The treehouse, Alison realised with a pang, was a lot less impressive when you were eighteen, not eight.
Though the tree that held it was in vivid bloom, bursting with greenery in the height of summer, the house itself had seen better days. Rot had begun to set in to the wood, and little collections of fungus speckled the faded blue paint on the walls. A few panels of wood here and there were missing, and half the roof had gone altogether; in its place, a rogue tree branch was growing into the gap, dipping from the main trunk a little sadly. The childishly scrawled sign above the open doorway - ‘A + G’S TREEHOUSE, KEEP OUT!!!’, which Alison remembered hammering into place under fretful adult supervision - now hung sideways from one surviving nail.
The wooden ladder creaked at the assault of Alison’s heeled boots as she climbed nervously up to the treehouse entrance. It was used to smaller feet and much less weight than it was currently enduring. Alison gripped the sides of the ladder for dear life, wondering how the way up could possibly seem longer - higher - than she remembered it being as a kid.
‘I’m not gonna make it,’ she muttered, reluctantly hauling her left foot up one more rung.
Abruptly, with more of a sigh than a snap, the rung gave way under Alison’s weight. She shrieked as her legs scrambled for support and her shaky fingers betrayed her, losing their grip and beginning to slide down the railing.
‘Gi! Help!’
A strong hand suddenly grasped her upper arm. Alison looked wildly up to see her friend Georgina leaning dangerously far out of the treehouse. She was easily anchoring herself to the doorframe with one arm and holding Alison up with the other. Her face flushed with equal parts exertion and amusement as Alison’s legs continued to kick out uselessly beneath her.
‘Well, help me up then!’
Georgina shuffled onto her belly, releasing the doorframe. ‘When you said you wanted to hang out -‘
‘Gi, now!’
Georgina grinned as she took her time shifting her weight around so she could grasp Alison under the shoulders. Pure arrogance, Alison thought.
With nothing more than a quiet grunt of effort, Georgina pulled and Alison was unceremoniously dumped on the floor of the treehouse. Flopping onto her back, she glared at her rescuer, who was making a show of rolling her sleeves back down.
‘How did you manage to get up here without that thing breaking?’
Georgina shrugged, fluffing her short black curls back into place. ‘What can I say? I’m an athlete.’
‘Lest we forget.’ Alison nodded at Georgina’s expensive, branded running trainers. ‘I heard about the record at the Championships, by the way. Well done.’
Georgina blushed. ‘I was only just ahead of the Kenyan girl. I’m hardly Jessica Ennis.’
Having shrugged out of her jacket, Alison lobbed it at her with force. ’Take the compliment, Gi! From somebody who knows you’re still not over losing the Year Six egg and spoon race to me.’
Georgina caught the jacket in mid air, rolled it up and sat on it, casting Alison a smug look. ‘Fine. Thank you.’ She wriggled around, grinding the jacket into the grimy floorboards, as Alison wrinkled her nose and perched delicately on a tiny bench built into one corner of the house. ‘Don’t give me that look. You wanted to come up here one last time, you can be the one to suffer the consequences.’ She dropped her voice suddenly. ‘This thing was basic to begin with, who knows what’s been breeding up here for the last ten years -‘
‘Gi!’ Alison leapt off the bench. ‘Could you not? Remember I’m the one holding all the cards.’ Reaching behind her, she yanked a half-empty bottle of vodka out of her jeans and brandished it at Georgina.
‘Were you seriously keeping that down there?’
‘It’s the middle of summer, I had to sneak it out the house somehow.’
She unscrewed the cap and took a swig, grimacing as she passed it to Georgina. The taller girl eyed it with suspicion.
‘Come on, it’s not going to be any worse than those raw egg smoothies you drink,’ Alison coaxed.
‘Not a thing,’ Georgina said, taking a small slip and spluttering as if it had slapped her in the face, ‘but if it were, it would taste better than that!’
Laughing, Alison took the bottle back. ‘I’m only trying to help you get used to it. I’ve heard Freshers’ Weeks are brutal.’
