Chapters (39)
- Cover
- Title
- Author’s Note
- Glossary
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Acknowledgments
“No! You’re not. It’s just I . . . I didn’t know you felt like that.”
“Nor did I, until recently. But let’s forget I said anything.”
“Well—”
“Unless you’d rather we didn’t? Forget, I mean.”
“No. I mean, yes. I don’t know what to say, Mark. I’ve never thought of you that way.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “That says enough. Says it all, really.”
“Mark—”
“No. Jeez, Clare. Don’t say anything more. It’s . . . it’s enough. I’m a klutz. I’ve got to go. See you around.”
He walked away, head bowed.
They didn’t run together again. Nor did she see him in lectures. She missed their runs. Their easy banter. About a month later, shortly before she packed up her room to go home, Clare saw him standing beneath the tree when she returned from her evening run. He was wearing boardshorts and flip-flops.
“Hey,” she said, smiling as she glanced at his feet. “You’ve given up running?”
He nodded. “Ja. It’s not for me.”
There was an awkward silence.
“I’m leaving tomorrow so I thought I’d come and see how you are. Say goodbye.”
“Oh. Wow. Thanks. I mean, I’m fine.” She rubbed her shoulder, suddenly aware it was stiff. “How are you? How were the exams?”
“All good. Thanks.” He lowered his head, raising his eyes to look at her. “You look—really well. Are you—”
“Yes. I’m getting there. I have my moments, but I think it’ll be okay.”
“Great. Look, I have to get going, but if you ever come to Durban . . .” Mark shrugged.
“I’ll look you up. We can go for a run.”
He looked away. “Sure. Bye, Clare.”
She drew in a long breath, checking it as the pain nudged her ribs. It took another moment before she was able to step-hop forward. Perhaps she’d contact Mark when she got home. But what would they have to say to one another if they couldn’t run? That was their thing. They ran. They talked. It stopped when he wanted more. No. She stopped it when he wanted more. Perhaps, if she wasn’t so afraid, they’d still be running and talking.
Afternoon slid towards evening. She limped on. Surely Faye would be looking for her by now? At her current pace, it would be dark well before she got to the Heuningbos. How she would manage the rocky path down to the stream in the fading light, Clare didn’t know. A spritz of liquid on her forehead made her look up. The mountains were shrouded in cloud. She untied her jacket from around her waist and put it on, groaning as she moved. The drops fell soft and steady.
Fourteen
Fourteen