February: A Day to Go
This is a terrible idea, thought Stevie as Chris pulled his campervan over into a bumpy but wide lay-by next to Loch Etrigg. Already parked up at the other end of the lay-by was the car carrying the Yorkshire team, plus their new female team member, Karen.
‘The A1 must have had less traffic than our route,’ observed Chris.
The weather was dreich: drizzly, grey, and hardly any breeze. It looked like it was set in for the rest of the day.
Staring down at the loch, Stevie tried to find some beauty in its dark surface, but it was unknown water that just left her feeling uneasy. Why had the original plan been changed? Why were they going to travel in convoy from here to the venue? Why couldn’t they have just met up at the championships and gone out for an evening meal and a drink once there? Instead, there’d been an exchange of messages between Holly and Karen just as they set off and then an enthusiastic and overwhelming vote to swim in Scottish waters to break the journey. Why?
In answer to Stevie’s slightly petulant question, Holly had just shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t bothered so long as they got something to eat and got to the B&B before dark. And Chris? He had seemed happy either way, too, which didn’t really help fill Stevie with confidence.
‘I’m just the driver,’ was what he actually said, but on the long journey, she had found herself second guessing what he was thinking.
Why am I even bothering to wonder? Why am I being so grumpy with everyone? This is supposed to be an exciting day! It’s what we’ve been working towards for months. She was sitting next to the window and Holly was between her and Chris, which probably hadn’t been the right way round as Holly got carsick, but then she had fallen asleep for most of the journey. From here, Stevie had been able to study Chris’s profile now and again. His nose was longer than it looked from face on, but his chin was still toned. Why did men age so much better than women? She sighed, running her finger under her chin and pushing up her own slightly sagging jawline.
What did she see in him? To look at, he was completely different from her ex-husband, who had been shorter than her but made up for his lack of height with a loud voice and mass of ginger hair. Chris, on the other hand, was an inch or so taller than her, more athletic in build than her ex and had an altogether calmer more stable feel to him. He came across as someone she could trust. At least that had been her initial impression, but had she misjudged him? She remembered that funny look of relief he’d had when he talked about Gail’s death the day they’d had coffee in Buttermere. He’d talked about his marriage feeling like a prison at times. She now wondered whether he’d tried to escape that prison and strayed from the marital home. Had John felt trapped in their marriage? Is that why he’d had an affair? Was it all her fault?
It had been a couple of weeks since she and Chris had gone for coffee and ended up sharing a bit of their lives, but since then, they hadn’t spoken to each other apart from general chitter-chatter before and after swims. Anyway, Holly had always been with them. After the Yorkshire Dales weekend when she’d had a whole body reaction to Chris enjoying Karen’s company, Stevie was beginning to wonder whether she had just imagined the connection in the cafe. She looked across at Chris again, but he seemed to be very emotionless and reserved, quite the opposite to how he’d been on the Yorkshire weekend. Was he finding this trip difficult because the company of others was being forced on him for hours, for days? For someone who had so obviously avoided the company of others after his wife’s death, it was a big ask. Perhaps that’s why he had offered to drive them. It was a brilliant way to stay focused, not have to interact too much, and to feel more in control.
If he was finding it difficult, so was she, but for other reasons. First, it was the culmination of a crazy idea she’d had several months ago as a way of building herself back up and proving to herself that she was still a strong, fairly competitive woman. Second, not only did it cement her friendship with Holly and Angela – which was important to her because, otherwise, her social outlet was desperately limited – but it also connected her to the bigger world, not just Cumbria. It would also be good to see Emma and the Oxford team again. A bit of friendly competition, perhaps?
The third, and final, reason was to do with jealousy. What was becoming an irritating road trip and difficult to deal with was largely down to an attractive, flirtatious woman half her age and how that woman, Karen, seemed to have everyone, including Holly, jumping to her attention.
But here they all were. Parked up in a lay-by en route to everything they’d been training for. Time to stop all this internal fretting, she told herself. Just get on with it!
Her firm chat with herself helped a little and as she pushed open the door and was about to climb down from the van, she stole a last glance across at Chris who was still in the driver’s seat, but stretching his arms up above his head and yawning. He dropped them down and shook his head from side to side like a cartoon character, his jowls slapping from side to side. Delightful, she thought, but grinned to herself. It was good to see him messing around a bit. It seemed to be for her benefit, judging from how he then turned and grinned at her. It was all she needed to lift her spirits. In a moment of playfulness, she yanked at Holly’s arm to wake her up.
