Lizzie

She had three more stops, two to do some drawing and one to finish the food she'd brought for the day, before she reached the end of her day's walk, at a quarter to five. The place she'd found online was as nice as it had looked in the pictures, and the room they gave her was roomy and comfortable. She put her luggage on a rack and had a quick shower. Then she changed into a fresh t-shirt, took a small bag from her rucksack and headed for the pub with a book she'd brought. Her e-book ought to be recharged, and she didn't feel like bothering with it. She could do so later. The book was second hand and nice enough but not the kind she'd want to keep forever, so she could just leave it behind when she'd finished it. She'd probably find another one on the way that she could give the same treatment. She grinned and entered the pub. It was a modern building with a lot of tables, that seemed to aspire to being a restaurant. She had quite a nice meal, even though the kitchen was not as good as at the Royal Oak. Oh well, it was hot and nourishing and the bitter she'd ordered for a change was really good.

She finished her food and sat back, looking at the people come in for a drink. There weren't any people she'd fancy talking to, so she opened her book and started to read, enjoying the story and her drink in equal measure. She had a second drink and then she headed back to the B&B. Nine thirty - time to go and have some sleep!

IV

The walk progressed steadily. Everything went according to plan, and she soon found herself nearing the place where they had had to give up, all those years ago. Tonight she would get there - entirely new terrain tomorrow! It felt exciting. She was looking forward to the last part; so far the walk had really been a trip down memory lane, and there was the lure of new and fresh vistas ahead. She sometimes wondered how it would have been if Zeb had been alive. But she supposed that they would not have got round to it then - she was more organized than he had been, and more inclined to tell herself to go and do things.

Not that she overdid it - it was just that she liked to make the most of the things she could do. Always. She painted that way, and she had loved Zeb like that... Improve each shining hour! Well, she had, and she would. She consulted her map. Two more miles till her next stop, two more miles of known territory. Tomorrow she would embark on the part they had not managed to do. It would be very nice!

She walked briskly on, and she was at her next stay well before five. She recognized the place immediately; it had been warm and welcoming back then. They'd arrived in the pouring rain, wet to their underwear and not caring a hoot. It had been nice to be there and dry their things. The lady who ran the place had made dinner for them, as it wouldn't do to send them out into the thunderstorm again.

It was dry now, a beautiful warm autumn day, and there was no need to stay indoors. Yes, there was a pub nearby. It was only ten minutes on foot. Could she manage, or would she like the owner to take her there? She appreciated the offer but declined with a smile. Ten minutes would be quite alright. It was a nice pub. It was quite busy, and she stood looking around for a place to sit when to her surprise she saw Jane Carlton wave at her.

"Lizzie!" she said. "Won't you join me?"

Lizzie grinned and nodded. She walked over to where Jane was sitting and the two women shook hands.

"One moment, please, so I can order. Can I get you anything?"

Jane said she was fine and Lizzie ordered a kidney pie with vegetables and chips, and a glass of cider. Then she sat down to a really nice talk. Jane proved to be an entertaining talker, and a friendly woman, and she apparently liked Lizzie's company just as much. She nodded when Lizzie told her about the walk and the reason why, and Jane wished her a great walk. Then she took her bag from the windowsill she'd put it on.

"Look," she said. "They've done a wonderful job printing our book! I got it yesterday, so your copy must be at your place too, I suppose. Isn't it great?"

Lizzie took it and slowly turned the pages. Jane was right. The printers had made a very thorough job of it. The delicate colours of her originals came across very well indeed.

"Wonderful!" she agreed, and smiled at Jane, who sat nodding happily. "I'm always happy to see they didn't ruin things. But then, Kevin is very keen on good results, and he knows how to get them."

The women kept talking until ten.

"I think I'd better go back and turn in - I've got a long stretch to walk tomorrow, you know. It was really nice to see you! If ever you are in the neighbourhood, do come along, please!"

"I will. Let's exchange phone numbers, okay?"

They grinned at each other and arranged things, and then Lizzie took her leave and walked back to the B&B where she had a quick shower before she hit the pillow.

She woke up early. The sun came streaming into the friendly room through the yellow curtains and she happily swung her legs onto the floor.

