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The days passed in a blur of fresh air and sweaty, breathless fun. They hiked to the tops of fells, scrambling up twisty trails and over rocky outcrops, gasping as they finally collapsed at the top, lungs heaving and skin stinging from the heat. They gorged on Clare’s delicious picnics and the incredible views, devouring chunks of fresh bread and local cheese while drinking in the valleys and mountain ridges spread before them.
“That’s Windermere,” Clare would say, pointing to the long ribbon of silvery water stretching into the distance, or she’d point at a rocky ridge, “That’s Crinkle Crags and next to it Bowfell.” She was able to recognize every mountain from its shape and Flora was impressed by her local knowledge.
“You’ve climbed all of them?”
“Yes. My father and I used to go every weekend.”
She and Clare had slid into an easy friendship, and Flora was surprised by how easy it was to be with her. Any traces of awkwardness were long gone. It had taken only a few conversations for Flora to work out that Clare’s occasional reserve masked shyness. She wasn’t good with strangers and the more time she and Flora spent t
ogether, the more she opened up, particularly when it came to sharing this corner of the world she loved so much.
The sheer scope and variety of the scenery was breathtaking, from towering rock faces and craggy ridges, to moatlike lakes that snaked along the valley floor. As they clambered up steep sided gullies and cooled down next to frothing waterfalls, they saw buzzards, ospreys and red kites. They tramped through ancient woodland, the trees knotted and gnarled.
They left Molly with Clare’s mother for a day and climbed Helvellyn, a test of physical fitness that made Flora finally give thanks for the running she’d done with Izzy. As she tackled the notoriously vertiginous ridge of Striding Edge she discovered two things. First, that she wasn’t afraid of heights, and second, that she was in love with the Lakes, even though that affection didn’t extend to actually dipping her toes in water. Her normally pale skin became lightly tanned, and a few freckles appeared on her nose. Her body felt stronger than it had in years. She felt stronger.
And whatever she did, Jack was there. They tried to be discreet, but she wasn’t sure they succeeded. She discovered it was possible to communicate a great deal without touching. A look. A smile. That was all it took. And on the occasions when they managed more she wasn’t sure which of them was more desperate. It was more a collision of need than a blending. Sometimes she looked at him and thought he’s gorgeous, and other times she thought he’s mine. Either way she couldn’t stop looking, and the more she looked the better she knew him. She knew that look he wore when he listened to Molly, the way he smiled when he swung his daughter onto his shoulders and heard her belly laugh. And then there were the more intimate expressions. The look in his eyes when he and Flora were naked together, when her bare leg slid over his and when she arched into him, inviting.
Fortunately their deepening connection didn’t appear to have a negative impact on the rest of the group.
Since the incident with Molly, Izzy was noticeably more relaxed with her. Flora was no longer nervous and on edge when they were together, and occasionally they even shared a laugh. They weren’t friendly exactly, but the tension was a little less than it had been.
When it rained—inevitable, Clare had said—Flora made a pirate camp in the living room for Molly, draping sheets over the sofas and constructing a “ship” complete with mast. She soaked paper in cold tea and made a treasure map, even going so far as to burn the edges to add authenticity. Clare joined in and they played hide-and-seek, making full use of secret doors and cupboards in the lodge and hidden corners of the tangled, overgrown garden. Flora remembered doing the same thing with her mother, hiding under a bed, holding her breath, waiting in a state of delighted terror to be discovered. She told Molly about it and answered a dozen more questions about the things she’d enjoyed doing with her mother.
Aiden and Izzy were often absent, sometimes kayaking together on the lake, more often walking along the lake trail, heads close together as they talked.
Izzy seemed happier than she’d been in a while and the sensitive topic of college hadn’t been mentioned again. Jack had confided in Flora that he thought it was best left for now, and she’d agreed with him. Time could soften things, she knew that. And time could provide clarity. She had a feeling Izzy needed both.
Although Flora had fallen in love with the mountains, she was equally happy spending time in the gardens of Lake Lodge. She spent hours deadheading, trimming, tending. Clare often joined her and they stood together, planning the garden together.
“Is it too late to prune the lupins?” Clare asked her one morning as she nursed a brimming mug of tea.
“Lupins? Oh, you mean lupines. It’s fascinating how many differences there are between British English and American English. The answer is, definitely not too late. It will encourage new growth. Let’s do it now.” Flora put her mug down and was stuck into the gardening even as Clare protested that she was a guest and shouldn’t be cutting back plants.
But Flora no longer felt like a guest. At some point she’d stopped feeling like an outsider and started feeling like part of the group. Welcomed. Accepted.
When she finished with the lupines, she removed side shoots from the wisteria and divided the clumps of bearded iris so that they’d form roots and buds the following year.
Occasionally Clare would mention Becca, and gradually Flora formed a better picture of the woman who had been Clare’s lifelong friend. Yes, she’d had ferocious ambition and talent, but she seemed to have been driven by deep-seated insecurities that she’d never been able to shift.
The realization that even the perfect Becca had her imperfections gave another boost to Flora’s determination to be herself. Imperfections were part of being human. Trying to please her aunt had been her way of surviving a terrible time in her life and yes, it had escalated to ridiculous proportions, but she was more aware of herself now.
She should have known that such blissful calm couldn’t last. It came to an end during their second week at Lake Lodge and it started with a fight about Chase.
It was the first time Flora had heard Molly and Izzy argue.
Izzy was sitting on the kitchen floor, rubbing the tummy of an ecstatic Chase. “Aiden isn’t around today because he’s sailing with a group of friends—birthday celebration—so I’m spending the day with Chase. I’ve made a picnic and I’m taking him for a long walk, is that okay, Aunt Clare?”
“No!” Molly’s face crumbled. “He’s ours! He’s coming sailing. Daddy promised.”
“He’s not yours. And anyway, you’ve had him all week. It’s my turn.” Izzy’s voice was level. “You can play with him later, when you’re back from sailing.”
“I want to play with him in the boat. He loves swimming.”
Izzy stopped rubbing and Chase gave a whine of protest. “I’ll take him swimming.”
“You can’t swim on your own. It’s not allowed.”
Flora felt a hard knot in her stomach. The sudden tension stressed her.
