Free Such Visitors by Angela Huth

for their pleasure, felt himself something of a hero. Cheered by the sudden companionship, he entered into the spirit of the thing, and presumed himself temporarily to be among friends.
    Others arrived. The news, it seemed, had travelled. They stood about, thumping themselves to keep warm, asking permission to study Gerald’s map spread on the bonnet of his car. Gerald heard only one dissident voice among them. A fierce lean girl in leather went from group to group haranguing them about being male chauvinist pigs: but she was powerless to spoil their fun. ‘Ah, it’s a bit of sport, girl,’ explained one of the tweedies, gently punching the breastless leather jacket. Alone in her opinion, she eventually went away.
    At five to eleven, no sign of the competitors, Gerald felt the first stirrings of anxiety. There were jokes about sudden withdrawal. New bets were placed about whether the runners would turn up at all.
    But at eleven o’clock precisely, Lola’s red Mini drove through the gate. Amazed, Gerald watched both her and Rose get out of the car. As far as he knew, they hadn’t communicated since the night of the decision. The implications of their drive down from London together was suddenly moving. He gave himself a moment to recover before striding over to greet them. Both girls wore their fur coats, bright wool socks and expensive running shoes, very new. Both had their hair scraped back, and large, unmade-up eyes. They looked about at the gathered spectators, registered horror. Then, unsmiling, turned simultaneously to Gerald.
    â€˜We thought this was to be a private event,’ said Lola.
    Gerald shrugged. ‘Well, I’m sorry. You know how things get about.’
    â€˜It’s appalling,’ said Rose.
    â€˜You’ll be quite unaware of them,’ explained Gerald, ‘once you get going. Anyway, it’s rather encouraging, isn’t it, to have an audience cheering you on?’
    Neither girl replied. Gerald offered them coffee, brandy, biscuits. They refused everything. They stood closely together, arms just touching, a little sullen. Noting their faces, regret, sudden and consuming, chilled Gerald more deeply than the raw air. He would have given anything to have withdrawn from the whole silly idea … But then Lola gave him an unexpected smile, and he detected Rose’s look as almost compassionate.
    â€˜Come on, then, let’s get it over,’ said Lola.
    Gerald’s spirits returned. He should have had no worries. They, too, saw it as no more than a lark: something that would make a good story for years to come.
    â€˜I’ve ordered a stupendous lunch for us all at The Bear,’ he said gratefully, and was puzzled they conveyed no gratitude in return.
    Brusquely, they flung their coats into Lola’s car. Their clothes beneath were almost identical: shorts and tee-shirts. Lola’s had
I’m no hero
stamped across her large bosom. Rose’s tee-shirt bore the message
Like me.
Gerald wondered if these messages were part of some private plan between them. He noted the paleness of their limbs, and the way their skin shrivelled into gooseflesh. Rose hugged herself, shivering. Lola left her arms at her side, characteristically defying the sharp air. Both looked remarkably fit. Rose was much thinner. Muscles rippled up Lola’s long thighs.
    Gerald took off his tie, which was to be the starting line – an amateur detail symbolising the
fun
of the whole thing, he thought. He walked a few paces up the slope, placed it on the ground. Standing again, he took in the sweep of misty country-side beneath them, shafts of sun stabbing into plough and trees.
    â€˜Now, you know where you have to go?’ Both girls nodded. ‘No problems about the course? Don’t think you can go wrong.There are signs all along the route. Put them up myself yesterday.’
    He bent over to tweak the tie, make certain it was straight. The girls were