It was another beautiful morning. Lizzie went downstairs, into the breakfast room where her hostess had already laid the table for her guests. The B&B was just as pleasant as she remembered from those long, long years ago when she'd first done part of the riverwalk. Zeb had loved it; it was well-situated, off the road and with a wonderful view of the river. You could look down the bend, as far as the forest they'd walked through for well over four hours to reach it. It had rained that day, and the B&B had been a most welcoming place.

She smiled at the memory. They'd done a lot of walking together; the riverwalk had been one of the best. They'd promised each other to complete it some time or other. And here she was, determined to do just that. She had done about half the distance, going by her map, and she didn't think there would be any really tough stretches. With the beautiful weather this summer seemed have a patent on, it was just perfect walking.

Mmm... The smell of bacon and eggs greeted her nostrils as her hostess entered the room.

"Good morning," she said. "Did you sleep well?"

Lizzie nodded. "I did, thank you," she said. "It's a nice place you've got here. I stayed here..." She stopped to do some mental arithmetic. "...some eighteen years ago," she concluded. "And it's just as nice as I remembered."

She smiled a little, half to herself, at the memory.

Mrs Cathleys looked at her critically. She wasn't too bad at remembering faces, and she sometimes managed to retrieve a situation from the distant past. This small, cheerful woman with the chestnut hair, a slightly oval face and intelligent brown eyes... She thought she remembered alright - a rainy autumn day when a young couple knocked on her door, tired and wet through, and looking radiantly happy.

"Wasn't that on a wet day in early October?" she said.

Lizzie smiled. "Fancy you remembering! It was. But it was a great day. We loved it."

"I could see that," she said. "Oh my, how the time flies... Orange juice?"

Lizzie sat down to a big breakfast. She'd consulted the map the day before, and there was a small village at some two-thirds of the day's route, so she'd better be well-fed to manage the walk well. The breakfast was satisfyingly well cooked, and the sunlight streamed in through the large window. It felt great to be alive, she thought. Just great.

She had a truly big breakfast and then sat back contentedly to finish her tea. Then she consulted her watch. "Well," she said to Mrs Cathleys, " that was really nice. I'd better get going now, though. Thank you very much for a nice stay!"

"You're welcome. Who knows... Till next time, perhaps."

Lizzie grinned at her, collected her stuff, closed her backpack and set off with a wave of her hand. The path was well signposted, and well kept, and it was great being out in the open. Moreover, the rest of the walk was unknown to her; last time they had had to stop because her father-in-law had fallen off a ladder and his wife had been unable to cope. They'd both died within two years of the accident.

She thought for a while about the way family decided the choices you made. They'd been a lovely couple, and she'd always felt quite at home with them. Zeb had loved them. They had not minded having to end their walk; they had promised each other to go and walk the entire walk again some day. She half laughed, half sighed at the thought. Someday never comes... It had never come for the two of them.

V

Thirteen years. It was thirteen years ago that her life had fallen apart. Thirteen years felt like a short time somehow, because of the love she'd shared with Zeb; still, it had left her feeling lonesome at times. Usually it wasn't too bad. But now that her walk led her along a towpath under the perfect arch of a disused railway bridge, the sort of structure Zeb would no doubt have wanted to climb, she did feel a stab of pain. It quickly faded again, but it took her right back to that first of June.

She had been working hard on a commission all morning, and she had just stopped for a bite. She could still remember exactly what she had prepared for lunch - she'd not got round to actually eating it. When she had sat down to eat some, the telephone rang. It was a man from the local hospital who called her to say that Zeb had had an accident - not his fault, but they were afraid he had ruptured his spleen and was bleeding to death internally, and it was too late to operate on him. If she wanted to see him alive, she'd have to hurry...

The car was at the garage for a check-up. She was considering calling a taxi when she saw the neighbour come home. Bill, the local bobby, was a good friend of Zeb's. Oh good! Maybe he could help out. She had run across, not bothering to lock up or even to close the door.

She must have been fairly incoherent, but after a very short while Bill understood. He hadn't heard the news yet, so he thought it must have happened in town. He ran back to his car with Lizzie in tow, and when they were both inside he drove off with screeching tyres.

