Chapter 46
Each morning Tilly goes for long runs, getting in her last days of training, going further than she strictly needs – to avoid the bookshop and the part of the canal she knows a certain bike rider frequents.
As she runs, she thinks back over the past year, not quite believing that she has now reached the point where she can run and think about things other than running.
Her adventures flash through her mind as she takes each step: her first visit to the bookshop, the evenings spent cooking new recipes in her flat, the trips to Bali and Italy with Harper and the silence that now stretches between them – the longest they have ever gone without speaking.
She pictures sunlit Parisian streets and rolling Tuscan countryside, the steaming pavements of New York and the wild, wet shores of Jura.
And there in the background of her memories is Alfie. She runs faster and harder.
The day before the half-marathon an email arrives.
From: elizabeth.cohen@
To: tillynightingalereads@
Subject: London meeting
Dear Tilly,
Just checking in to confirm our lunch on the 15th November, 12.30 p.m. at The Ivy.
I look forward to seeing you and telling you more about the opportunity coming up at Alphabet Books. I think you could be a great fit …
As she runs, looping her way around Regent’s Park and along the canal through Camden, Tilly pictures herself running through Central Park and along the Hudson River instead, exploring new neighbourhoods, skyscrapers towering above her.
If the conversation with Liz goes well, then a new job in New York could be exactly the new start she needs. A new adventure.
It would mean leaving her life here behind. But what does she really have keeping her here?
Hyde Park is buzzing with swarms of people dressed in bright running gear and fancy dress, race numbers pinned to their chests, stretching as they wait for the race to begin.
Motivating music pumps through speakers, giving the occasion the atmosphere of a party – which feels a little strange for just before 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning.
But Tilly is happy to take all the motivation she can get.
She glances at her phone, cued up with her favourite energizing playlist.
Rachel:
Good luck today! Xx
Mum and Dad:
So proud of you, sweetheart. We’ll be cheering you on! Just keep running! Xxx
Alfie:
‘Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.’ T. S. Eliot
She stares at the last message, swallowing hard.
She hasn’t replied to any of his ‘Just checking in’ messages since their tourist day out.
With a shake of her head, she zips her phone into her running pouch and bounces on the spot to keep warm.
An overhead announcement tells her that it’s just a few minutes until start time. Is she really about to do this?
‘Tilly!’
At first she can’t see anyone she knows amongst the crowds.
But then, there’s Harper, dressed in the same purple leggings and top they wore for their first run together, weaving through the crowd.
Her hair is shorter, worn in tiny pigtails.
It’s strange to see her sister after so long, and even stranger not to step closer and pull her into a hug. But Tilly remains frozen on the spot.
‘I’m so glad I found you,’ Harper says breathlessly as she stops alongside Tilly, doing a couple of stretches. ‘I thought I’d never find you. I was almost hoping you’d decided to dress as a banana or something.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’m doing the same thing as you,’ Harper replies, her voice firm with the stubbornness Tilly remembers from childhood when Harper was learning to ride a bike and kept falling off but getting straight back on again.
‘You signed us up to do this together, remember? And so that’s what we’re going to do. ’
‘But that was before … everything.’
‘I know,’ replies Harper. ‘And I know you said you needed space. But it’s been months.’
‘Everyone, will you take your places, the race will begin shortly!’
A voice booms over the speakers and a ripple of nervous energy spreads through the crowds. People hop up and down on the spot, doing their final preparations. Tilly tightens her ponytail, trying her best to focus on the race ahead and not on the sight of Harper doing quad stretches beside her.
‘Tilly, come on …’
‘Not now, Harper!’
A countdown begins over the speakers and the people in their time section take their places.
‘Three, two, one, off you go!’
There’s a great surge of movement and Tilly is swept up in it, her feet lifting as she begins to jog.
At first the crowd is tightly packed and she has to work hard not to trip over, but before too long space begins to open up as the faster runners move ahead and everyone finds their rhythm.
Tilly settles into a steady pace, conscious of the thirteen miles that lie ahead.
Sensing a presence, she turns to see Harper jogging steadfastly beside her.
Tilly speeds up, pushing away from her sister through the crowds.
After a while Tilly slows to a normal jog again.