Georgina shrugged. ‘I guess.’
‘Aren’t you looking forward to it?’
Gesturing for the bottle back, Georgina picked at the label thoughtfully. ‘Sort of. I mean, I’ve always wanted to go to uni. Well, you know me - I’ve always wanted to do anything that gets me out of this town.’
‘Right.’ Alison’s face darkened. Georgina didn’t notice, tipping her head back to drink deeply. ‘Slowly, Gi.’
Georgina wiped her mouth, pink blooming high on her cheeks. ‘But - well, it won’t be the same experience for me compared to everyone else, will it? I have to be strict with my diet, and I’ll be away for competitions for weeks at a time. It’s almost, like - is it worth it? But my coach thinks it’ll do me good, and Dad thinks I should have a backup plan, so there it is.’ She took a deep breath, then smiled brightly at Alison. ‘And everybody says uni is fun. I’ll have fun.’
Alison kept quiet, waiting.
‘But I’m going to miss Dad. He hasn’t been alone in the house since Mum died. I know he’s sending me to uni because he thinks it’s best for me - but what about what’s best for him?’ She cast a shy glance at Alison. ‘And I’ll miss you, obviously.’
‘Will you?’ Skepticism clouded Alison’s voice.
‘Don’t make me feel guilty, Alison,’ Georgina sighed. ‘I know we haven’t spoken that much the last few years, but I’ve never stopped thinking of us as best mates. Just because I’ve been busy doesn’t mean you couldn’t have reached out.’
‘I reached out today, didn’t I?’ Alison snapped hotly.
‘I know,’ Georgina said placatingly. ‘What’s that about, anyway? Not that I’m not pleased,’ she added quickly, as Alison opened her mouth again, ‘but why this place? It’s kind of a shit heap.’
Alison deflated a little. ‘I guess I just thought it might be nice to say goodbye to it. Together. We spent so much time here as kids. And it might be a shit heap, but it’s our shit heap.’ She kicked a plank of wood with the toe of her boot. It splintered instantly. ‘Oops.’
‘Technically, it’s my dad’s shit heap. It’s in his garden.’ Georgina crawled over to examine the splinter, and Alison took the opportunity to steal back the vodka. ‘Maybe we could honour the place by destroying it. That would be symbolic.’
‘That would be destroying every memory we ever made here! No, it has to stay. Tell your dad he can’t ever move out and leave it to the mercy of other people. And he can’t take it down himself, either. Not even if the apocalypse happens and it’s his last source of fuel for a life-saving fire.’
‘Jesus, Alison. Fine. But I don’t know what you intend to do with a treehouse you’re never gonna visit again.’
Georgina was still on the floor, cross-legged now, either oblivious to or uncaring about the dirt and grime on her tracksuit. Alison lowered herself from the bench to join her.
‘We could come back again.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Like a reunion.’ The warmth of the vodka was spreading through Alison’s chest like roots. ‘In - ten years time, let’s say. Kinda like we’re doing now. Catching up, remembering the past.’
‘Ten years.’ Georgina ran a hand along the intruding tree branch from where it stopped, about halfway through the room. ‘Do you think this thing will have punched a hole in the floor by then?’
Tilting the bottle, Alison drizzled a little vodka on the branch. ‘That should stop it.’
‘You think we’ll still be friends in ten years?’
‘I don’t know. That’s what the reunion’s for.’
‘What will we be doing?’
‘Well. You’ll be an Olympic medallist by then, I expect.’
Lying on her back, Georgina grinned up at the blue sky through the hole in the roof. ‘That sounds nice. And you’ll be married to Callum Parker, three kids down and a fourth on the way.’ She tugged Alison down to lie next to her.
‘I know you’re teasing but that sounds nice, too.’ Alison closed her eyes dreamily. ‘The house will always smell of bread. And I’ll be fat.’
‘You can’t drink vodka when you’re pregnant all the time.’
‘Don’t bring your nutrition bullshit in here.’
Georgina rolled onto her side, squinting to bring Alison’s face into focus. ‘Do you really think Callum’s the one for you?’
