The trail, p.3
The Trail, page 3
‘I don’t know what to say,’ he says eventually, his eyes shimmering. ‘Can I see it?’
I unlock my phone and hand it to him, watching his reaction as he scrolls through the limited detail.
He drops to the wicker sofa across from me, and offers the phone back. ‘There’s no mention of Nora. It doesn’t say for certain that it’s her.’
I lean across and take the phone, skimming the words again to check that I haven’t imagined the whole thing.
‘True, but given where you all reported last seeing her…’ I leave the sentence hanging.
He presses a hand to his mouth in shock. ‘Have the police been in touch with you yet?’
I shake my head. ‘No, I literally received the email half an hour ago. I came straight here.’
He smiles warmly. ‘I appreciate you letting me know. I hope for your sake – for all our sakes – that you’re right.’
It’s a strange situation to be in. For any normal person, hearing that a loved one’s remains may have been found would be treated as a tragedy. But when that loved one has been missing with no explanation for thirty years, the prospect of closure feels like a blessing.
He points at my outfit, brow furrowed.
‘I’m almost reluctant to ask. Have you been working undercover in a mud-wrestling operation?’
I feel the corners of my mouth lift; he always knew how to lighten the mood.
‘I had a job interview down the road when Mother Nature decided to conspire against me.’
He sits forward, legs and arms apart. ‘An interview? For another periodical?’
‘I wish! No, at a call centre.’
He can’t keep the surprise from his tone. ‘Oh. I thought you were going to tell me one of those broadsheets finally realised your quality and had come begging for your services. Your talent is wasted down these parts.’
Bruce has been my biggest cheerleader for the last nineteen years. Even when he was coming to terms with his own identity, he has always championed my desire to write. And together, he and Paolo have reminded me that even in grief, the world keeps spinning.
He sits back in the chair, and pulls one of the brightly coloured cushions across his chest. His tan, which covers every inch of skin from the top of his clean-shaved head to his toes, is far too golden to be natural. The three days of heatwave last week wouldn’t have been enough to create such an even glow. I still remember a time when the thought of sunbeds, lurid shirts, and pierced ears would have felt alien to him. He’s come a long way since he returned from that trip to the States. Why haven’t I?
He purses his lips together. ‘I sense you’re waiting to ask me something. Don’t be shy. You know we have no secrets.’
I exhale sharply. ‘Tell me again the last thing you remember about her.’
He cocks his head and smiles empathetically. ‘I remember Nora was a funny, adventurous, and kind woman who loved you to pieces.’
Here we go again: always the same answer.
‘Then why, when I was only five, did she willingly leave me behind to go off gallivanting on some hike?’
I don’t mean to shout, but it still bothers me that she was prepared to go travelling for a month when I was at home and needed her. I’ve heard Bruce justify her actions countless times, but it isn’t good enough. I should have been her whole world.
He takes a minute before responding. ‘Your mum made an incredible sacrifice to help a family in desperate need. She didn’t take the decision lightly, and I can tell you she regretted not having you with her every step of that hike.’
‘Then why didn’t she take me out of school to go with her? It’s not like I wouldn’t have been able to catch up.’
‘She wanted to. Believe me! But your dad wouldn’t have it. He was the pragmatist in their relationship, and he knew Nora wouldn’t have been able to focus on the challenge and take care of you, which would have meant him flying over too, and there was no way he would have got time off work to do that.’
‘For years I hated her for going,’ I say, lowering my eyes. ‘It wasn’t fair that so many of you went over and she was the only one who didn’t return.’
Bruce doesn’t answer, but he stands and crosses the room, wrapping his thin arms around me, holding me close. ‘I can see how that wouldn’t have been easy for you. The whole community was desperate to help Ashley and her family; and you know your mum would’ve done anything for anyone, especially her goddaughter. I’m not exaggerating when I say Ashley wouldn’t have seen her fifth birthday if it wasn’t for that hike.’
‘I said some awful things to her the day she left.’
He kisses the top of my head. ‘I know, but she knew you didn’t mean any of it. You were upset because you were going to miss her, and I don’t think many moments passed when she wasn’t thinking or talking about you. She was so proud, and it’s only because she believed you were strong enough that she even contemplated going through with the challenge. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over words spoken in the heat of the moment. She knew you loved her, and she cherished you.’
‘Tell me what you remember about the days before you last saw her,’ I say, holding him tight so he can’t break free and avoid the subject.
‘Do we really need to go over this again? She was in a bad way; can’t we just leave it at that?’
I shake my head, my nose brushing against his shaved chest.
He sighs and I feel his frame slump. ‘We were nearing the end of our hike; we were only days away from ascending Mount Katahdin in Baxter National Park. We could almost see the peak from our camp; that’s how close we were.’
‘Was she excited about the hike ending?’
‘Of course she was. She was desperate for it to be over so she could get back to you and your dad. By that point, we’d all had to overcome various ailments: the norovirus, dehydration, swollen muscles and tick bites. Not to mention our encounters with wolves, and other wild animals. We were all ready for it to be over. Believe me, I could see how keen she was for it to be over.’
