Читать книгу Ours is the Winter: a gripping story of love, friendship and adventure - Laurie Ellingham, Laurie Ellingham - Страница 14
ОглавлениеMolly
‘Well this is luxurious isn’t it?’ Rachel said as she patted the thin mattress on the top bunk. The wooden hut was a small square room with two sets of bunk beds and an out of use metal heating furnace that was doing nothing to take the edge off the biting cold night air. On closer inspection, the furnace had a thick layer of dust covering its body and didn’t appear to have been used recently, or ever, as far as Molly could see.
‘It’s actually pretty comfortable,’ her boyfriend said, lying down on the bottom bunk below Rachel.
‘I think if you wanted luxury you may have come on the wrong trip,’ Erica said with a smile. ‘I bet by the end, this hut will feel pretty luxurious.’
‘At least we haven’t got twin-dle-dumb and twin-dle-dumber in our group.’ Rachel laughed to herself and glanced at the others.
The anger that had been simmering under the surface of Molly’s skin since the airport exploded to the top. ‘Oi.’ The shout left her lips and was bouncing around the hut before she could stop it. Molly threw her rucksack onto the top bunk of the bed opposite Rachel and felt the rage run free through her body. The rucksack landed with a thud, the only noise in the stunned silence of the cabin.
Molly spun around and glared at Rachel. She was one of those petite types, with a self-confidence that wafted in the air like sickly perfume. Molly could see it in the tilt of Rachel’s perfect button nose and the swish of glossy cropped air. Rachel thought she was better than Molly, better than everyone.
Molly balled her hands into two tight fists, clenched so tight her fingers dug painfully into the palms of her hands. She forced the screaming anger down before she spoke so that her voice was little more than a hissed whisper. ‘Harry and Frankie climbed Mount Kenya last year, and trekked to Everest base camp the year before that. I’d much rather have them on my team than any of you.’
Another moment of silence passed over them all. Molly could feel Erica’s presence behind her, hovering like a bodyguard, or a referee, who at any moment would step in and put a stop to the exchange. Molly resisted the urge to tell her to shove her backup up her own arse.
‘Sor-rey.’ Rachel raised her eyebrows. ‘I didn’t realize they were your friends.’
Rachel pulled out a red polka dot wash kit from her bag and sauntered to the small washroom.
‘They’re not,’ Molly muttered under her breath as the door to the washroom slammed shut.
‘You OK, Mol?’ Erica asked, her voice heavy with a concern that made the acid inside Molly’s body hiss and bubble. A sharp pain stretched horizontally across the space behind Molly’s lower ribs. What right did Erica have to be concerned about her?
‘Fine,’ she replied. ‘I just don’t like bitches.’ She raised her voice at the last word, hoping it would carry through the door and to Rachel’s ears.
The boyfriend – Noah – sat up from the bottom bunk and swung his legs around to sitting. A second later his head hit the wood of the top bunk with a clonk. He rubbed at a spot on his forehead as he spoke. ‘Hey, Sheffield right?’ he said.
‘So?’ Molly shrugged.
‘I thought I recognized your accent. Me too. I mean, I live down south now but I grew up in Sheffield. My family still live there. I’ve been thinking of moving back actually.’ All of a sudden Molly caught the deep inflections of the South Yorkshire accent.
‘Whereabouts?’ Noah asked. ‘I thought there was something familiar about you. I wonder if we’ve met before.’
Is that why you bogged at me in the airport then? ‘Walkley,’ she muttered.
‘Hey, that’s only twenty minutes from me. I’m Dore.’
Figures, Molly thought, taking in the styled blond hair and light tan. His eyes were small but an intense dark blue. He had the peppy posh boy look down to a tee. Another ‘I’m better than everyone else’ type.
She shrugged again, before clambering onto the top bunk and digging in her bag for her iPod Shuffle. There was something unnerving about Noah. The way he’d looked at her in the airport, and again in the tent when they’d picked up their sleeping bags and clothes. On both occasions the intensity of his stare had caused a shiver to race down her spine. It was as if he was looking straight into the lava of anger that flowed like blood through her body. How did he do that? What was he staring at?
The sound of a tap running from the bathroom filled the silence.
‘Rachel was just blowing off steam.’ Noah’s voice floated up to Molly. ‘She comes across a bit harsh, but she just says stuff without thinking sometimes. She’s nice when you get to know her.’
‘Whatever,’ Molly said.
Erica leant on the bunks and touched Molly’s arm. ‘Are you all right on the top? I’m happy with either.’
The anger welled again. ‘Can you not?’ Molly sighed, unravelling her headphones and stuffing them into her ears.
‘Not what?’ Erica asked.
‘Can you not pretend to care?’
‘What are you talking about? Of course I care.’
‘Yeah right.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Erica’s voice was no longer soft and quiet, but harsh. Angry.
Good. You’re angry. Join the sodding club.
‘Oh come on, it’s not like we grew up together. We saw each other twice a year in the school holidays, and that was only because my mum arranged it all. Anyway, if you cared so much where have you been for the past year? You have no idea –’ Molly stopped talking, suddenly aware of Noah’s presence in the room and the hot tears building behind her eyes. A shiver broke out over her skin as if the emotion bottled inside was breaking through the surface. Don’t cry, Mol. The last thing she wanted was for Erica to see she cared about their relationship, about any of this, because she really didn’t.
‘How can you say that? You’re the one who never answers the phone. I have been here the whole time.’
Molly gave a scoffing snort. ‘Just like you were there for Billy.’ Her voice cracked, betraying her emotion.
‘What? How can you even suggest …’ Erica shook her head. ‘He was my brother too.’
‘Half-brother,’ Molly hissed.
‘Oh right, so I’m only allowed to be half as sad as you then. Is that how it is? Never mind the fact that I saw Billy a lot more than you did in the last five years. What is it I did to you? Why are you being like this? We used to be pretty close, if you remember?’
‘Never mind.’ Molly bit off the words, hating herself for saying anything at all – to Rachel or Erica. ‘Forget it, OK? Just don’t pretend that we’re anything more than strangers. It’s annoying and stupid.’
‘Why did you agree to come then?’ Erica asked, her voice laced with hurt.
‘I wish I hadn’t,’ Molly mumbled, turning towards the wall as a single tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek. There was no escape.
‘I wish you hadn’t either,’ Erica fired off the reply.
Molly powered on the iPod and a moment later the soft piano notes and mournful voice of Adele filled her ears and travelled down to her heart, where they lay like bricks on her chest. Why did you have to go and get yourself killed, Billy?