But a few seconds later Harper is there at her side again.
Tilly speeds up. But Harper speeds up too.
Tilly tries veering off course instead, weaving around a couple dressed as bananas.
‘Hey, watch out!’
The running bananas grab hold of each other to steady themselves.
‘Sorry!’ She heads for the opposite side of the path but Harper is right behind her, sprinting to keep up.
‘Tilly, stop,’ pants Harper. ‘This is ridiculous! We haven’t even gone five hundred metres and we’re already out of breath. We can’t keep this up!’
‘Then stop chasing me!’
‘Stop running away! I know you’re hurting, but my wedding is only a month away and I still don’t even know if you’re coming! You said you wanted space and I’ve given you space. But we’ve got to talk about this.’
Tilly feels momentarily guilty but then remembers the beach photograph on her fake dating profile, Joe cropped out of the picture. She attempts to run faster again but a stitch jabs at her side.
‘Fine, we can run together. But please, can we not do this here? I just want to focus on the race. This is important to me.’
‘OK, but we’re going to talk properly once we’ve finished this.’
Tilly flashes Harper a look, catching the determined expression on her face as she jogs at her side, her little stubby pigtails bobbing up and down. And despite everything there’s something comforting about her sister’s confidence that they actually will finish the race.
The route takes them through Green Park, alongside St James’s Park and along the river, passing the Houses of Parliament and the London Eye.
At Trafalgar Square crowds cheer them on in front of a backdrop of statues and fountains, and Tilly experiences a rush of energy, fuelled by the buzz of the people around her.
She takes it all in, gazing up at the famous London landmarks as she runs, breathing hard now but still going.
As they hit The Mall, it begins to rain.
There are yelps and groans from the other runners as the rain soaks the tarmac but Tilly just tilts her head back, enjoying the cool feel on her skin.
As she glances to one side she sees that Harper is doing the same.
Their eyes meet for a second but Tilly looks straight ahead again, focusing on the runners pounding in the rain down the wide tree-lined avenue leading back to the Palace.
As they continue on to Hyde Park, there’s more cheering and clapping from the crowds gathered along the paths.
‘You’re almost halfway there!’ comes the cry of someone waving a flag with Go Mum! written on it.
‘Jesus,’ groans Harper at Tilly’s side. ‘We’re not even halfway there?’
Harper’s thoughts match Tilly’s exactly. She thought she’d been doing all right but the prospect of having to run everything she’s already done all over again feels impossible. There’s a blister brewing on her left heel. Maybe this was a terrible idea, after all …
‘Tilly! Harper!’
The shout comes from over by the trees at the side of the path. Tilly and Harper turn to spot their parents huddled under a cluster of umbrellas, alongside Raj and Rachel.
‘Quick, get the banner!’ says their dad and they all shuffle about, unrolling a soggy paper sign and spreading it out between them, Raj and Tilly’s parents at one end and Rachel at the other.
MOUSE, DON’T GIVE UP! it says in brightly coloured letters.
A sudden gust of wind shakes the banner. They all scrabble to keep hold of it but it flaps so hard that it tears. One half flies off in the wind, leaving Rachel holding the other. They all look down at the message.
GIVE UP!
‘Not what we were going for,’ says Rachel.
Any time Tilly has glanced over to check if her sister is feeling as tired as she is, Harper’s face has been set in an expression of steely determination. But by the way she throws herself into Raj’s arms, Tilly wonders if her sister might be finding it harder than she thought.
‘How are you doing, love?’ Tilly’s mum asks as she hugs her.
‘I’m OK. Flagging a little bit.’
‘You can do this,’ her mum says, rubbing her arm.
‘Yeah, you’ve got this, Tilly,’ adds Rachel.
Tilly’s dad holds out two water bottles. ‘I’m so proud of you both. Now, keep going. You can do this, girls.’
After a glug of water and a wave goodbye, Tilly jogs back to join the flow of other runners, Harper at her side.
‘We’ll see you at the finish line!’ their dad calls after them.
Tilly falls back into a rhythm, trainers hitting the rain-soaked path, water splashing up her ankles. Her earlier doubts have been washed away with the rain.
She’s going to do it. She’s going to finish this race.