Something Like Happy. Sasha Greene
a great place for the outdoors, but the night life wasn’t exactly buzzing, and he had been looking forward to doing a whole host of new things. So where had it all gone so wrong? What had happened in a year to bring him so low? It wasn’t anything specific really. More a series of small individual events that had finally driven home to him just how lonely he was. But actually, he could maybe pinpoint a couple of things that had been really pivotal. The walking group was one of them …
Nick stared at his computer screen. He was going crazy. Six months in Glasgow and he still hadn’t made any friends. None of his colleagues were even vaguely into the same things as he was. And that football club had just been full of students.
Scrolling through a web page, he finally found what he wanted. A walking group. It would be great to get out into the mountains again and this one looked very popular. It would be a good chance to meet some people who also liked walking. They had a walk planned this Saturday, so he signed up immediately, full of excitement.
Friday night he checked the weather. Beautiful sunshine. It couldn’t be better. The next morning bright and early he strapped on his walking boots, took his rucksack from behind the door where he had packed it the night before and set off to the station. He had brought his map just in case, although it looked like the organisers were very experienced. That was great. It meant that he could just relax and get to know the people in the group as they walked along. He rubbed his palms together, feeling a small twist of excitement at the thought of getting out into the countryside again.
When he got off the train at Helensburgh it was obvious who he should meet. A group of eight or nine people in outdoor clothes were standing around in the car park, and they were joined by some more people who had been on the train. Most of them looked like they were retired, but there were a couple of people who looked closer to his own age. He summoned his courage and went up to them. He had to start somewhere.
‘Hi. My name’s Nick.’ He held out his hand to one of the younger men, who was dressed in black walking gear.
‘Tony,’ the man said, grasping Nick’s hand firmly. ‘And this is Bill.’ He indicated the other younger man, who was sporting a very impressive beard above his warm red jacket. ‘We’re the leaders of the group.’
The other members introduced themselves. They all seemed very friendly and Nick felt his spirits lift. By the time they left the station there must have been at least twenty people with them. They walked up the road and out of the town. The sunshine seemed to be making everyone happy.
Nick found himself chatting to one of the older men, who said that he had joined the group when he retired. Apparently, Tony and Bill had only recently taken over the group after the previous leader had left. ‘We’re very lucky to have them,’ the man said. ‘They’re both qualified as mountain leaders.’
Nick felt a surge of happiness. He was back doing something he really enjoyed. They stopped for lunch on the top of a hill, sitting on a rocky outcrop of stone, and everybody exclaimed at the view all the way across the river. Some of the less fit people were congratulating themselves about managing the climb.
Nick took out his sandwich. The view was truly spectacular, and he could hear the singing of a skylark. He let out a deep breath, and then breathed in the freshness of the air. He was back where he belonged and days like this were just what he needed.
Glancing over to the west, he could see a front of cloud which looked pretty nasty. He gestured to Tony and Bill, who were sat not far away. ‘What do you think about that?’ He pointed at the cloud.
Bill looked over at it and shrugged. ‘Not an issue. The forecast says we’ll be long gone by the time that arrives.’
Nick wasn’t sure. He had learned from painful experience that you couldn’t take things like that for granted. As the group finished their lunch and started slowly down the far side of the hill, he kept glancing over his shoulder, still worried about the weather. About half the people didn’t have waterproof trousers. And a couple of them didn’t even have waterproof jackets. If that cloud rained down on them, they would be soaked to the skin in seconds.
And sure enough, an hour later the cloud was upon them, and a few minutes after that it started to rain miserably. The cloud was so thick they could barely see ten metres in front of them. Nick felt for his compass in his pocket, just to reassure himself. If they got into trouble in the mist then they might just need it. And his fancy GPS watch that his parents had given him last Christmas. He had been ecstatic when he had unwrapped it and grateful to his parents – those things were so expensive, and they really couldn’t afford it.
Bill and Tony gathered the group around them. ‘OK guys, we have to stick together. Keep sight of the person in front of you and check you can still see the person behind. The path is really clear, so we shouldn’t have any problems.’ They produced ponchos from their bags for the two without coats, which impressed Nick. Clearly these two made sure they planned ahead.
They trudged on, conversation less forthcoming now as they squelched through the mud. Nick had his head down, water dripping off the hood of his coat, and didn’t see the fork until he was almost on it. The people ahead of him had taken the right fork, which was the logical direction to turn back towards Helensburgh, but something just niggled at him. He lifted his map case and wiped the drops off it, so he could study it carefully. Yes, that was it. The bridge …
He hadn’t realised that he had stopped walking until he heard a small noise of surprise from the person walking behind him. Ahead the group members that he could see had stopped, obviously wondering what had happened. They came trickling slowly back in twos and threes, looking worried.
Bill came striding over. ‘What’s up?’
Nick pointed at the map. ‘I think we should take the left fork. It leads down to a bridge and we can take this as a short cut.’ He indicated a lane on the map. ‘The other way will take us at least two hours more than that.’
Bill snorted. ‘That would be true if we were there. But we’re not.’ He pointed at a fork much further back on the map. ‘We’re here. So we take the right fork here, and the left fork later on.’
Nick felt the colour coming into his face. Of course. He had misread the map. What a stupid thing to do. But … he studied the map again. He could have sworn that they passed that hill just before the clouds came down. His instincts were screaming at him and he just knew he was right. If it was just him, in his nice warm waterproof mountain gear, he wouldn’t have minded. But a couple of the group were starting to shiver, especially since they had stopped, and he felt like he had a responsibility to them.
‘Come on, Tony,’ he said. ‘Back me up on this one. We passed that turn ages ago.’
Tony shook his head, not even bothering to look at the map. ‘No, Bill’s spot on. Right fork is the way to go.’
Nick felt his face flame red. What should he do now? He was so convinced he was right, but what if he wasn’t? Was it worthwhile standing up for, just to get back a couple of hours earlier?
He looked at the group clustered around them. An extra two hours for some of them would make a big difference in this rain.
He grabbed Bill by the arm and steered him away from the watchful eyes. ‘Look, you know we passed that fork not long after lunch,’ he said, careful to keep his voice lowered so no one else could hear him. He had spoken without thinking, and the last thing he had intended was for this to become a public battle of wills.
Bill looked him up and down scornfully. ‘Tell you what, we’ll split up the group. You take half of them your way, and we’ll go the right way. We’ll meet at the café by the station and see who