‘Oi,’ Cat shouted, ‘bring your phone back, Gins. We’re leaving in a minute and I want to lock them in the glove box.’
Ginny stomped back towards the car and held out the phone. ‘I’ve messaged Lauren to tell her we’re going on this stupid hike and if she doesn’t hear from me by this evening, to call the police.’
Tristan overheard. ‘You’ve done what? You know what Loopy Lauren’s like – she probably bloody will and we’ll end up with a rescue squad and a massive fine for wasting police time.’
Ginny laughed. ‘I’m joking. I didn’t message her. God, can you imagine?’
Cat felt a small flutter of worry in her stomach. Ginny’s best friend, Lauren, was twice as flaky as Ginny, and would take massive pleasure in alerting the authorities if she didn’t hear back at exactly the specified time. Once, when she and Ginny had been on a weekend in the Cotswolds and realised the gentle walk they’d taken was too long, she’d called the police and asked them to take them back to the hotel because they were worried about heat exhaustion.
‘Oh dammit – it won’t send.’ Ginny held her phone up in the air. ‘I can’t believe there’s no reception here.’ She held out her phone to Cat. ‘Actually, I don’t think she’s even around. I think she was flying out to Australia today.’ She frowned. ‘I wish I’d bloody gone with her.’
Cat took Ginny’s phone. Good. Lauren was out of the picture, it seemed. She held out her hand, and Tristan and Paul dutifully handed their phones over, too. She left them all to it for a moment, Ginny starting up some other story that would no doubt infuriate Paul further. He’d been quiet since his earlier outburst and Cat was hoping the fresh air would calm him down.
Cat slid into the passenger seat and opened the glove box, depositing Paul and Ginny’s phones inside. She held Tristan’s phone in her hand; it was smeared with fingerprints. Twisting around in her seat to make sure the others were all still distracted, she opened his up and scrolled for a moment, marvelling at his lack of security. Then she checked her own phone one final time, tapping out a quick message before sliding both phones in beside the others and locking the small compartment. She lifted the central armrest and dropped the key inside, covering it with a bunch of leaflets, then climbed back out of the car.
‘Right, are we all set?’ Tristan was standing with his hands on his hips. He had the map around his neck on a lanyard.
Cat’s fingers went to her own neck, to the small round silver pendant on a leather cord. It had come on a thin silver chain but she’d thought it would snap. Besides, she liked the leather more. She wasn’t really a sparkly jewellery type, but the pendant was also a fitness tracker – she’d got it to replace her usual wrist-worn one. This one had GPS and measured elevation as well as steps. She turned the pendant over in her fingers for a moment, then slipped it inside her t-shirt to make sure it was safe.
‘Ready,’ Cat said. She held out a hand, almost took hold of Paul’s out of instinct, but then stopped herself. He looked pleased for a moment, before his face fell as she quickly stuffed her hands into her pockets.
‘Cat . . . are we going to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you? Are you going to tell me what I’m supposed to have done?’
She forced a smile. ‘Sure. Later.’
Paul shrugged, then walked on ahead. She headed over towards Tristan – who took Ginny’s elbow, and the four of them headed off towards a gravelly path. Ginny was chattering again, but they’d all zoned her out now. Tristan was pointing off ahead, at something Cat couldn’t yet see from her position behind him.
As they reached the peak of the short incline, two men appeared, heading directly for them. They looked a bit older than them, maybe in their mid-forties, and they had the gear and the kind of rugged, weathered faces that suggested they were seasoned hikers. They were both carrying rucksacks with walking poles strapped across the top and, as they drew closer, Cat caught their warm body scents of sweat and pine.
‘Bonjour,’ called the one in the red jacket, which, closer up, she could see was deeply soaked with sweat. The men stopped walking and took in their little group. ‘You speak English?’
‘Yep, hello,’ Cat said, stepping forward alongside Tristan and Ginny. ‘We’re over from London for the weekend. Lovely day for it.’
The one in the blue t-shirt grimaced. ‘Have you done this route before?’