All That Is Lost Between Us (26 page)

This contest is extra-special because it is only the second time it has been held on home turf. The race will begin in the field behind the tennis courts, and the first section of the run is on the rough path they use for training all year. After that, they will divert onto the fells proper. There will be plenty of rock scrambles to negotiate, a few small gullies, and about half a mile of narrow ridge, but Georgia has run more challenging courses than this one, and she can already picture herself striding confidently across the ever-adjusting landscape, until she reaches the final section where they leave the woods behind and begin a steep sprint down the hillside towards the school field and the finish line. She sees herself alone at that point, the other competitors already beaten. She hears the cheers of the crowd as they spot one of their own in the lead – her parents and Zac at the front, hands raised, urging her on. For a moment she imagines another familiar face in the melee. Would he be proud of her, or would his face hint at sentiments she would rather not see?

She has no desire to go back to sleep, but it's so early that she doesn't know what to do with herself. Ideally she would go for a run and clear her head, but today is the one day she can't. She has to save her strength for later. She debates going downstairs to get a drink, but she doesn't want another run-in with her parents. She had raged at her mother last night for treating her like a child – she is seventeen years old, she doesn't need permission to go to Bethany's house. Her mother had hardly got a word in before Georgia had turned on her heel and fled upstairs.

It is as though her mother is single-handedly capable of releasing a pressure valve inside Georgia. Afterwards, there had been no chance of going back down – not with her mother and father setting about their own personal Armageddon. She had grabbed her earphones and turned her music up as loud as she could to drown out their embittered mudslinging, but she still found herself cowering from their vehement voices, as though any minute the fallout of their fury would begin to rain down on her. She isn't sure how long it took for them to stop shouting, because she had fallen into a fitful sleep.

If it weren't for her, perhaps they wouldn't have been so angry with one another. She wonders whether she should find them and say sorry. But apologies feel like weakness. Apologies feel like forerunners to confessions. Today Georgia needs every bit of strength she can muster. She will not allow herself to offer up a speck of softness for her mother to exploit.

She heads to the bathroom, splashing her face with water to wash away her malaise. Then she snuggles back into bed and picks up her phone.

She doesn't have any texts. She is about to move on to Facebook when there's a knock on the door. She stiffens, then relaxes when she sees her dad poke his head around.

‘How's our athlete feeling this morning?' he asks, rubbing his eyes. He looks exhausted. ‘Would banana pancakes help? Some early strength for later? Your mum's having a bit of a lie-in – come down and we can talk through your race plans today.'

Breakfast sounds good, and she's grateful he's hinting that the coast is clear. ‘Okay, thanks.'

He leaves the room and she collects her dressing-gown. Her dad is good at cheering her up and putting things in perspective. She thinks of all those university prospectuses in her desk drawer, and imagines she and her father hundreds of miles apart next year, on a morning just like this one, her room empty as he walks past without a glance. Emotion expands in her chest. She sits on the bed and takes long, slow breaths. She needs to hold it together today.

She almost brings the phone. She really wants to keep it with her in case Sophia calls back, but she needs it to be fully charged for race time. Reluctantly, she leaves it plugged in, and heads for the stairs.

Her dad is already taking ingredients out of the fridge.

‘So, are you okay this morning?' he asks without looking round, hearing her come in.

‘I'm good.'

‘Ready?'

‘As ready as I'll ever be.'

He turns and smiles. Comes over to her and wraps his arms around her. ‘Whether you come first or last, I couldn't be more proud of you, Georgia. So, you run like the wind, and have a good time today, okay?'

‘Okay,' she says, listening to his words and trying to relax. She pushes her face against his chest, hiding from her thoughts, needing to quash the terrifying thought of letting him down.

Z
ac has a plan to save his sister's reputation. He'd sat up most of the night before it came to him, mechanically despatching person after person on the small screen while he worked through his anger. He had rechecked his newsfeed, hardly able to believe what had happened.