‘Yeah, I do,’ Alison replied promptly.
‘How do you know? Don’t take this the wrong way - but you’re only eighteen.’
‘I can’t describe it. It’s just a feeling. You know how the vodka is making you feel all warm inside?’ Georgina nodded uncertainly. ‘It’s like that, but all the time. And your head is clear, not fuzzy, so you know it’s real. He makes me feel safe.’
She fell silent, and the two girls watched a bird circle overhead, eyeing up their tree for a place to land.
‘You deserve that,’ Georgina whispered.
Outside, far beyond the reach of their world, the sky rumbled as a plane streaked idly by.
‘Anyway, he’s a great shag. That’s another way you know.’
Georgina squealed, clasping her hands over her eyes. ‘Oh, everyone at school knows that! Enough about me being busy, I’m surprised you have the time or energy to do anything else if the rumours are even half true. Did you really do it in the teachers’ bathroom?’
‘The teachers don’t even use that bathroom.’
‘Alison! Oh God, ew. That’s so grim.’
Alison eyed her suspiciously. ‘Have you never…?’
Georgina flushed. ‘No. Who would I do it with?’
‘I thought there was a boy at that training camp last summer. You mentioned him.’
‘Samuel? God, no.’ Georgina paused. ‘I think he wanted to. He tried to - well, you know. Once. But I pushed him off. It was at the end of the first week and I guess I hurt his feelings, because word spread that I had a massive stick up my arse the whole second week.’ She absently scratched at a spot on her arm, irritating it until it bled. ‘I don’t think I want to do that with anyone from running. Or - or maybe ever.’
‘Gi.’ Alison hit her hand admonishingly, and Georgina frowned in surprise at the red smear across her arm. ‘You have to let it go. Stop thinking about him.’
‘Samuel?’
‘No.’
Georgina turned a wild-eyed stare on Alison, who looked back solemnly. The treehouse was swamped in shadow as a huge grey cloud floated into view above the hole in the roof.
‘It’s going to rain,’ Alison murmured.
‘Do you miss running?’ Georgina’s eyes shone in the gloom.
Alison sighed, finding Georgina’s hand and interlinking their fingers. ‘Stop it.’
‘You do.’
‘I’m happy for you. Don’t ever think I’m not,’ Alison said fiercely. ‘You deserve everything you’ve achieved and you’re going to be amazing.’
‘It should be you.’
‘But it’s not. It wasn’t meant to be. I’m happy now - you should be happy now. Everything happens for a reason.’
‘Not that!’ Georgina said angrily, her fury overcoming the lump in her throat. ‘It’s so unfair. Someone should have stopped him before -’
‘I was fifteen. We all were. Who was going to say anything?’
Georgina’s expression was stricken. She looked breathless, though the air was perfectly still. The noise of the distant plane had faded, leaving silence except for the gentle creaking of the lone branch in the treehouse, as though it were preparing to break away from the trunk.
‘He works in America now. I’ve seen him at events.’
Alison said nothing, wrapping her arms around herself as a chill swept through the treehouse. A few of the panels rattled.
‘The last time I saw him, he was coaching the girl next to me on the start line. He was instructing her on her starting position, leaning right over her. She didn’t know he was watching her. But he didn’t know I was watching him, either. That it was so easy for me to lose my balance and stumble into their lane. He had a black eye visible from space for the rest of the event.’ She smiled humourlessly to herself. ‘I wish I could have done more.’
‘You’ve done everything, Gi. No - look at me. Do you realise how proud I am of you?’ Alison fixed her eyes on Georgina’s, willing her to listen. ‘You can’t let what happened to me stop you from living. I can’t wait to start my boring, nine-to-five life with Callum, just like I can’t wait to watch you win every trophy going in a couple of years.’
As the sky began to brighten again, warmth flooded the treehouse. The walls, weathered as they were, looked golden in the mid-afternoon sun.
‘You deserve every bit of success that’s coming your way, Gi. Take it.’
‘And we’ll celebrate here in ten years’ time?’
‘In ten years’ time.’
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