‘Hey, wakey-wakey! We’re here.’ She pulled again and waited until she got a response.
To further boost her team spirit and rally the troops, she marched down to the lakeshore with the things she needed for this quick dip and found a rock to perch on. The others joined her and one by one everyone stripped down to swimming costumes. She put on swim shoes to protect her feet from the rocky shore, but noted that she and Holly were the only ones who had thought of this.
Chris and the Yorkshire men stood at the edge of the loch flexing their muscles and posing for pre-championship photos. Stevie smiled and waved at them. She’d grabbed her phone and was about to take their photograph when she noticed Holly creeping up from one side while they were distracted. She waved at Stevie to not give her away, then suddenly ran and splashed into the water behind them. The perfect photobombing opportunity.
Stevie watched in stunned silence as Holly then took it one step further and continued to splash the men. Their shrieks rang out through the drizzle and it was game on. She could feel herself start to relax and put everything else aside until this was all over. Maybe this halfway coming together had been a good idea after all? Break the ice and start the weekend with plenty of childish humour and silliness.
Then there was a different sort of shriek, which at first everyone ignored because they were now swimming out into deeper water, each one dealing with the cold water in their own way: swearing, squealing, talking loudly, or just zoned out. Stevie was on the verge of tucking her phone into her furry boot to keep it safe while she swam when she heard someone in pain. She looked up, expecting to see one of the swimmers messing about again, but it was Karen sitting on a rock a bit away from where everyone else had walked in.
‘Are you alright?’ called Stevie and started to walk over to her. It was now drizzling more heavily and she wished she’d kept her swim cloak on.
‘I’ve cut my foot on that glass,’ moaned Karen, bending her head over her foot, which she had up on her other leg, trying to turn the foot over slightly so that she could inspect the wound. But there was just too much blood. Stevie could see that from where she was. This looked pretty serious, she thought as she got nearer and saw the broken bottle scattered over the ground. Some of it was pushed well into the ground, but other pieces were ready to do damage to anyone who trod on it in bare feet. Someone would need to clear that up to avoid a repeat accident. But first she needed to help Karen.
‘Hey!’ she called out to the others, most of whom were starting to swim back to shore anyway. ‘Anyone got a first-aid kit? Karen’s cut her foot!’
‘I feel a bit faint,’ the younger woman said. Stevie knelt down next to her and instinctively put her arm around her as she would’ve done with one of her daughters. She didn’t want to actually touch the wound and knew that there was no point suggesting putting pressure on it to try to stop the bleeding. That would only drive the glass in further, causing more damage.
‘Who’s got a first-aid kit?’ she called again. Chris was the first to walk out and came straight across to the women, looking concerned. Holly and another of the Yorkshire women arrived next, while one of the men ran as quickly as his bare feet would allow him and rooted around for his car key in his black dustbin bag. He managed to push his cold feet into Crocs before heading back up to the lay-by to find the first-aid kit in the boot of his car. Someone needed to go and fetch the kit from him to speed things up, so Stevie left Chris with Karen who was looking extremely pale, and made her way back up to the vehicles. By the time she’d taken the kit and run back down to the lakeshore, the others were all out and getting themselves dressed in a hurry. The childlike horseplay atmosphere had vanished, replaced with an air of fear and anxiety.
Chris was now kneeling and pouring water over the wound to wash the blood away. Stevie could see where the puncture wound was, but then the blood kept flowing, so it was impossible to pinpoint it exactly. She unzipped the green first-aid kit and searched amongst the little packages until she found some antiseptic wipes and a gauze bandage. Glass was so difficult to deal with. If she tried to push it out, she risked driving it in deeper. She’d once had to try to get some glass out of her own foot and, in the end, having got herself home in the car, hopped up the stairs to the bathroom and used tweezers and a magnifying glass to grab hold of the end and pull it out. She remembered the excruciating pain up until the point of extracting the glass and then just feeling rather faint from the shock.
She caught Chris looking up at her, urging her to hurry. Finally, she gently placed the wipe on the wound, but it immediately became blood soaked and useless. She pulled another wipe from the packet and this time she did press it down gently, bracing herself for the woman’s squeal. But she was unable to stem the flow of blood and she felt a wave of panic. Karen appeared to be losing consciousness – or was she just leaning into Chris for support and comfort?
