Stretched Horizons

by Ross Richdale

  "Damned lies," Colin snorted.

  "Who from, Shelly or you?" Bree cut back. "And don't deny you've been having an affair with her for months now; about the time of my miscarriage, I'd say."

  "So what about you?" the man retorted. "You've acted like a bitch for months. At least Shelly shows a little affection. If you acted more like a wife, I wouldn't have to go out to get satisfaction elsewhere."

  Bree wiped her tears away. "So I need something else, Colin. That's why I'm going to apply for one of those teaching vacancies." She gulped. "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. As for Shelly, if you want to move out and live with her, do it. Don't expect me to leave this house, though. Remember, it was the money I inherited when Dad died that paid for most of the deposit."

  "You bitch," Colin replied.

  His eyes were beyond anger now. In one movement, he stepped forward and slapped her across the face. The action was so violent, her head jerked back and blood poured from a split lip.

  She recovered, stepped back and held a handkerchief to her mouth. "Do that again, Colin and I'll ask my lawyer to file an assault charge against you," she whispered, fury heating her words. "Think what that'll do to your precious social standing and career."

  She flung her head back, turned and walked out of the room.

  CHAPTER 9

  Bree watched two fantails chasing tiny insects in the sunlight. One flew almost within an arm's length from her, landed on a branch and cocked its head. It seemed completely unafraid as its tail feathers fanned out to illustrate how it got its name.

  Rustling in the undergrowth made her apprehensive for a second until Pattie bounded into sight and ran up to her, tail thumping. A moment later, Ray appeared, fully dressed in work boots, shorts and tartan jacket.

  "Hi Bree," he said. "Pattie's missed her morning walks over the last couple of days. We've been out for about twenty minutes. I thought I'd come back and light the fire. I saw smoke from the chimney and wondered if it was you. Sleep well?"

  Bree smiled. "I did." She glanced around. "Aren't those little fantails delightful?"

  "Yes," Ray said. He kicked at a clump of dirt. "I was by a minute ago, but you seemed immersed in thought. Are you worried about that conference you're missing?"

  "No," Bree said. "I'd rather be here. For the first time in years, I've stepped back and looked at my life. Out here, I can become almost detached." Bree glanced up. "I've told you most of the things about my ex-husband. I was just thinking back to when it all began. His first affair was with a girl named Shelly Carmichael. Funny, I hardly knew the woman but the name is embossed in my mind."

  "And what happened to her?"

  "She got serious and Colin dropped her." Bree sighed. "Poor girl. I almost felt sorry for her at the time. I met her a few months back. She came up like a long lost friend. She's married with a couple of kids... seems happy, too." Bree told Ray about that first confrontation with Colin.

  "So, you went back teaching?" Ray said when she finished.

  "Yes, the next term. I've been back ever since. Oh, Colin got used to it. The only other big row was when I won the headteacher's job at Sunset Grove." She chuckled. "The salary I was offered was higher than his. It shot hell out of his pride. That was when he started having affairs again. In his warped mind, he had to prove his manliness, I guess."

  "Cowardliness, more like it," Ray said. "You're better off without him."

  "Yes. My only regret is I should have done it eight years ago. I partly blamed myself. I guess I thought he'd change but he never did." She chuckled. "He had to swallow his pride a couple of years back when he was made redundant and I supported him for three months."

  "Did he appreciate it?"

  "Not really. That's when he started his clandestine affair with Linda Rouke. She was number three, but there were probably others."

  "So, what did you do?"

  "Immersed myself in my work. Teaching can take your whole life if you let it." She laughed. "That's why I don't mind missing the conference. There'll always be another one."

  "Fair enough," Ray replied and crouched down by the log to pat Pattie.

  Bree watched him, her thoughts racing. One part of her wanted him to move across and tuck his arms around her, while another drew back in anticipation of how she'd react if he made such a move. It didn't matter, though, as Ray straightened, remaining out of physical contact range.

  "Breakfast?" he asked.

  "Excuse me?" Bree shook aside the daydream.

  "I have mushrooms, bacon and eggs for breakfast." He chuckled again.

  Bree nodded. "It sounds wonderful, Ray, but I'll do the cooking. It's the least I can do. Okay?"