‘
Sleeping beauty!
' Jacinta had labelled the photo. By 2 am it had 42 likes already, and the comments were all along the same lines:
OMG – how did you get that?

Jacinta:
LOL – not telling.

It was a virus, spreading before his eyes. He only stopped watching when he fell asleep.

Through the night, Maddie kept apologising to him, sending text after text. He didn't see the messages until he woke up, by which time he'd realised he needed her help.

Maddie calls him five minutes after he texts his request, asking in a quavering voice, ‘What are you going to do?'

‘Will you give me her address or not?'

‘Not unless you tell me what you're planning.'

She sounds terrified, as though Zac intends to arrive at Jacinta's house locked and loaded. Zac allows himself to entertain that scene for a moment before he returns to the plan in hand.

‘I want to talk to her. I want to make sure she takes that picture down.'

‘What does it matter? Once it's on the internet you can't stop it from spreading. Look what happened to that Verity girl last year.'

The last person Zac wants to think about right now is Verity. ‘This is completely different. We don't know the story behind that photo.'

‘Er, Zac, we can hazard a guess,' Maddie interrupts. ‘Don't tell me you haven't got a good idea?'

‘Stop it, Maddie,' Zac cuts in. ‘It sounds like you're on Jacinta's side. Georgia's your cousin, for Christ's sake. What right does Jacinta have to plaster Georgia's private property all over Facebook?'

‘Zac, you don't understand,' Maddie wails. ‘If I fight Jacinta over this, she'll hate me. Everyone will hate me. I'll be an outcast.'

‘So, you're scared of her,' Zac snaps, his words releasing a flare of sympathy before his anger snuffs it out. ‘She's a bully, Mads. And you know the only way to beat a bully is to stand up to them. If you won't, I will. Now, give me her address. I know she lives on Cheshire Way anyway, so if I have to knock on every door until I find her, I will.'

‘It's number twenty-four,' Maddie concedes. It sounds as though she's trying not to cry. ‘I'm sorry, Zac. I promise you I didn't mean this to happen.'

‘Text me her number as well, will you,' he says, ignoring her apology. ‘And do me a favour and get some new friends. While you're at it, make sure they deserve you. Your current clique make you look like a bit of a bitch.'

He hangs up, pulls on the first clothes he can find among the disarray on the floor, and grabs a hoodie. When he opens the door he can hear his dad and Georgia downstairs, and he wavers on the landing, before he sees Georgia's door ajar, her mobile charging on the bedside table.

Take her phone,
he says to himself.
If you can stop Jacinta, and Georgia doesn't see Facebook before then, she might never even know.

Bollocks,
replies another voice in his head.
Complete wishful thinking. Someone will share it sooner or later. Of course she'll find out.

Nevertheless, he might be able to stop everything from imploding until after the race.

He detaches the cable and tucks the little device in his pocket. Then he considers his next move. He'd prefer to get out of the house without a raft of explanations, so he goes back into his room, opens his window and climbs onto the garage roof, shimmying his way down the drainpipe. This small act of bravery gives him courage – it's almost like he's gone Black Ops himself as he stealthily collects his bike from the side of the house and sets off through the woods.

Before he's gone far, there's a buzzing in his pocket. He stops, pulls out Georgia's phone and sees that Sophia is calling. Surprised and guilty, he tucks it back into his pocket without answering.

On the bright side, he realises as he rides on, if Sophia is up to ringing Georgia, then it must mean she is feeling better today.

When he's made it onto the paved track, he uses his own phone to text his mum, imagining the dogs and strobe lights that will come his way shortly if he doesn't let her know he is okay. After last night she isn't going to be happy that he's left without a word, but that's because she doesn't know the bigger picture. If she did, she might just be grateful.

The thought of an unknown woman asleep in Georgia's room is so bizarre that he would fear for his mother's mental state if it hadn't been for the hit-and-run, and Georgia acting so strangely and hiding bombshell photos in her diary. The way things are at the moment, he could believe just about anything.

