Everything is a Choice

Chapter 29

Previously...

Behind me, I can hear someone running and guess it is Much. He hates not knowing what I'm up to.

I keep going. Moments later, I realise it's not Much but Guy. I know it's him not only because he calls my name, but also because of the way he runs. He's run the same awkward way since he was a boy.

"Robin! Stop! Where are you going?" 

He will not catch up with me, I think. He is still too weak and he is not as fast as I am, never has been. He also doesn't know the forest as I do. He will soon get lost.

And that is what I should do: get lost and stay lost.

Forever.

Chapter 29

The running helps. Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, on not tripping over tree roots or fallen branches or plunging into a hidden bog, helps keep my wretched thoughts at bay.

I speed past Dan Scarlet's carved likeness, eerie-looking in the twilit forest. Guy is still chasing me, calling my name, but his shouts are growing more distant as I continue to outrun him.

As I pass the poxy cave, as Much calls it, I think about holing up in there. I change my mind, recalling the last time I'd been in that cave, struggling to tell Marian that I loved her as she lay injured and, as I thought at the time, dying. I can't bear to be anywhere that reminds me of the woman I promised to love forever and have betrayed in the worse possible way.

My breaths are blowing out in raspy puffs and my throat is as dry as age-old parchment. I should take a breather. Up ahead is Dead Man's Crossing.

Guy calls, "Robin. Please. Stop," his words punctuated by harsh coughs.

I reach the big twisted oak marking the crossroads, lean against it. I wonder whether it would be better to stay here and let Guy catch up with me. We need to talk, after all, and running will solve nothing.  However, I'm not great when it comes to talking about matters of the heart and I can't believe Guy is much better. So where will that leave us? Will we carry on where we left off earlier: him on his knees and me with my breeches around my ankles, here in this chilly, near-dark forest?

The thought sickens me, just as the thought of one of the gang stumbling across us, the way Matilda had, sickens me.

I push off from the tree and start running again.

By the time I reach a part of the forest I am less familiar with, I can no longer hear Guy.

It's fully dark now and I can hardly see my own hand when I hold it out in front of me. I slow down, realising the madness of running fast when I can't make out the path properly. The last thing I want to do is to trip up and injure myself or knock myself out. What I need now is shelter. Late autumn still offers some mild days, but the nights are cold. I don't even have a cloak to keep me warm.

I look around, trying to work out where I am and realise I'm heading in the direction of Kirklees Abbey.

At this time of night, the monks will have locked the abbey. I'm not sure I want to go inside in any case. Somehow, I don't think God will look too happily upon this sinner, even if I were to confess my sins and ask for absolution. But the abbey has barns where I can spend the night. Tomorrow, I will think about Guy, who, if he has any sense, will have headed back to the camp or found somewhere else to shelter for the night. Please God, he doesn't end up at Kirklees. I have no wish to deal with him tonight. Tonight, I want to sleep – alone.