CHAPTER 25
Mary was quite clear about things.

“I will be bypassing Kendal. It’ll be chocker with traffic; I mean, all of the towns will, but I’ll get this one out of the way first”

The countryside was starting to lift up properly now, and it wasn’t bloody raining for once., and Herdwick sheep started to appear in the fields, Jacky fascinated by their colour, We stayed on the A591 past Windermere station, where Mary called out, “This is Beatrix Potter country, Jacky. Her old home’s the other side of the lake”

“Who’s Beatrix Potter?”

That stumped both my wife and myself, so I mumbled something about Peter Rabbit and Jemima Puddleduck, and Jacky laughed.

“I know who she was, girls. Just a bit, well, twee for me. I was never into that sort of thing, Disney princesses, all that stuff. I liked westerns”

Mary sniggered.

“A whiff of the sage brush about you, Miss! Now, there is a simple walk to our right, gives a view of the lake, but time is passing. We’ll get views of it in a few”

And we did, running along its shore for a while, before the edge of Ambleside, where the traffic simply stopped.

“Is everything here made of stone?”

I was covering the tour guide role, as Mary stop-started-swore quietly through the town.

“Basically, yeah. It’s that sort of place. We’re on the edge of the higher peaks here, so it’s a bit, well, bleak in places. They built with what they had, and… yeah, there it is. The Bridge House”

“What the heck is that?”

“The Bridge House. From the sixteen hundreds. It is actually on a bridge over that stream. Local landowner built it to get to some of his orchards. That was a storehouse, ended up as a home for a family of eight. Just a tourist attraction now”

“Eight? In that?”

“Yup. Traffic’s easing; nearly out. Most of this lot will be driving round looking for somewhere to park. And that’s Fairfield ahead. Next bit of water is Rydal”

“The colours, Ellie! Can we stop, Mary, just to get a few shots?”

“Looking, but it’s difficult round here. Hang on… Yup”

There a small pull in on our left, just enough room for two cars, so we were fortunate that there was only one already in situ. Jacky got five minutes of snapping, and then we were once again on the move as I reeled off the sights.

“Next place is Grasmere, and that’s where the Wordsworths lived, and do not try that game or I’ll beat you with a bunch of daffodils”

Mary put a hand to my knee.

“Traffic’s not as bad as I had expected love, or at least not quite. Fancy a walk, if I can park?”

“Where to?”

“Easedale Tarn and back”

“Oh yeah! Not done that for ages”

“Yes, but not over into Langdale, love. Just to the tarn and back, okay?”

I grumped a little, but she was, of course, right. We found a space in Broadgate Meadow, and then it was time to christen Jacky’s new boots.

“What’s the walk like?”

“Out and back, pretty flat. What Mary was talking about was after; there’s like a dry waterfall thing, and if you go up it, it gets really wild. Takes you over to Stickle Tarn, Dungeon Ghyll and Langdale”

It was a delight being able to stretch out properly, and once we were onto the footpath rather than working through the lanes, Jacky was entranced.

“I mean, it’s not like Banff or that, but heck, this is lovely”

The late Summer had brought so many colours to the fellsides, and Easedale Tarn was a great splash of reflecting blue in a nest of brilliant green, the fells around brown, russet and grey. I showed her the slope I would normally have climbed for Langdale, and for just a moment I saw that spark in her, the need to just keep going wherever the path led, but she simply shook herself and smiled.

“Bite to eat when we get back to the Big City?”

Mary sighed.

“I shall be responsible, then, and not have beer”

Jacky looked at each other, grinned, and agreed to follow Mary’s lead. Pie and peas in a pub, with soft drinks all round, and then, yet again, back on the road.

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“This is a wrench, ey? I just want to stay here, see everything, but if I do that, no Scotland”

“We have a couple of days with Fran and Richard, Jacky. Time to see a bit more. Now, see those rocks up there? Big lump over a little lump?”

“Yeah…”

“Lion and Lamb”

“Got it!”

“Next water’s Thirlmere, fight under one of the highest mountains in England, Helvellyn”

Once again, Mary found a spot to pull over so that Jacky could get her snaps, and a short while later she turned off the main road.

“This one’s for me, love. My favourite place in the Lakes, so I am not driving straight past”

There was space in the lakeside car park, amazingly, and Mary led us down towards the lake, explaining about the old ‘portable’ theatre, sadly long gone, before giving Jacky yet another warning.

“I am going to say something, and you are not going to say ‘who’, Miss Bennings, not again. Two references, in fact. Swallows and Amazons, and Mahler”

Jacky laughed.

“Yeah, I know those books. Is this where, you know?”

“It is, where they were set and, I think, where they were written. We hired a boat here once, Ellie and me, and had a cruise round this end of the lake”

“Sailing or rowing?”

“Little motorboat. Ah—over there”

The look on Jacky’s face was so wistful I nearly laughed, but Mary had better control, or maybe deeper empathy, and simply reminded her that we did have a few ‘Lakes’ days ahead.

“And this is my treat, a treat for me, I mean, cause I love Keswick. We can come in one day, do some boaty stuff, if you like”

“I like! But what was that other thing? Mahler?”

“Oh, the Ken Russell biopic. It was filmed here. See that ridge over there? That’s Catbells, supposed to be the Austrian Alps in the film”

My wife was almost glowing with delight, so I stepped over to cuddle her, which brought a mutter of ‘Lezzers’ from some passing nobody, but did I care?

