Marching
Only the cows saw him eat his lunch. This was by no means the most remote part of the walk yet he’d seen no one on foot since he’d left Richmond. He knew that a landscape is not altered by one person’s absence, but the woods and lanes did seem dull, the patchworked fields just that, patched together. If Marnie were still here, she’d be looking up bus routes by now, but she wasn’t here, so …
On he walked, though he might as well have been on a treadmill. The simplicity of the route allowed him time to think, which was the last thing he wanted, and he found himself wrenching his mind away from last night as you might wrench a steering wheel to avoid a collision. Instead he tried to focus on the physical act of walking, marching, one-two, one-two, towards the high scarp of the Hambleton Hills and beyond that, the Cleveland Hills curving north. On the plateau at their summit, unseen, were the North York Moors, so that he felt like a child who can’t see the top of a table. On the maps, they looked formidably bare and unmarked, like reading a book where the pages become suddenly blank and even the word ‘moor’ seemed to carry an atmosphere of gloom. Of course it needn’t be like that, and it must be possible to have a fun time on the Moors, but even so, he felt apprehension at what lay ahead.
For now, he marched on through Danby Wiske and Oaktree Hill, Harlsey and Ingleby and finally along the edge of the plain, the path now rising abruptly into woodland that provided some shelter from the steady rain. Typical spring, he’d said.He climbed, descended again into a pretty town, the houses neat and sturdy, built from blocks, the village green unnervingly silent. In the pub, he spoke to a human being though only to collect his key. The room was Hawthorn, the Wi-Fi code wainwrightc2c.
A single bed, military-style. The Haywain in a clip frame. Biscuits, long-life milk, a small kettle. It was 5 p.m. and he had no idea how to fill the hours before sleep. He checked his phone but with no expectations. Any further communication with Marnie would have to come from him and he’d no idea what to tell her. Instead, he read three messages from Nat.
Hope you’re okay
Please reply
All okay?
He remembered last night in Richmond. My God, he thought, Ibought champagne.