Page 9 of Runner 13

Adrienne

I take the long way back to my tent from registration, trying to avoid running into anyone I know.

Although I want to find Pete, I’m in no hurry to bump into other elites.

I prefer the anonymity of being amongst the fun runners.

Most people are already wearing their race numbers, bibs pinned proudly to the front of their moisture-wicking tops.

But I’ve buried mine deep in my backpack.

Even more reason to find Pete. He’ll know what to do.

I hope he’s OK. The doctor, with his concerned frown, has me worried.

This is the first race we’ve started together since we split up almost a decade ago.

Despite my nerves about competing against him, I’m glad we’re here together.

It feels right somehow. After all, racing was how our relationship had begun.

Supporting each other. Driving to remote trailheads in the early hours of the morning.

At checkpoints he’d be waiting for me with a bowlful of reheated spag bol, a steaming-hot coffee and a Cadbury’s Fruit she is the one taking his sadness away now.

My stomach twists in pain; it feels like betrayal, even though it shouldn’t. My intake of breath must have made a sound, because Pete’s eyes slide over and catch mine.

Shit. I wish the desert would up and swallow me whole. I spin round and power-walk away – even though there’s nowhere for me to go.

I hear Pete calling after me. ‘Adri, wait!’

I slow down. We’re about to spend the next five days together. It’s time to be a grown-up. I spin round and hold my head up. But my eyes don’t land on him. They land on her.

Stella.

She trails behind Pete by a few steps. She doesn’t look shy, though. She’s jutting out her chin – a bit too much, in fact. Maybe it’s an effort for her like it is for me. To show that we’re not bothered about seeing each other again.

‘Something terrible has happened,’ Pete starts.

That grabs my attention. ‘What? With Ethan?’ My pulse races.

‘No, no, nothing like that. No – it’s me.’ His shoulders slump. ‘The mandatory drug test. I’ve failed it. They’re sending me home.’

I blink back my surprise. ‘Oh my God, Pete! Are they sure? Did you ask them to check it again?’

‘Yup. But they won’t change their decision. Rules are rules.’

‘But you didn’t …?’

‘Of course not. It’s a fucking outrage. Some kind of fix. I don’t know if it’s because I’m engaged to his daughter but …’ Realization dawns on his face as he takes in my expression. My face stings like I’ve been slapped. ‘Oh God, Adri, I’m not thinking. This is –’

‘Stella,’ I say, cutting him off. I swallow, unable to catch my breath, trying to hold on to my dignity.

By contrast, Stella is the picture of composure.

She hasn’t changed much over the years – still stunning, tall and willowy like a model.

Physically so like her sister. But their personalities couldn’t be more different.

Yasmin would never look down on me the way Stella does.

She makes me feel small – and not because of our height difference.

‘Adrienne, hi.’

Pete stares between us. ‘You know each other?’

‘From a long time ago,’ Stella says.

‘So you two are –’ I gesture between them – ‘engaged?’

‘Yeah. I’m sorry, Adri, I didn’t want you to find out like this.’ He intertwines his fingers with hers. ‘I asked her to marry me yesterday.’

My mouth feels bone dry, my tongue thick. ‘Wow. Congratulations. I had no idea you were even seeing someone, Pete. How long have you been together?’

‘On and off – what’s it been?’ He looks at Stella. ‘Years?’

‘Years,’ she repeats.

‘Long distance most of the time. Stella lives in California.’

Every sentence feels like a little kick to my gut.

But at least all the times Pete begged me to switch weeks with Ethan so he could go and run in America make sense.

‘But I’ve finally been able to get her to settle down.

’ He lifts her hand, where – sure enough – a diamond catches the sunlight, and kisses it.

Questions flood my brain. How did I not even know he was dating, let alone in a relationship this serious?

Have I been that wrapped up in my own issues?

Has Stella told him how she and I met? Was she already dating him when she met me in Ibiza?

But one question stands up above the rest. ‘Does Ethan know?’

Stella answers before Pete can. ‘We wanted to wait until we took this step.’ She strokes Pete’s arm. ‘But I’ve heard so much about him. I can’t wait to meet him.’

I bite my lip. How can they be planning a life together when she doesn’t even know Pete’s son? But Pete has that puppy-dog look in his eyes. He is smitten.

‘This isn’t how I wanted this introduction to go, but maybe it’s for the best,’ Pete says. ‘Maybe now we can leave together.’

I stiffen. ‘Leave?’

‘You can’t stay here on your own, Adri.’

‘Why not?’

‘Come on. Who’s going to look out for you?’

Pete’s audacity shocks me. That he still thinks he has a say. I think of the handsome doctor who treated me. Maybe I should go and get his number. ‘I can take care of myself.’

Stella turns to Pete. ‘I’m not leaving either.’

‘What?’ Pete looks like he’s about to explode. This is a lovers’ quarrel I don’t need to be in the middle of. He’s not going to be any help to me. He’s not even going to be at the race any more.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ I mutter, and I notice that neither one of them protests.

Pete is furious. Stella defiant.

As I slip away, my mind is still reeling. Pete and Stella. Stella and Pete.

‘Adrienne?’ Someone shouts my name from the next tent over.

I glance back. Jason – the podcast guy – runs up beside me.

I stiffen, my shoulders tight by my ears. ‘Not now.’

He holds his hands up. ‘I know, I hear you. I get it. I’d leave you alone if I felt like I could. Just five minutes …’

‘I’m here to race, that’s it. I don’t have five minutes.’ A crowd of photographers and media have gathered by tent number two, where Rupert holds court, and a man carrying a huge video camera on his shoulder blocks my path. I dodge out of the way, but Jason still follows me.

‘Please, it’s important. I have something to show you. You’ll want to see it.’

I sigh. ‘What?’

He glances over at the documentary crew. In his hands he’s got a red spiral-bound notebook, which he grips tight. ‘Not here. Come with me.’

‘No, I can’t right now.’ I want to be alone.

‘After dinner, meet me?’

‘OK!’ I say, exasperated, desperate to get this guy to leave me alone.

‘Promise?’ He wipes away a few beads of sweat from above his eyebrow.

I walk away without answering. I don’t want to be dragged into Jason’s podcast; it took everything I had to get them to leave me alone the first time. It was hard enough getting up the courage to come here. I want to concentrate on my why: the answers promised by Boones.

Jason reaches out, grabbing my arm. I twist away, but he only holds on more forcefully. I almost scream, but the look in his eyes stop me.

‘It’s about Ethan, OK?’

I feel the blood drain from my face, my insides turning to liquid. There’s no trace of a lie that I can see. No trickery.

‘You were right all along. It wasn’t a random accident. And I can help you prove it.’

‘Show me,’ I say, my previous reticence forgotten.

But then the camera I dodged earlier is suddenly right in my face. ‘Adrienne Wendell?’ a young woman asks, standing behind the cameraman’s shoulder. ‘I’m Jackie Henman from OutRun Productions – we’re doing a documentary on the race. How does it feel to be Boones’s runner thirteen?’

‘Excuse me, I was in the middle of –’

Jason sneaks behind the camera and mouths ‘Later’ at me. He lifts his notebook, pointing to it.

I nod, following him with my eyes as he retreats. Then Jackie asks me another question, and, just like that, I’m sucked back into the vortex of being in the public eye.