He sets off down the hill again, enjoying the rough ride, letting each bump loosen him up and add to the adrenalin. Facing Jacinta isn't an easy prospect, but when he pictures her smirking face the rage in his belly keeps him moving.

Eventually he reaches the main road. Although it is early, there are plenty of people around, shop workers rushing to open up, tea rooms already busy with eager tourists making the most of their holidays. Zac studies them as he travels by, making up secret lives for a few of them: that grey-bearded twig of a man putting money in the parking meter is a former Olympic long-distance runner; the rotund woman with the screaming twins used to peddle drugs in Manchester; the lady in the bakery has been in witness protection since her husband was murdered. Anyone in walking gear is given a score out of ten: less than three means his dad will probably be out rescuing them later. Zac has heard countless stories of ramblers who set off blissfully unprepared for any kind of mishap, relying on their mobile phone's GPS to navigate, or sometimes simply presuming that if there is a path it will lead them on a circuit to civilisation, not deeper into the wild. It's easy to spot who is prepared: usually older men travelling with wives or families, lightweight backpacks bulging with supplies. A group of friends who don't appear much older than his sister jostle and joke as they head down the road away from town, and he wonders where they are going. He tries to imagine himself part of a big group like that, but the picture won't stay with him. It hadn't been so difficult to get along with girls when he was younger, but Maddie is his last true female friend, and after this morning it's likely he has lost her. Looks like he and Cooper are stuck with each other for now.

Eventually he freewheels down a short hill, before taking another cycle path as a short cut to the opposite side of town. Before long he is riding down Cheshire Way, counting the numbers until he reaches the tall Edwardian terrace that says 24.

He checks his phone – it's only eight o'clock, she might not even be up. He had planned to knock, but now he thinks better of trying to get past a pair of irate, half-dressed parents. He walks to the end of the road, sits on the street sign and calls Jacinta's number.

‘Hello?' Her voice is uncertain.

‘Jacinta, it's Zac . . .' He hears her repeat his name in surprise but doesn't stop talking, ‘I'm sitting on your street sign, and I'm about to hammer your door down if you don't come out here and talk to me.'

She hangs up without a word. He checks the time, decides he'll give her five minutes and then call back. He sees that Sophia has tried to ring Georgia four more times. Damn. Georgia is going to be livid. It's not going to be easy to make up his reasons for stealing, but she will know the truth soon enough, perhaps he won't have to.

His throat constricts. He gulps a few times, trying to clear an easier path to breathe.

Georgia is going to find out what you have done.

Forget that
, he tells himself,
and concentrate on your mission
.

He waits.

Jacinta hurries towards him a minute later, buttoning up her cardigan as though she got dressed in a hurry. ‘I snuck out,' she whispers, standing in front of him with her arms folded, ‘so you'd better make it quick.'

Her face is pale without its usual pasting of make-up. He has caught her off-guard – she hasn't had time to conjure her spiteful veneer.

‘Fine,' Zac growls. ‘If you don't go back inside and take that photo off Facebook right now, I will hound you until you do.'

‘That sounds like stalking and intimidation, Zac,' she snips. ‘I'm sure my parents will have you arrested for it.'

He jumps up, steps closer. ‘You don't understand, do you? That photo belongs to my sister. If you humiliate her, I will make absolutely sure that the same thing happens to you.'

He is close enough to see her falter. ‘It's just a laugh, Zac. Why are you worried? You can't even tell that Georgia's there.'

‘If you tell
anyone
where you got it,' Zac interrupts, ‘I will make sure something horrible happens to you – in public.'

Jacinta's eyes narrow. ‘You're evil, Zac.'

‘So are you. You're playing with people's lives, Jacinta. It's not some game.'

He sees her puffing up, rearing back. She dances in his vision like an adder about to strike.

‘That's a joke, coming from a gamer like you. Maddie is always laughing at you, you know. She thinks you're pathetic and weird. We all do. I'll bet that's why you lust after your cousin – she's the only girl that even notices you.'