“What about Derek?” asked Clare, not wanting to wallow. “Is he okay?”

“Don’t worry about the others. They’ll be fine.”

Clare exhaled, closing her eyes as if to shut out the pain. Faye picked up the tablets from the spot where she’d left them that morning. The food and water hadn’t been touched either.

“Let’s get these down you and, if you can, you should eat,” she said, tipping two of the pills into her hand. “I’ll tell you everything when that’s done. Here.”

Clare glanced at the tablets and the scratches on Faye’s neck. “We should share them.”

Faye shook her head with a small smile. “I’ll be fine. If all I have is a few scratches to trade for everything to work out for us, I’ll gratefully accept them.”

When, after she’d given her the pills and fed Clare, Faye lay down with a noisy sigh, it dawned on the young woman how exhausted her companion must be.

“How was the hike? Difficult?” she asked.

“Not really. Long though. It’ll be dark soon.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Everything I’ve put you through,” she said. “Talk about a dream hike being hijacked by someone who wasn’t even meant to be part of it.”

Faye placed her hand lightly on Clare’s arm. “It hasn’t gone as planned for anyone. You recover and I’ll tell you the subplot about this trip.”

“Subplot? What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say I’ve learned some things about myself over the past two days.”

“Oh?”

Faye was silent.

“I’ve learned some stuff about myself, too,” said Clare.

“Good things? Helpful things?”

“Hmm. Perhaps. Surprising things, for sure.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, it might be useful to be able to be alone, but it’s not necessarily preferable.”

“Ah. That’s significant. Are you thinking of anyone in particular?”

“Possibly. Though I’ve probably blown that chance.”

“How so?”

“I have, or rather, I had a friend, a running friend. Mark. We ran together for almost two years at uni. Every day almost. We talked a lot. At first, he talked and I listened. Then I also talked. We ran and talked.”

“That’s impressive. Running and talking.”

“The thing is, I could talk to Mark about anything. When you run and talk, you don’t look at one another. It makes it easier.” Clare thought, but didn’t say, like it is for us now; lying here, looking up into the leaves and branches, not at one another.

“I know what you mean,” said Faye. “Talking while you’re doing something together is easier. Zach and I have the best conversations when we’re cooking together. Usually breakfast. There is something more natural about talking while you’re busy than when you’re sitting staring at one another in an intense, dedicated kind of conversation set-up.”