Cat turned back to her. The retching had thankfully not taken a liquid form this time, but her sister’s tired face was clammy and slightly green. Cat nodded, then started opening pockets on her rucksack.
Ginny leaned back on her elbows and looked out at the mouth of the valley beneath. So much air. So much space. And below, a dizzying descent to oblivion. Or to the restaurant, at least. Although it was so far away from them now, she couldn’t quite believe they’d climbed so high.
A bird that looked like a buzzard swooped overhead, then dived deep below them. She thought back to the bird they’d seen earlier, on the other part of the mountain, where the rocks had slipped and Cat with them. Things could have ended very differently back there.
‘Do you get buzzards here?’ she asked Cat. ‘I thought you only got them in the desert where they ate dead camels.’
Cat nodded. ‘All sorts of things like that. I saw a kestrel earlier. Buzzards are really common in Europe. Not just in the movies.’
Ginny bristled at her tone. Cat was always patronising her. She couldn’t help it if she didn’t know as much as her clever-clogs sister. Mum and Dad had told her it didn’t matter anyway. That there were other ways to become successful in life. They were supposed to love both of their daughters equally, but she’d done her best to make herself the favourite. Dropping in little anecdotes here and there when she visited them for Sunday lunch and Cat didn’t bother to go – loads of people booked her for events on Sundays, she’d whine – and they’d let it go and spend all their time with Ginny, and that had suited her just fine. They knew Cat didn’t really need their help – hence the reason they’d changed their will to favour Ginny.
Ginny had always been good at getting what she wanted. She just hadn’t expected to get it so soon. She still couldn’t believe that her parents were gone. She missed calling them. She missed asking them things. They were the ones who had always given in to her. It was much harder with everyone else.
But Ginny had wanted Tristan from the moment she’d spotted him in the Perception Bar in the W Hotel in Leicester Square. She’d been on all sorts of forums, trying to find out the best place to meet a ‘man of means’， as her forum buddies were inclined to call the likes of Tristan – rich, good-looking, seeking a stay-at-home wife who didn’t ask too many questions. She’d been fine with the whole set-up until recently, when his recent – presumably current – dalliance started to take up too much of his time. She worried that he’d grown bored of her now, that he was on the lookout for wife number two. It happened, the forum buddies said, more often than not. Sure, she wouldn’t have to worry about money. But she didn’t like the thought of being rejected for a new model.
Cat handed her a box of plasters, just as the boys arrived back beside them. Neither of them looked happy.
Ginny peeled the backing off one of the large plasters and carefully positioned it over the worst of the burst blisters. ‘Just give me a minute,’ she said. Already forgetting that the reason for the return was not her, but Cat.
‘What’s up with you, Cat?’ Tristan crouched down beside them both. ‘You’ve been a bit out of sorts all day.’ He paused. ‘Do you think you can see this through?’
Paul snorted. ‘Have you looked around, Tristan? I don’t think any of us has a choice, do we? Given we’ve no way of summoning help.’
Tristan ignored him and laid a hand on Cat’s shoulder. ‘Do you need a hand?’
Paul stepped in, brushing Tristan out of the way. ‘I think I can help my own wife, thanks.’
Ginny watched Cat’s expression as her sister’s eyes flitted from one man to the other. ‘You might as well tell them,’ Ginny said. ‘They’ll find out soon enough.’ She rolled her socks back on and carefully slipped her feet into her trainers. It was better. Not perfect, but it would do. She could walk the rest of the way and still keep some of the skin on her feet.
‘Tell us what?’ Tristan said. ‘What’s wrong with her?’
‘Cat?’ Paul was crouched down beside her now, but Cat was already pushing herself up off the ground.
‘I’m fine.’ She glared at Ginny. ‘She’s being ridiculous. Let’s just go, shall we?’
Ginny smirked. ‘I’m being ridiculous? You’re the one who hasn’t bothered to tell their husband that they’re going to be a daddy.’ She flexed her feet inside her trainers, checking for friction. Much, much better.