I pull myself away so I can look into his eyes. ‘You told the police that Mum went crazy in the days before she abandoned the camp.’
Regret fills his eyes. ‘Those weren’t my exact words. But, yes, something changed in her. At the time, I put it down to a negative experience with drugs.’
That’s something that’s never sat right with me. ‘Mum wouldn’t willingly take drugs. She was fervently against that kind of thing.’
‘As was I. But you have to bear in mind that we were all away from our everyday lives, and some of the group – Charlie in particular – were determined to make the most of it. We ended up at this festival in Darby, one of the towns near the AT, and it wasn’t until the day after that we realised that some of the food and drink there had been spiked. I never got to ask what your mum saw, but I’ve never forgotten the trippy shit I hallucinated. To this day, I wonder if it triggered something in her head, and that’s why she behaved the way she did.’ He sighs. ‘I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight.’
I know he blames himself for her disappearance, and I didn’t come here to try to make him feel bad. The love and support he’s shown me since more than clears his debt as far as I’m concerned.
‘Do you think they’re her remains?’ I ask.
He looks down at me, and I can see how torn he is. ‘I just don’t know. Would I like it for you to get the closure you need? Absolutely. But wanting something to be true, and it being true are different things, Jess. I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t pin your hopes on it being her. Can I be honest with you right now?’
I recognise the serious tone; it’s the same one he used when he broke the news that my dad had died. I nod, even though I’m already dreading what’s to follow.
‘You know how much I care for you, and so I say this out of love: stop chasing ghosts, Jess. You’ll never be able to move on with the future if you don’t let go of the past.’
I know he’s right, but the truth is, I can’t embrace the future until I know what happened to my mother.
5
NORA
September 1993, Hanover, New Hampshire, USA
While the others are arguing over how to divide the diner bill, Nora quietly leaves the table and settles with the waitress, leaving her a generous tip as a thank you. Then the four of them strap on their packs and head to the waiting taxi. It feels like cheating to hitch a ride to the handover point on the AT, but as Bruce is quick to remind them, given the mileage that is to come, there is no point adding bonus steps.
Nora can’t ignore the feeling of dread slowly spreading like the shadows overhead. The single-track road, which the taxi bounces along, is lined with the tallest trees she’s ever seen – maples, firs and spruces – and beyond the first three or four rows of trees there’s only darkness. She’s read up on the type of wildlife they should expect to see once the hike starts proper, but looking into the void, she can’t imagine how anything could survive out here.
‘Cheer up,’ Bruce whispers beside her.
She meets his stare and forces herself to smile thinly. ‘I’m fine.’
He maintains eye contact. ‘Can I let you in on a secret?’
She nods.
‘I’m desperate for a wee.’
She chuckles at this, her shoulders relaxing fractionally. ‘I warned you not to drink all that coffee!’
He crosses one leg over the other. ‘I was going to go when we’d paid the bill, but then—’
She pats his knee gently. ‘I’m sure we’ll be there soon enough.’
He pulls a face, and nods at a sign declaring the entrance to the trail in a mile, and then the reality of what they’ve agreed to do drops like a tonne of bricks. She pictures Jess sobbing and her heart breaks.
They are meeting the other group at the Lafayette Campground parking lot with the intention of following the trail up to Lonesome Lake. The other group will use the taxi to get back to Hanover and get cleaned up before catching their flights home. Nora’s never envied anyone as much. She reminds herself to think of Ashley, and the reason she agreed to this lunacy in the first place, but now that she’s reached this point of no return, she desperately wishes someone would give her the chance to bow out. If one of the others would just insist on continuing their hike, she could give up her place. A proverbial win-win. But she knows the chances of such a miracle are second to none.
The taxi parks, and the driver helps Charlie lift the enormous packs onto the rough, dusty ground while Bruce goes searching for a restroom.
Nora notices the drop in temperature the moment she opens the door. The sky is a quilt of mid-grey, and the earlier heat they experienced in the town centre has been replaced by a much cooler climate.
‘We need to get to some hut on the trail,’ Charlie states. ‘That’s where we’re supposed to be meeting the others. I don’t know about you guys, but I hope they’re not running late; I can’t wait to get started.’
Bruce secures his own pack, before helping Nora lift and secure hers. Despite the extensive training she undertook back in the UK, the bag feels heavier now, as if the weight of expectation and burden are sitting there along with her provisions.
‘You okay?’ Bruce checks.
She desperately wants to tell him how she’s anything but okay, but instead thinks about Ashley in the hospital bed, plastic tubes poking out in every direction. She nods.
‘The sooner we start, the sooner it will be done,’ she says.
The path up to the trail is lined with knobbly stones, and the cool breeze whips the dust around their feet, as if somehow trying to warn them of the dangers ahead.
At least it isn’t raining, Nora tells herself, more than aware of how much heavier their packs will become when soaked through. Small groups of hikers are gathered to their left and right, some exchanging stories about what they’ve faced, others excitedly chatting about what they’re anticipating.
