?’
‘Of course I am! That’s the best part and my sister has already brushed down the Munro tartan!’
He ended the call and looked out across the churning and lurching Atlantic swell. No orcas today, just the odd gull battling the wind.
Despite his bullish tone to Jenna, it was ninety-nine per cent bravado. In reality, he was shaking. What the hell had he done? Everyone he knew and loved thought it was a ridiculous idea that, with no training, he could do one of the biggest endurance challenges in the UK.
He wheeled the bike back to the house. The half-mile ride home was hardly going to add anything to his preparation and perhaps he should take every opportunity to rest.
‘Uncle Cam!’
Lachlan barrelled down the path towards him.
‘Uncle Cam! Mum says you’re going to ride a bike to Land’s End. Can I come?’
Lachlan threw his arms around Cam’s waist.
Cam felt tears sting the back of his eyes as the enormity of the challenge hit him full on. ‘I – um – you’ll have to ask your mum.’
‘She says we can see you off and she’ll try to come and see you along the way. I’ve been looking at a map. It’s a very very long way. Almost a thousand miles, and you have to ride through hills and into England and all the wayyyyyy down into Cornwall to the sea.’
Cam smiled. ‘My, you have done your research.’
‘I’ve marked all the stops on a map on my iPad.’
‘How do you know where they are?’ Cam asked, leaning the bike against the garden wall.
‘Mum checked out Sholto’s website. It’s all on there. I’ve got it all planned with cafés and pubs or places you could pitch a tent. Toilets. All of it.’
‘You’ve been googling pubs?’
‘Yes, but for you, not me. The website says you need to hydrate and eat masses of food – I thought you could fill up on peanut butter pieces and Irn-Bru. Mum says that your support team will have that all sorted. But I’m here to help. And I got you this.’
Lachlan delved into his shorts pocket and held out a small, gleaming pebble with beautiful stripes of silvery grey and white.
‘It’s lucky,’ Lachlan said. ‘Wherever you are, you’ll have a piece of home with you.’
Cam couldn’t reply for a few seconds. No words would get past the lump in his throat, so he hugged his nephew, love surging through him. ‘Thanks, buddy. I’ll need all the support I can get.’