From Darkness to Light

 ‘Sophie, how does this headtorch turn on?

               Emma felt Sophie’s cool fingers fiddle with the switch before the beam lit up her face in the inky darkness. Sophie looked fragile, her pale skin almost translucent, but her tiny jaw was set, ready and determined. Twenty women, their head torches shining bright at the mountain ahead, stood poised in line like some sort of new-age dance troop awaiting final instructions.

               It was Sophie’s idea, ‘Raising funds for the Paediatric ward,’ she’d explained.

               Emma couldn’t refuse. Her heart still ached at the loss of her three-year-old niece, run over last year by that idiot driver mounting the kerb. Lord knows what it must have been like for Sophie, seeing her only child’s life draining away in front of her. The staff at the hospital had been so kind, but Sophie and Mark had agreed that it was the right thing to do, to turn off the life support, four agonising days later.

               ‘Stay together, ladies. Safety first. Use your whistle if you want to stop for any reason. Right, off we go.’ The leader, Liz, strode out across the bridge to the start of the ascent, her walking poles gleaming in the bobbing headlights. It was exactly midnight, and the plan was to reach the summit at sunrise, for a picnic breakfast. Thank goodness it was mid-summer.

               One of the women stumbled and nearly fell in the stream. They laughed and gently teased her about getting soaked before the hike had even properly begun. Emma felt herself relax. She didn’t know the women. Most had some sort of connection with the ward, either they worked there, or their child had been a patient. Nevertheless, they seemed a happy bunch. She caught snatches of conversation, Gary Barlow climbing Kilimanjaro, the SAS men on Who Dares Wins, which men they would like to be hiking with them tonight. Someone passed jelly babies down the line, ‘To keep their strength up.’

               Sophie had always been a bit of a gym bunny but had obviously put in some extra training for this. ‘Hey, get you, striding out. I’m pacing myself, otherwise, I’ll have nothing left as we approach the summit,’ said Emma, feeling her heart rate go up at the first steep incline. She ran a hand over her chest and stomach, hoping she wasn’t doing any harm. There was a long way to go.

               Sophie’s headlight shone on Emma’s abdomen before moving across her face, causing her to blink.

               ‘Sorry, Em. I’ve been on a bit of a health kick recently. It seems to have worked. We can move further back down the line if you like. Blow the whistle if you need a stop.’

               ‘No, I’m fine for now, thanks.’ Emma knew she had put on a bit of extra weight and might be glad of a stop later, but she wasn’t going to be the first to ask. Did Sophie look at her strangely just then?

               The path zig-zagged but was easily followed, wide steps formed by the huge rocks, and Liz called for a stop, encouraging them to take a drink, and look down at the lights below around the campsite.

               ‘Look how far we’ve come already, ladies,’ she shouted.

               Emma heard a collective gasp as an owl swooped silently across the landscape just below them, landing on a pole then tugging with its beak at its catch. They watched as it soon set off in flight again, perhaps disturbed by their flashing lights, or perhaps taking food back to its owlets?

               Sophie squeezed her hand. ‘Better now? Got your breath?’

               ‘Perfect.’ Emma had sneaked a biscuit.

               The surprises just kept on coming. Emma never expected to enjoy the walk this much. She was there to offer support to Sophie, who did seem to be relishing the experience if her chatter with everyone was anything to go by. That could make her own news a bit easier for Sophie to swallow, but it could also set her back into the darkness of the last few months. Oh, leave it for the moment, Emma.

               After more climbing, they turned a corner, and the light from their head torches fell on a tarn, so still and deep in colour that it was easy not to recognise it at first as water. It was just, there. One of the women threw in a stone, causing the sound and ripples to momentarily star as the central act in this intimate theatre of the night.

               ‘Look, how one tiny thing can make such a change,’ said Sophie, gazing at the movement in the water.

               Emma winced, taking a deep breath, offering her hand. ‘Come on, Soph. The others have set off again.’

               For the next half hour or so cloud descended, and rain threatened. They had a stop to don waterproofs, and Liz gave everyone a number which she asked them, at intervals to shout out, to make sure they remained together in the poor visibility. That slowed them down, and Emma felt relieved at the new pace, joining in the banter with Sophie and the rest as they pretended to be marching soldiers or intrepid explorers.  Emma took surreptitious glances at Sophie’s face, noticing her animated expression, flushed cheeks, and the renewed sparkle in her eyes. She’d not seen her as happy in months. Maybe that was it? She’d just needed a new group of friends, some who’d been through similar experiences to her own? Emma couldn’t give her that sort of support, but, oh what a joy that her sister had found it.

               The cloud lifted, dawn started to break, and a lone bird introduced the morning chorus.

               ‘Look,’ shouted Liz. ‘I can see the summit.’

               It was there alright, but there was a steep climb to reach it. A lot of the climb was scree and the tiny stones looked dangerously slippery. I’ll not get up that, Emma told herself, afraid to admit to Sophie why she feared so much for her own, and her baby’s safety. She was only three months pregnant, and Steve, her husband, agreed with her decision to tell no one else until she had told Sophie. She planned that for tomorrow, sometime after breakfast, definitely before the return journey home later in the afternoon. She stood like a statue, staring up at the summit, heart pounding against her chest.

               Sophie’s warm fingers ruffled Emma’s hair as she unclipped the head torch. ‘We don’t need these now. Look, the sun’s out. Where’s your sunglasses?’

               Was that the sun making Sophie’s face so full of life?

               ‘Right, ladies. Pack those torches away with your waterproofs. One last push and we’ll be there,’ said Liz, folding her walking poles into concertina pieces.

               She had to do it. She was here to support her sister, couldn’t let her down.

               Sophie stared at her with that questioning expression Emma knew so well, head tilted, eyes pinched. ‘Emma Thorpe, please don’t tell me that you’re flapping about that bit of a scramble. Think about those croissants at the summit. I know how much you love your food.’ She looked at Emma’s waist, as though telling her she’d noticed it had disappeared over the past few weeks.

               Liz and a couple of the others had begun the climb. No one slipped. Emma knew her boots had a good undersole grip, and Sophie tugged at her arm.

               ‘Well, if you put it like that. ________ Lead the way.’ She followed Sophie’s steps, managing to keep firm herself, but needing to steady her sister a couple of times as her foot slipped in the gravel. She pushed Sophie over the top before taking hold of the outstretched hand and allowing Sophie to pull her onto the soil.

               Everyone seemed to be laying out tablecloths on the grass near the trig point, covering them with food and drink. Sophie prepared places for them both, producing a mini cake, candle, and small bottle of Prosecco. The sight of that made Emma’s stomach clench. She’d have to refuse.

               ‘We’ve done it,’ Sophie said, pushing her sunglasses back onto her nose, before lying back. Emma lay down beside and held Sophie’s hand, staring at the clear, blue sky through her sunglasses. The air felt fresh and new, and she thought of how good it was for the new life developing inside her. She turned to see Sophie, lying there all serene, glowing with new health.

               ‘Soph,______ I____.’

               Sophie sat up sharp and reached for the Prosecco. ‘I’ve brought this for you, Emma. I’m not having any. I’m pregnant.’

               Emma took the bottle, gave it to Liz, returned, removed her sunglasses and hugged her sister until tears of happiness forced them to part.