“Liv, it’s 5k over hill and dale. Look, it’s being held at Wethersham Hall.” Hannah had visited Wethersham Hall too many times to count. When they were growing up, it had been one of Beth and Archie’s favourite picnic spots. Its grounds were vast and looking at the leaflets map, the running route cut mainly through Wethersham’s woodland. Not the easiest of terrains to walk on, never mind anything faster.
Mel’s excitement grew. “Did I ever tell you I hold the Saint Hilda’s long-distance running record?”
“No,” Liv said. “That’s fantastic.”
“I was sixteen when I set it and I’m still unbeaten today. The thing you have to remember, ladies, is it’s all in the breathing.” She looked from Liv to Hannah. “Do that, and I reckon we can easily crack this.”
Hannah couldn’t believe Mel had no confidence when it came to men but radiated in the stuff over running. Listening to her, Hannah didn’t know whether to feel sick or impressed.
She looked down at her comfortable midriff, before scanning the pictures that accompanied the leaflet’s write-up. Athletic types, wearing numbered bibs and exuding happiness, stared back at her. “There’s a reason you’ve never seen me run, you know.” She felt hot, sweaty and out of breath just thinking about it.
“It’s not for another four weeks yet, Hannah,” Liv said. “Look.” She pointed out the race date.
“Like that’s gonna help.”
Liv ignored Hannah’s protests. “Which gives us plenty of time to train. And it’s not like you have anything else on, is it? Not with Beth and Archie in France.”
“You don’t even have housework and shopping to distract you,” Mel said, reminding Hannah of her earlier confession.
Hannah pictured the three of them outside Wethersham Hall preparing to run the race. Tall and lithe, Liv looked the epitome of fitness in her Lycra running suit and top-of-the-range trainers. Mel, eyes closed, undertook yogic breathing exercises, before jumping up and down and stretching as she got herself into the zone. Hannah hadn’t even got her foot on the starting block when the race official fired her pistol. Before Hannah knew it, Liv and Mel were disappearing into the distance, while trailing well behind, she huffed and puffed, hardly able to lift her feet.
“So what do we think?” Liv asked. “Are we all up for this?”
Hannah took in Liv and Mel’s eagerness. “I thought you two were my friends.”
CHAPTER8
Having made it clear she wouldn’t be taking part in the sponsored race, Hannah had avoided speaking to Mel and Liv. They’d texted, trying to bring her around to their way of thinking, but Hannah was having none of it. She was all for raising money, it was the running bit Hannah objected to. She shook her head at the thought. Anyone would think Mel and Liv didn’t know her.
Picking up her mobile from the kitchen counter, Hannah shook her head at their persistence, and dismissing the idea altogether, made her way into the lounge. Positioning herself on the sofa, she balanced her phone against the decorative bowl that sat on the coffee table, clicking to start a video call, before making herself comfortable. Having been time checking since getting out of bed in anticipation of finally speaking to Beth and Archie, Hannah couldn’t wait to hear about their trip so far and she sat in anticipation of seeing their cheerful faces as they regaled her with stories about what they’d been up to.
The ringtone continued, and Hannah glanced over at the mantel clock. At exactly 10am UK time, which meant 11am in the South of France, she couldn’t understand why no one was answering. Having texted Carl first thing to arrange it, he’d assured her Beth and Archie would be ready and waiting. She ended the call and switched from Beth’s number to Archie’s. With no response there either, Hannah scowled in frustration and telling herself it had to be third time lucky, she decided to try ringing Carl’s phone.
She was about to concede when his face suddenly appeared on the screen. “Hannah,” he said, as if surprised to see her. “Is everything all right?”
She frowned. It wasn’t like Carl to forget an appointment. In her experience, he was efficiency personified. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
He screwed up his face, realisation evidently dawning. “Of course. Your catch-up with Beth and Archie. Sorry, I should have remembered.”
“Yes, you should. Are they there?”
“They’re splashing about in the pool. Hang on a sec, I’ll get them.”
Carl propped up his mobile and from what little Hannah could see, the villa they’d rented was stunning. Taking in its whitewashed walls and dark wooden beams, she envisaged a natural stone floor to go with them. Light flooded into the room, Hannah guessed from huge patio doors that led out to what was, no doubt, an immaculate seating area with a swimming pool beyond.
Almost able to smell the lavender as its scent drifted on the warm morning breeze, she’d have put money on the house having pale blue shutters, the perfect backdrop for a sun-bleached natural wood dining table that seated at least six. “How the other half live,” she said to the sound of her children approaching.
A part of Hannah had hoped that Beth and Archie were missing her as much as she missed them. However, going off their conversation that wasn’t the case.
“I can’t believe it’s that time already,” Beth said. “Fingers crossed she won’t keep us long. We still need to shower before lunch.”
“Never mind a shower,” Archie replied. “I’m starving.”
“Ew. You’re disgusting,” Beth said.
Hannah thought it just like her son to be thinking of his stomach. He was at that age when opening the fridge door was a reflex action and no amount of food could satisfy him. “Don’t worry,” Hannah said, as they came into view and sat down. “I’m only making sure you’re both alive and well.”
“Sorry, Mum, you weren’t meant to hear that,” Beth said. “It’s just that we’ve got a table booked.” Her eyes widened. “We’re off to La Mayssa.” Talking with her hands as much as she was her mouth, La Mayssa was obviously the place to be. “It’s in Villefranche-sur-Mer and has views that look out over the Mediterranean Sea.”
