We arrived back to applause and ironic cheers from the balcony.
Ade shrugged it off with a wide beam and a wave, with me limping behind, cursing my blisters. The others loved it when they saw the state of me, with the ribbing starting as soon as I was in earshot.
‘You’re just jealous,’ shouted Ade, trying to defend me. ‘We’ve covered miles this morning and I bet you’ve only just got up!’
‘Too right,’ jeered Patrick, holding his mug aloft. ‘We’ve been up long enough for a few brews, though.’
I sneered at him, wondering if it was just tea in his mug. I wouldn’t put such an early start past him.
Ade strolled into the house, vowing to return with teas of our own, leaving me to collapse on the wicker settee. It didn’t matter that the only space was next to Patrick. I was too tired and sore to care.
Gingerly I unlaced my boots and peeled the socks off my feet, expecting to see great swathes of skin come away at the same time, but aside from a couple of angry blisters, I was just about intact.
‘Have fun, then?’ asked Naomi, without looking in my direction. She was trying and failing in spectacular fashion to roll a fag, but there was an edge to her voice that suggested she didn’t want to look at me anyway.
‘Oh aye, buckets of the stuff. Love exercise, me. Especially in this heat.’
‘Should’ve said no, then, shouldn’t you? You wouldn’t catch me being dragged out by Ade like that.’
There was such bitterness in her voice that I wondered if she’d ever been asked. Maybe that was the problem.
Groaning, I leaned forward and took the cigarette paper from her, hoping the offer would cheer her up a bit, and although she still couldn’t look me in the eye, she managed a grudging thanks when I passed a fag back to her.
‘How long were you walking, then?’ Susie asked.
I hadn’t a clue. It felt like forever, but that could’ve been a mixture of lack of exercise and the awkwardness of the whole situation.
Conversation hadn’t exactly flowed after the funeral discussion and I’d spent a good amount of time cursing myself for being so aggressive.
I’d tried to chat, but every time I said anything, the focus soon shifted back to me and from there I just clammed up. There was nothing to say, so in the end we both said nothing.
It didn’t seem to bother Ade in the slightest, the silence or my grouchiness. She simply ambled along, taking everything in, humming to herself. It would have cheered me up in itself, had her happiness not seemed so alien to me.
Even when she returned with two cups of tea, a sheen of perspiration coating her face, the grin was still intact, and she made small talk with the others, Naomi in particular, before excusing herself to go and do some paperwork. If she had to go and write about her conversations with me, then she wouldn’t be wasting much ink, that was for sure.
By the end of the day, I’d stopped thinking about the awkwardness of the walk, despite the stiffness in my legs.
With the help of a sneaky swig of vodka or two, I’d put it to the back of my mind. In fact, come the next morning I’d convinced myself it had been an attempt that had gone so badly she wouldn’t dare repeat it. Once again, though, when it came to Ade I was wrong, as by eleven o’clock we were back on the coast road, the sun on our backs and plasters on our heels.
She’d had to work a lot harder to convince me a second time, promising not to walk me as far or for as long. What she didn’t promise, however, was not to pester me with more questions, and when we stopped for our first water break after half an hour she started her offensive.
‘I had a phone call with the psychiatrist from the hospital yesterday. Alice. Do you remember her?’
I nodded. She’d been kind enough, but as the one who’d prescribed the dodgy pills, my memories of her were slightly tainted.
‘She was asking after you, how you are doing.’
‘And what did you tell her?’
‘I told her you were still at the start of your journey, but that I was sure you would get there.’
I wanted to sneer. All this talk of journeys and potential, it was just guff, as the others had said, a way for them to justify their jobs.
‘She filled in a lot of gaps for me too, Daisy. Told me more about the anxiety attacks you had while you were there. That you were very distressed, that you talked a lot about how everything was your fault.’
As my fingers reached for tobacco, I hoped my silence would tell her everything she needed to know and she’d back off.
It did nothing of the sort.
‘It’s not unusual to feel guilt when someone close to you dies, you know? It makes you think about things you should have done differently, things that perhaps you shouldn’t have said. Do you know what I mean?’
I jerked my head slightly as I lit my fag, not wanting to encourage her.
‘What is really important is that you don’t allow these thoughts to settle. You must not give them the time of day, or allow them to replay over and over in your mind. It will do you no good to do this, Daisy, believe me.’
I exhaled hard, seeing if I could force the waves back with my smoke. Anything not to engage with Ade. She was getting too close.
‘All this will take time, but it will take a lot longer if you choose to ignore it. Every day I’m happy to walk with you. Every day I will ask you how you are feeling, if there is anything I can do to help you make sense of whatever is in your head. But I cannot make you talk. This has to be up to you.’
‘I don’t see the point in talking.’ I wasn’t angry, just bored and frustrated with the conversation. ‘What good will it do me? What’s done is done. I can’t take it back. Talking won’t uncrash the car, will it?’
‘Of course, no. As much as we all wish it would. But talking about it may allow you to understand it differently, realize that perhaps it wasn’t your fault.’
Emotions built up in my throat and I sucked hard on my rollie, trying to burn them away. I wished things were that simple, but I knew, really knew, that they couldn’t possibly be.
‘Can you tell me one thing, Daisy? For today, just one thing. In fact, it does not even have to be said. Just a nod or a shake is all I need. Just tell me this. Do you really think that you are responsible for your dad’s crash?’
‘I know I am.’
She looked impressed that she’d dragged more than a gesture out of me. So much so that she shuffled closer, draping her arm around my shoulders.
‘Then we have work to do, because I know that it is not true. I have seen that you are many things, Daisy Houghton, but a killer you are not. And I promise we will break this belief down. That one day you will wake up and this thought, this belief you have, will seem so ridiculous, so laughable, that it will just crumble away in your mind. Do you believe me?’
I wanted to believe her, more than anything. But I believed in my own powers more. After all, it wasn’t just Dad who’d succumbed to them, was it?
At the same time, I could hear Patrick’s and Naomi’s voices too, reminding me that only Bex really understood us. Ade was calm and reassuring, but she was so together and at ease with everything that I didn’t see how she could possibly help me.
And so I answered honestly.
‘I don’t believe you, no.’
Her arm didn’t move from around me. If anything the hug got tighter and warmer, increasing my guilt.
‘OK, fine. I’ll just have to work harder, then, won’t I?’ She smiled again. ‘We both will. Come on.’
And before I could flick my cigarette over the edge of the cliff, we were back on our feet, eating up the coastal path, Ade with a new sense of purpose and me with a new sense of dread.