Bill raced against the clock. He had his siren and blue rotating light on and to his great relief everything went smoothly and he deposited Lizzie safely at the emergency entrance of the hospital in under fifteen minutes.

Lizzie didn't stop to say thank you, but ran inside and was immediately directed to the room where Zeb had been taken. He was still conscious and he smiled happily when he saw her come in.

"Hi Liz," he said. "I will have to stay here a while - but I'll be right as rain!"

It felt as though her heart stopped then and there. But she knew she ought to be brave; it wouldn't do to let Zeb notice that she didn't believe he would. She bent over to kiss him and then she sat down on a stool beside the bed and took his hand. She stroked it softly. "That's okay, baby," she said.

He smiled again. "Good to see you, little girl," he said. "I'm a little tired now..."

He closed his eyes. Lizzie kissed him again.

"Sleep sweet, baby," she said and she sat there feeling him slip away from her. She kept on stroking his hand, shaking her head, and looking at his face, the face she loved so well...

The doctor standing by told her it was all over.

"I know," she said. "Please, leave me alone for a while - I will have to take my leave my way..."

He nodded. "Alright," he said. "We are next door."

She stayed sitting next to Zeb's bed for about fifteen minutes until Bill came in.

She got up, and he shook his head and gave her a big hug. "Lizzie," he said, "you'd better go home, girl. Coming?"

She nodded. "Can you see me home?"

"Of course. Shall I come with you to keep you company?"

Lizzie shook her head. She walked along with Bill to the hospital car park, and she looked at Bill and shook her head again. She got in and Bill drove back at his ordinary, sedate pace.

He helped her get out.

"Thank you for driving me," she said. "I'm so glad I was there in time... Zeb never realised - I'm so happy he was not afraid..."

Then she crumpled up. Bill came along after all. He stayed with her for two hours, until she was reasonably calm again.

"So - what are you going to do now?" he said.

"Play music, and get drunk," Lizzie said. "Just until tomorrow..." She shook her head and sighed deeply. "Poor Zeb..."

"If you want an ear I'm next door, okay?"

"Thank you so much, Bill! You are a good friend."

He let himself out and she went and slipped Beth's "Sand and Water" into the CD player. Then she poured herself a large glass of whiskey and sat down in Zeb's chair. She listened to the CD twice while she finished the bottle - fortunately it hadn't been full. Then she went to bed and slept till ten.

It had been horrible, truly horrible. Bill had helped her a lot in those days. Unfortunately he had been transferred to Kent, and apart from cards at Christmas and birthdays they didn't really hear from each other any more. Lizzie shook her head and blinked a couple of times. Better not dwell on it, she thought. Not a good idea - decidedly not. Better make a drawing and try to remember the nice side. She got her paper out and did so. It was a beautiful place. When she'd finished her first draft she made a second one that had a little figure sitting on top, his legs dangling, grinning at the world. There you are, baby, she thought. There you are.

She put back her sketchbook and after wondering for a moment whether she should climb the bridge, too, she decided against it and resumed the walk, at peace with her situation again. It proved an easy stretch that day - no steep bits, no soggy low-lying parts, just hard, dry, reasonably flat walking surfaces and some nice lunch in the village - and she made it fast to the next place to stay. The views were beautiful but not the best ones of her walk. The B&B wasn't too hot, either, and she spent a longer time than usual relaxing at the local pub with a pint and her book. It was warm enough to sit outside until the sun went down behind the trees, and she enjoyed sitting on the wooden bench, elbows on the table, reading.

When it got too cold she went inside for a meal, and after that she finished her book. The pub had a small pile of books for sale for some charity or other - donations only, it read, suggesting you should donate a pound. Fair enough, she thought, and she went through the pile. She found a whodunit she hadn't read yet, put the book she'd finished on top of the pile and dropped a pound in the bottle that was there for the purpose. Home and to bed!

VI

She left the B&B early, after an uninspiring breakfast. She had to cross two fields to reach the path, which took her a long time because the farmer apparently didn't like people using the public footpath, and it was rather overgrown. She didn't mind too much; most of her walk had been in in excellent condition, and once she'd reached the river it was easy going again.