  "We both can." He turned to Pattie. "I think I can find a bone for you, too, girl," he said. "Won't that be grand?"

  Pattie's response was immediate. She gave a bark and ran towards the hut.

  "So what happens today?" Bree asked as they walked back at a more leisurely pace.

  "That's up to you, but I have one suggestion."

  "And that is?"

  "It's a five hour tramp to the next hut and another three hours to the closest road on that side. I think you should both spend the day recuperating."

  "But that doesn't include you?" Bree said.

  Ray smiled. "That hill to our west is the last major obstacle before the Manawatu Plains. There's another ravine beyond so we can't get out that way."

  "But you're still thinking of going there?"

  Ray nodded. "Once I'm at the summit, I'll be able to use the mobile phone to call in a rescue team. A helicopter could be here within half an hour."

  "I see," Bree replied. She should have been elated but her stomach felt sort of flat.

  "You don't sound very enthusiastic about a rescue, Bree."

  Bree flushed, coming up a flimsy excuse. "I'm worried. The hill looks steep. Will you be able to make it?"

  "I'll take Pattie and plenty of gear. The map I was studying shows a ridge that cuts up the north side. I probably wouldn't even need to go as far as the ridge since the hill curves southwest. If the transmission tower on Whariti Peak comes into sight, I'll make my call and return. The whole trip will take three hours at the most. If I leave after breakfast, I'll be back by lunchtime."

  "Better still, get the helicopter to pull you off, too."

  "I suppose I could do that..."

  "Take care, Ray. Don't take any risks. If the terrain is too difficult, come back and we'll walk out together tomorrow."

  Ray placed an arm around her shoulders for a second and smiled. "It's nice to have someone who cares," he whispered. "Somehow these ranges will seem empty without you."

  "Really?' Bree replied.

  Ray glanced down at her and smiled. "Yes, really," he replied.

  "LOOK, I'LL BE OKAY," Ray repeated half an hour later outside the hut. He slipped his backpack over his jacket and whistled up Pattie. "I've got the route sketched on the map I left on the table. If there are any messages I'll tell the rescue crew. The helicopter could be here before I get back,"

  "So why don't you come back, too?" Bree asked.

  Ray smiled. "I work here remember. There's work to do." He studied Bree's face. "Okay, I've the name of the motel you're booked into in Palmerston North and you've got my mobile number."

  "Which won't reach you here," Jenny cut in.

  "We don't want to just disappear from your life," Bree added. "It's not fair after all you've done. Can't you come back with us if we're rescued." She pouted. "You did say you were ahead in your work. What difference will a couple of days make?"

  Ray smiled. "Okay," he said. "When I contact the rescue chopper, I'll ask them to pick me up."

  "Good," Bree said and walked into the hut so she didn't have to watch Ray disappear through the trees.

  A moment later, Jenny came in and stood beside her. "He'll be okay," she said. "He's used to tramping through the bush."

  "We should have gone with him," Bree said.

  "Oh, Bree," J
enny replied. "His reasoning was sound. You admitted your ribs still hurt." She grimaced. "After yesterday, I'd be more of a hindrance than a help anyway."

  "I guess," Bree replied. "I can't help feeling everything isn't as simple as Ray painted, that's all."

  "God, Bree, you're acting like a love smitten teenager." Jenny ducked away as if she expected a clout from Bree but there was no reaction. "Damn," she added. "It's worse than I thought."

  "It's nothing," Bree finally said. "He's a nice guy who rescued us, that's all."

  "Yeah, so you said yesterday," Jenny replied. "Come on. What say we use some of Ray's supplies to cook up a nice meal?" She smiled. "It's better than just moping around."

  "And you keep out of the sun," Bree warned. "Your sunburn looks terrible."

  THE DAY MOVED ON AND apprehension turned to worry when mid-afternoon came and went. They had the map he'd left, of course, but it was not sufficiently detailed to show trails. The contour lines were close together, indicating the higher points were as steep, if not steeper than the hill they'd had so much trouble climbing the day before.

  Bree stood in the living room packing items in one of the backpacks that came with Ray's supplies. "Just in case," she said when Jenny asked what she was doing. "Anyhow, it gives me something to do."

