They’d parked at Scales and were trekking up the gruelling pathway up the east side of Blencathra. It was known as the dullest route up the beautiful mountain, but when one was fell running, the path underneath was irrelevant; getting one’s breath was the only thing of vital importance. The track was a brown scar in the hillside, not visible from the road due to its savage gradient. It led upwards through bracken, zig zagging from the base, right up to where the summit could be viewed from the first rest point. Rest was a relative word, given that the ‘run’ was vertical in places and their feet barely scraped one in front of the other as their hearts beat out of their chests.

The late afternoon sun beat down on their backs and they wore few layers. Kelly wore shorts and a T-shirt, knowing that her skin would boil and her pulse would pound until they reached a let-up in the terrain, perhaps two thousand feet up. Johnny was the fitter of the two, having done the Lakeland 100 earlier in the year – a hundred-mile fell race with a total of about four thousand feet elevation. He kept a steady pace and looked as though he was bounding up the hill with ease. Kelly knew he wasn’t but let him go ahead anyway. Ease wasn’t something that was possible with geographical features such as mountains. She concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other and staying just ahead of a walking pace. It was more like a trot. She felt her body respond well but it also gasped for air and her thighs screamed.

Finally, they reached a plateau and Johnny stopped ahead of her, taking a water bottle out of his bag. She reached him and took her bag off her back and looked at the view below. The sky was deep blue and the sun was just dipping over the Irish Sea. Her chest heaved and she gulped water gratefully. She wiped her brow and looked at Johnny, who beamed back at her. There was nothing like it: pheromones made you grin.

‘So, what’s with the climbing wall?’ she asked.

‘I reckon she fancies a guy there. There’s no other explanation.’

‘Oh, those were the days. It was all so simple. No mortgage, no bills, no family woes. Just lust. Bliss.’

‘Hang on,’ Johnny put up his hand.

‘Oh, come on, Johnny. She’s almost sixteen. Have you had “the talk”?’

‘No!’ He screwed his face up.

‘You have to!’ Kelly said.

‘Can you do it?’

She thought about his request. She guessed that Josie was the closest she’d get to having a daughter and she had no hang-ups about sex. It might be quite fun.

‘All right.’

‘Good luck,’ Johnny said.

‘Lightweight.’