She did notice that carrying her rucksack was getting more of a burden; the length of walk was beginning to tell on her, if only just a little. But then it was only a few more days, with a detour when she could leave her luggage at the B&B and bring only her sketchbook and her lunch. She was looking forward to that! And then there was only an eight-mile stretch left - a goodly walk but mainly flat, with a pub halfway that served wonderful lunches if the online reviews were anything to go by. She was looking forward to it! Better than sandwiches from a lunch bag!

After some five miles or so she had to cross the river. There was a line of stepping stones, with the water gurgling past, making beautiful patterns as it sped along. She found a few small sticks and threw them into the water to watch their progress downstream, and when she'd seen enough she put down her rucksack, took off her boots and socks and sat down on the biggest stone, dangling her feet in the water. It was nice and fresh. She loved the way the light played on the water, and she tried to draw it. She made a series of sketches to be worked out at home. Pencil was not the best medium for this kind of thing, she thought - she'd love to paint it in water colours.

The walk was very satisfactory in that respect - she had made a load of sketches and she was dying to turn them into the real thing! Time for a drink and a sandwich, which would keep her going until lunch time. She put her feet up to dry and sat very quietly looking about her when a robin flew down to perch on top of her rucksack, eying her curiously. She smiles at the cocky fellow, stretching herself a little.

But it was time to go on, and she got up. The bird took off and she shouldered her pack and continued downstream. The weather stayed brilliant; she felt she was very lucky. She didn't mind rain, but the sun on her back and the bright light on the landscape made her walk really sublime.

Gradually the landscape was changing a little. There were more farms and cottages, and the world was getting less hilly - longer and longer stretches were quite flat, and the views became less awe-inspiring. But Lizzie loved this friendlier landscape too, and there still was a lot to sketch.

She walked a couple of miles in the company of an older man who lived in the area. He told her he went walking for a stretch every day to keep fit and to enjoy life and he proved very knowledgeable on the distant signs of habitation that you could see from the riverside. Lizzie really liked talking with him, and he showed he the spots where you could find orchids - in the right season, of course. It was very obvious that he loved the country and was very happy with his place in the world.

His wife had died recently, after a long period of Parkinson's disease, and the end had been really trying, but they had had a great time together for very long. He nodded and smiled happily at the memory. Yes, life was nice and enjoyable.

He waited for her a few times when she stopped to do some sketching, and eventually branched off to complete his walk.

"Time to go and feed the chickens," he said. "Nice meeting you!"

She stood still for a moment, watching him go, and after a little while he turned around and waved. She waved back and smiled. She liked this kind of chance encounter, and this had been a really nice one, she thought. He would make a pleasant neighbour.

The thought made her think of home, and her own neighbours - they were about the same age as the man she'd just met, but she didn't enjoy their presence too much. They were always quarrelling about totally unimportant things, and she suspected that Mrs Oldhams was fighting Alzheimer's disease, taking her fears out on her husband in a strident voice... Life's end often seemed to be quite horrible, she thought. Better not think of it just now. She shook off the sad thoughts and resumed her walk.

The pub lunch was as good as she had hoped. It was nice to sit on a chair for lunch, and to looked at others enjoying their meals. The publican stopped at her table for a little talk. Could he have seen her face on one of his children's books? When she pleaded guilty, he disappeared and returned with the book and asked for her signature. She complied with a smile.

When she had finished her meal and went over to the bar to pay, he told her that was alright.

"Have a nice walk," he said, and waved at her when she looked at him over her shoulder on leaving the pub. It seemed everyone was out to making her walk a real success, she thought. Brilliant!

Only a few more days to go... This evening's place to stay was right in the middle of nowhere, but the site said that she could have dinner there, so it would be no problem. It had looked nice too, better than last night's.

It was. The place was run by an elderly couple who apparently liked each other quite a lot, and who took pride in making her feel very welcome indeed. She sat talking and having a drink in their kitchen until past eleven, enjoying their tales and throwing in one or two of her own. But eventually they saw she felt the day's fatigue too much, and the party broke up.