  "Listen!" Jenny said and glanced outside. "Isn't that Pattie barking?"

  "My God, it is." Bree flung the backpack aside and almost ran out the door, Jenny following.

  She was only a few metres up the path when Pattie appeared out of the distant shrubbery. The dog was limping and covered in mud. Her eyes looked mournful and the long tail dragged along the ground. When she saw Jenny, her tail gave several wags before she yelped and broke into a run. Seconds later, she almost leapt into Jenny's arms, before dropping back with a whine.

  "What is it, girl?" Jenny asked. "Where's Ray?"

  Pattie's whine turned to a bark. She turned and ran back up the path, stopped and returned. Jenny followed a short distance, only to return a moment later.

  "Ray's not here," she said. "But I think Pattie wants us to follow."

  Bree gasped. "Oh my, I knew something would happen. I'm going to find Ray."

  "Okay, but wait one moment," Jenny replied. "Finish packing the backpacks. We'll need the tent, food, water and the first aid kit. Those warmer clothes you packed were a good idea."

  It was the younger woman who now became the one in charge. She opened a tin of dog food and poured some water in a basin for Pattie. The dog lapped the water up in several slurps and ate the food before glancing up. Her tail began to wag as if she knew help was on its way.

  "And we eat something, too," Jenny said as Bree paced back and forth along the veranda with the largest backpack on her back. "I'll write a note to leave on the table."

  "Of course," Bree responded. "I should have thought of that." Her voice rose. "The map! Where's the map!"

  "In my pocket," Jenny responded. She grabbed the hut's logbook and scribbled a note on the first blank page.

  Bree watched as Jenny found some of Ray's clothes and poked them into the second backpack. "Oh, Jenny," she cut in and rushed to help. "I'm sorry. I should have thought of that, too."

  Jenny gave a fleeting smile. "I'll forgive you, Mrs. Ashworth," she responded, then studied Bree a moment. "You've got it bad, haven't you?"

  Bree stopped and stared at her friend. "Oh Jenny," she said. "My facade has crumbled, hasn't it?"

  "So, what if it has, Bree? Shall we go?" Bree nodded and Jenny turned to the dog. "Find Ray, girl," she said. "Keep us in sight. We won't be as fast as you. Understand?"

  Pattie did. She ran ahead and stopped at the shrubs. After the pair followed her through, she ran on to the next obstacle, a grove of ferns and waited again. It was a hectic pace but Bree did not even slow. They pushed through supplejack, around logs, over boulders and pulled themselves up the steep hillside.

  Jenny was soon gasping for breath but never complained. Pattie stopped after one hard climb through horrible cutting grass that scratched arms, legs and paws.

  "Go on, girl," Bree panted. She squinted ahead and wiped perspiration from her eyes.

  The dog glanced up at Bree and stood with her head turned and tail drooped. Finally, Jenny appeared from behind them. Her body heaved and sweat-drenched hair covered her mud-splattered face.

  "Don't wait," she gasped. "I'll follow."

  "No," Bree replied. "Anyhow, Pattie refuses to move. I'm sorry for being selfish. We stick together." She glanced at her watch. "We've been going almost an hour. I think we should have a rest and a drink."

  "Thanks,' Jenny gasped. She pulled herself up beside Bree and sat down. "Remember Pattie."

  "I will," Bree whispered. "Her pan is in your pack."

  FORTY MINUTES LATER the gasping pair came out of the trees onto a ledge bathed in sunshine. The whole hillside had slipped away into a valley below. Grey and white dust, larger slabs of solid chunks assembling concrete, and uprooted trees scarred the hillside. It appeared solid but water trickled from several cracks in the surface.

  "Some slip," Jenny gasped. "It looks recent."

  "And look," Bree said. "Ray's footprints. He's gone across."

  She was about to step forward when Jenny grabbed her arm. "No, we'll rope ourselves together first."

  Pattie, though, had a different idea. She raised her head and howled, cocked her ears forward and howled again.

  "Listen!" Bree whispered. She frowned and stared down the slip face.

  All was quiet. Even Pattie stopped and sat down, saliva pouring from her tongue. Far below a voice called out.