‘Stevie, stop. I know we need to stop this blood flowing, but this just isn’t working. She needs to be seen,’ said Chris quietly. ‘Let’s just try and staunch it enough by applying some gentle pressure and wrapping it tightly. But, whatever, there’s no way we can drive on to Loch Tay like this.’
‘Hospital?’ squeaked the woman, looking scared. Her face was pinched and a shade of blue, which made Stevie worry that she was also probably getting cold, even though she did now have her swim cloak around her.
‘Yes, I think we should get you to the nearest one,’ Chris replied. ‘Just as a precaution,’ he added, standing up and beckoning over to one of the Yorkshire men who had got dressed and was ready to help carry Karen in a cross-handed lift with Chris up to the lay-by. She leant against the other man while Chris opened the passenger door to his campervan. ‘Right, slide her up onto the seat.’ He wedged his swim towel under her foot and then wrapped it in one of his fleeces for comfort and to soak up more blood.
Stevie was puzzled. Chris was taking her to hospital? Why? Surely, it was up to one of the Yorkshire men to take her? A slightly sick feeling came into the pit of her stomach and she tried to ignore it. The ringing in her ears was getting louder as if her blood was whispering evil things to her. She hated herself for even questioning what was happening. It was almost as if she’d been triggered to react, more likely from old trauma rather than anything Chris was actually doing.
The truth was, in her mind, this was all going horribly wrong. She knew it had been a bad idea to stop off here. Holly came up to her and put her arm round Stevie’s shoulder. ‘You okay?’
‘Yep, just not sure why it’s Chris who’s taking her,’ she responded in a monotone voice, but it was the only way she could keep control of the horrible feeling of panic.
Although Stevie had told Holly about her ex, would she understand why Stevie was now reacting to this situation in such a strong way? Did everything always have to make sense? Could memories of being betrayed by her husband have somehow got tangled up with her growing feelings for Chris? Was the fear of being vulnerable stronger than the connection she had felt with Chris?
‘Come on, let’s go and get our bags and put them in the other vehicle.’ Holly pulled at Stevie’s arm to get her to move quickly. She knew what Stevie was probably thinking, but she also knew Chris needed to get off as soon as possible and it was sensible to transfer their bags, not just themselves, to the other car.
Chris reckoned the nearest hospital was Edinburgh, probably closer than driving on to Perth. One of the Yorkshire men had been googling hospitals and confirmed that he was right – it was closer by about twenty miles.
Stevie let herself be guided to the other car, trying to block out the sound of the campervan scrunching on the gravel in the lay-by as Chris turned it around and headed back the way they had come. Holly and the Yorkshire team shuffled stuff about and pulled down extra seats in the big silver seven-seater. Holly once again made no fuss about being prone to car sickness and climbed into the back, pulling a face at Stevie as she did so. As soon as they were settled, Stevie pressed the button to slide the window down a crack.
‘Well, that was exciting,’ said one of the Yorkshire women, turning round and raising her eyebrows at Stevie and Holly.
‘It’ll be fine,’ said the burly driver, whose twinkly eyes suggested that he was the type of man who only took things seriously when absolutely necessary.
Stevie used the sleeve of her fleece to wipe across the steamed-up window and concentrated on the drizzle-dull scenery that flashed past. What a disaster. It seemed that their brave team was now doomed to failure. To add to the misery, she didn’t even know these people whose car she was now trapped in. She only knew Holly, whose skin was gradually turning green and sweaty.
‘Stop the car!’ Stevie shouted to the driver.
As soon as he had brought the car to a squealing halt in the first safe place he could find by the side of the twisty road, she flung open her door and held back Holly’s long blonde hair while her friend leant as far as she could over her and spewed up half-digested hummus rolls into a puddle.
‘Oh, Holly,’ sighed Stevie as she helped her shaky friend out of the car and stood with her in the drizzle until the retching had stopped. Someone had found a child’s potty under their seat, which made a perfect receptacle for anything else that came up during the next couple of hours as the silver car rolled slowly through the valleys and isolated outposts of the cloud-covered and rugged Southern Highlands.
‘The snowy peak of Ben Lawers is over to our left somewhere,’ said the man with now subdued twinkly eyes as he took every bend as carefully as he could for the benefit of his delicate passenger.