This is like nothing Nora has done before, but she shares none of the excitement. Of the thousands of hikers who visit this part of the world every year, there can’t have been many Brits who’ve attempted to hike the trail. Sixteen other residents of Brighton and Hove have already completed their sections of the route, and now they will be the final four. What seemed like a crazy idea – a venture that Nora never believed would happen – is now upon them, and none of them can truly comprehend what the next month will bring.
The pathway is lined with wooden signs explaining where they are, what’s ahead, and statistics on the number of hikers who’ve trodden this same path. How many of those felt this level of dread?
A large sign hangs from a birch tree at the end of the pathway, declaring they are now officially entering the Appalachian Trail, and Nora is certain the temperature just dropped another degree. The knobbly rocks marking the defined pathway disappear, and she spots a white-painted rectangle on the bark at the end of the path.
‘Those are white blazes,’ Ken comments, pointing at the strange marking as he reads from the glossy pamphlet he’s been holding since the cab. ‘It’s to help hikers stay on the correct trail. These six-inch by two-inch markers have been painted onto trees every couple of metres in case one becomes disoriented.’
Nora and Bruce exchange looks, but don’t interrupt him. On the flight over, Ken told her he is a Scout leader and a master with a map and compass.
‘A team of volunteers freshen them on an annual basis, and there are literally tens of thousands of such markings on trees from Springer Mountain in Georgia, all the way to the top of Mount Katahdin.’
‘At least we won’t get lost,’ Charlie scoffs.
Famous last words, Nora thinks.
‘Here they are,’ a voice roars from somewhere ahead, though Nora doesn’t at first recognise the owner of the voice.
They’re due to be meeting Andy, Max, Simeon, and Joanna, but the four people sitting on the edge of a giant boulder look nothing like the people she met with at the multiple events leading up to this.
Bruce and Ken approach, while the group tentatively hops down from the boulder they were sitting on and limp over. Joanna Kocienski was already athletic-looking but the woman with the bandana tied around her muddy face is practically gaunt. Gone are the gold hooped earrings and long plastic nails. It seems an effort for her to raise an arm and wrap it around Nora’s neck.
‘Hello, stranger,’ she says, and Nora instantly recognises her working-class accent.
Nora returns the hug, but there’s nothing of her. Joanna looks as though she’s been held in segregation on basic rations for the last four weeks. The transformation is unbelievable. Surely this can’t be the same woman with whom she shared a bottle of chardonnay two months ago. Her daughter Becky is slightly older than Jess, and Nora can’t bring herself to ask how much she’s missed her.
‘Are you a sight for sore eyes,’ Joanna says, releasing her grip and studying Nora’s face.
‘Likewise. You look so… so different.’
Joanna lifts a clump of her mud-spattered fleece and says, ‘Reckon I’ve dropped a couple of dress sizes.’ She smiles. ‘How are you feeling about the hike?’
‘Can’t wait,’ Nora lies.
‘Believe me when I tell you it’s going to be nothing like you expect. Oh, and whatever you do with your food, make sure you keep some chocolate back. Over the coming days, there will come a point where you ask yourself exactly what you’re doing here.’
‘Think I’m already there,’ Nora quips.
‘No, I’m talking like seriously, you’re going to reach a point where you just want to give up and turn back. It happened to all of us, and no matter the cajoling you’ll just want to sit down and let nature decide your future. That’s the point when you need to pull out your secret stash of chocolate. You’ll need something to force you back to your feet.’
Nora gulps audibly. ‘Here I was hoping you’d tell me what a wonderful time we have in store.’
‘Oh, you’ll have a blast,’ Joanna quickly assures. ‘To leave everything behind and get back in touch with Mother Nature is so worth it. I think I was ready to give up after day three, but the chocolate and the others managed to get me straight. This has to be one of the toughest things I’ve ever done, but the sense of achievement is… it’s just…’
She can’t finish the sentence as her eyes fill and a sob catches in her throat.
Nora pulls her closer again and holds her as the tears flow.
‘I thought I was going to have to fight you off trying to take my place,’ Nora quips again.
Joanna shakes her head and composes herself. ‘You’re going to have such an amazing experience. Life changing!’
I’d rather not.
‘Any last-minute hints or tips you care to share?’
Joanna takes a step back and considers the rest of her group, who all appear to be swapping war stories with Bruce and the others.
‘When it feels like the worst it’s ever going to get, just remember you don’t know what’s around the corner.’
If the words were supposed to offer reassurance, they failed.
Andy, the tallest of the group, joins them, and beams. ‘I bet you can’t wait to get started.’
The first time Nora met this man from Johannesburg, she thought he introduced himself as ‘Indy’ as in Indiana Jones, but it wasn’t until several weeks later – and after she’d called him Indy multiple times – that she was corrected. He told her he was flattered by the comparison to the whip-cracking hero and the irony of how he now looks isn’t lost on her. No coat, despite the chill to the air, the chequered shirt is only fastened halfway, and his chin is coated in a thick band of salt and pepper stubble. With the beer belly significantly flattened, and the tortoise-shell glasses gone, he looks every inch the Hollywood action hero.
‘Have you warned her to steer clear of Snake and Weasel yet?’ he asks Joanna.