“Ice creams? I think we need them”

I had spotted a place I remembered, and through the window had seen the tubs. Real ice cream, in surprising flavours, in proper cones eaten sitting looking out over a boat-sprinkled lake, mountains soaring behind. If only I was on my bike. Jacky’s camera got another beating, while I watched chaffinches and—ooh! A twite! That was unusual, to say the least, but I was not going to complain. We finished our tasty treats (mango for me) and then, reluctantly, set out on the final stretch.

Past Bassenthwaite to Embleton, then bypass Cockermouth itself for Papcastle and Fran’s place, which had a double bloody garage. I was in the wrong job, obviously. Ewe sat in the car on the driveway, engine ticking as it cooled, and the front door opened to reveal a curly-haired brunette in glasses, sweatshirt and leggings. Mary waved happily, then tumbled out of the car for a hug, Jacky and I following a few seconds later.

“Welcome, all of you! Richard’s still at work, but we’re all set. Got a lamb joint in, unless anyone’s a veggie?”

We all shook our heads, and she grinned.

“That’s a bloody relief. Cuppa?”

We got a quick tour of the house (‘That’s your room, Jacky; Mary, in here. Loo’s there, other one’s at the foot of the stairs’) and then a welcome slump in comfortable chairs. Sitting in a car seat is not like relaxing in a proper armchair. Happy bum indeed.

We danced around heavy stuff, as Jacky described what she wanted to see and waxed extremely enthusiastic about the local area, while Fran looked smug, until we heard the front door once again, and we met Richard, who was exactly as I had imagined: long, lean and sharp-featured. Fran sorted him a tea as we all settled, then he grinned and looked straight at me.

”Conundrum, and I claim my five pounds”

I raised my cup in salute.

“And you?”

“Auk’ard”

“Ah! I had wondered. Girls, my username, handle, whatever on that forum is ‘Conundrum’, and I am guessing that Richard’s is a mash-up of A.U.K. and his name”

A nod from that man.

“Yup. Still got my six hundred to do for my SR, cause I DNF’d on the last attempt. Three Visitations. Igor and Keyman have invited me for the next PBP, so I need to get on a brevet, or look for a perm. Just one without excess Scenery”

Jacky shook her head.

“Excuse me, but I’m Canadian. We speak English; bit French, sometimes, but what the heck?”

“I looked over at Richard, who was sniggering.

“How long did you spend planning that one?”

“Clearly time well spent!”

“I’ll translate, then. Richard and I sort of know each other from an online forum. He is part of a sort of club, activity group, for long distance cyclists, Audax UK. Not racing, more reliability rides. You need to complete a series randonneur, pardon my French, an SR, which involves rides of one, two, three, six hundred kilometres in order to qualify for the French Ride, Paris Brest Paris, PBP. Richard Did Not Finish his six hundred because of three flat tyres, so he is looking for a reasonably flat organised group ride or an approved permanent route. Did I get it all, Richard?”

“Almost, Ellie. Igor and Keyman are two others on the forum. I think Ellie knows them in real life”

“They’re two of my friends near Gatwick, love”

“Who was out at York this year, Ellie?”

I took a glance at my wife. My turn.

“Ocelot; Pekoe, Union, their son and his girl; Dykotic, her wife and daughter; Firestarter and Fifif; Hubster; Campy; Deserted and Petard; loads more. And Judy, of course. Igor and Keyman didn’t come, cause Curio and Hairy were both working”

“Usual thing with Jude? Chocolate croissants?”

“Mary chuckled.

“And snoring. Why Conundrum, love?”

“Jan Morris, Mary. Her autobiography”

“And I am going to take a very, very obvious punt here: would this Dykotic be a rather tall woman with bright red hair? Called Ginny?”

“Absolutely!”

“I am guessing the Union pair are Karen and Terry, and… Got one. Sandy? Deserted?”

She turned back to Richard.

“Sandy and Greg stayed with us just after Ellie got home. Bloody loons, camping in Winter”

I called out, “White Mark site” to Richard, and he just said, “Wild animal sex?”

“I assume so. You were saying, love?”

“Not going to try and guess ant more of them, but I am intrigued. You two have literally just met, but you’re prattling away like old mates. When Fran said you already knew about Ellie, I was a bit sideways”

Richard set his cup down.

“It’s simple, Mary, in essence. We have, well, we don’t advertise it, but there’s part of the forum for more private stuff. The mods keep access controlled to, well, those we know and can trust. Ellie was posting on there. We’d already had Sandy, and then we had Curio—her name’s a pun on ‘copper’. Sandy and Curio both sort of disappeared then returned; Ellie talked us through things”

Mary gave me a sharp look, so I took her hand.

“We weren’t talking then, love, at least not meaningfully. I needed to find someone who could listen”

Richard shook his head, looking miffed.

“And bloody worry, Ellie. You have no idea how many people thought you wouldn’t be coming back from Australia”

Mary gave her head a shake, then squeezed my hand.

“Me included, Richard. Neither of us was in a good place, nor talking sense, never mind to each other”

“Hi! I’m Jacky, and I’m Canadian, so we have to be nice or they take away our poutine. Heavy shit, ladies, Richard, so I am changing the subject, as we are now very much in a Good Place right here and now. What do you do, Richard, apart from cycle?”

“Oh, I work for Jennings, one of the strategy leads”

That explained a double garage house in the Lakes, then. I was more than envious.

“What does Jennings do, ey?”

Richard smiled happily.

“Well, I shall show you in a while, as I have a quantity of our produce in the shed. Snecklifter do you, Ellie?”