  "Ray!" Bree screamed. "Ray. We're here!" She grabbed a branch and leaned out as far as possible but only the slip showed. "Ray!" she screamed again.

  Jenny shouted and Pattie howled. They stopped and listened.

  "Be careful," a far off voice filtered up from way below. More indecipherable words followed.

  Pattie yelped and bounded diagonally down the slip. Even her small size sent rubble moving. The dog went into a dust slide for several metres, recovered, barked again and disappeared out of view.

  "We'll still use the rope," Jenny said.

  Bree nodded. "If we make our way down beside the slip rather than the face itself..."

  She worked with Jenny to find a way down the steep face. On their side of the slip, small, flowering manuka trees covered the hillside. They crawled beneath them but found their backpacks caught on low branches. Bree swore, slid her pack off and dragged it behind. The manuka grove was a world of reddish trunks the size of her hands. A strong but pleasant aroma permeated the air, coming from creamy white flowers. She turned and used the trunks like a ladder to make her way down while Jenny followed. Without the gap of sunlight over the slip to their left, she would have become lost within moments.

  It was steep, with the trees often so close together she had to squeeze through or around them. The soil beneath her feet crumbled easily, and often it was only by gripping trunks that she stopped herself from plunging down steep sections. She continued, the silence broken only by Jenny's puffing. A steep, eight-metre drop appeared but below this, the hillside sloped at a more leisurely angle.

  "Your rope, Jenny," Bree said. She wiped sticky hands on her clothes and managed to stand upright. "God, my back aches."

  After tying the rope end somewhat unprofessionally, but securely, to a manuka trunk, Bree tossed the coil down. She dropped her backpack after it and grinned at Jenny. "Want to go first?"

  Jenny shook her head.

  Bree grabbed the rope, leaned back over the edge and made her way gingerly out. She kept her legs spread wide as she walked backwards down the slope. At an almost vertical section her confidence wavered. The rope slipped through her hands and she crumbled in a heap on the ground three metres below.

  She grimaced and opened her fingers. Blood oozed from diagonal grazes across both hands. Rope burns! One knee was also bleeding and her left upper arm was raw.

&
nbsp; "You okay?' Jenny called from above.

  Bree glanced up at the dirty concerned face. "Yeah," she called back. "I was trying to be too smart, that's all. I'll hold this end of the rope for you."

  Jenny gripped the rope and made a more successful hand-over-hand descent down to Bree. She also wiped sticky hands on her clothes and looked up. Pattie had arrived. "Hi, girl," she panted. "How far now?"

  "Ray!' Bree called. "Where are you?"

  "Over here!" Ray's voice was still quite a way off but was now parallel to them. "I'm stuck, I'm afraid. Got caught in a landslide."

  "Coming," Bree shouted. She hitched the backpack on and headed for the open space ahead. At the edge of the slip, she stopped and took stock. They were about halfway down the face. The cliff they'd just descended extended out onto the slip where it disappeared beneath the rubble of the slip itself. Further out, something moved!

  She saw an arm waving. There appeared to be nothing else. Just one arm of Ray's familiar tartan jacket waved out.

  CHAPTER 10

  Though Bree was frantic to get out to Ray, common sense came to the fore and she discussed their best approach with Jenny. They toiled with the idea of bringing the rope down but this would cut off the only way back up the cliff.

  "Keep together and go straight out," Jenny said. "It's as good a way as any. It looks dry and reasonably solid."

  "I agree," Bree replied. "I'll get the medical kit but I think we should leave the backpacks here."

  Jenny nodded. "There's another shorter rope here. It could come in handy." She took it from her backpack, tied the rope around Bree's waist, then around herself, and grinned at Pattie who was back beside them. "Go to Ray, girl. We're right behind." She turned to Bree. "You're the leader. Away you go."

  The walk across the slip was more of a psychological worry than actual danger, for the view stretched down to the valley hundreds of metres below. Bree stepped cautiously through loose rubble with her gaze darting between places to put her feet and Ray. All she could see was his arm and that was now still. Pattie kept pace with them by zigzagging around uphill with her nose down and tail again wagging.