by Liz Eeles
‘Oh please,’ mutters Kayla, as Ollie bends and shouts into the tunnel.
‘Hey, the tide has turned. Come on you lot or we’ll be swimming out of the cave.’ He straightens up and shakes out his shoulders. ‘Were you OK on your own in the dark, Kayla?’
‘Yeah, fine.’
‘At least he got your name right,’ I whisper as Ben scrambles out of the tunnel, swiftly followed by Josh and Felicity, but Kayla grunts and stomps off into the darkness.
By the time we emerge blinking into the sunlight, the waves are licking at the entrance to the cave. The wind has picked up and is flicking sea spray across the shrinking sand, and almost half of the rock stacks are now under water. With the waves creeping ever closer, we relocate to the back of the beach, underneath the Path of Doom. Three huge boulders have formed a natural windbreak-cum-suntrap and we spread ourselves out across the sand.
Lying there, I pretend to gaze out to sea but really I’m watching Josh and Felicity, who have wandered off for a walk. Their heads are bent close together and they appear to be having an intense conversation. Not that it’s any of my business. I'll be gone from Salt Bay within a few weeks. I hope that Josh and Felicity will be very happy and will have lots of perfect, smiley children. Sighing, I roll over onto my back, close my eyes and gradually slip into sleep.
‘Wake up sleepy head or you’re going to be underwater.’ Chloe is shaking me, none too gently, and getting sand all over my head. Oh God, was I drooling? Stuart told me once that I drooled in my sleep and Ben is looking at me strangely. I surreptitiously feel the neckline of my sweatshirt but it’s not wet, thank goodness.
‘We need to climb back up before the tide comes fully in and the beach disappears,’ explains Ollie, handing me my bag that I was using as a pillow. ‘Follow me.’
He starts scrabbling up the cliff, closely followed by Chloe, Dodger and Ben. Tiny stones are dislodged from the track as they get higher and higher.
‘Going up is easier than coming down, right?’ I ask Kayla, strapping my bag across my body.
‘Definitely. Absolutely.’
‘Are you lying?’
‘Yes. I told you, it’s genetic,’ yells Kayla, who’s already three metres above me. ‘Do you want me to come back down and help you?’
‘Don’t worry. I can give Annie a hand if she needs it.’ Josh is busy collecting up the wrappers from the biscuits people had for lunch. ‘Felicity, why don’t you go up next to show Annie how to do it and I’ll follow behind her.’
‘I might fall on you.’
‘That is a risk I’m willing to take,’ says Josh, a muscle twitching in his cheek.
He shoves the wrappers into his trouser pocket and we start climbing: Felicity first, who’s brilliant; Josh last, who knows what he’s doing; and me, who once had a go on a climbing wall near Finsbury Park and had to be rescued by a hunky man in Lycra shorts. Thank God I’m not wearing Lycra now because Josh has a perfect view of my backside while I’m climbing the cliff ahead of him. Which could be a shock for a man used to Felicity’s petite derrière.
Kayla’s wrong. Going up the cliff isn’t any worse than coming down, but it’s no better, either. I’m sweating buckets by the time I reach what’s probably the halfway point – there’s no way I’m looking down to check – and my legs have gone all jelly-flubbery. And that’s when my foot slides on loose stones and I feel myself sliding.
Chuffing hell! I grab frantically at a pretty weed with white flowers that’s growing out of the cliff but it comes away in my hand. My slide starts to pick up speed and, with a squeak of horror, I twist round, sit down heavily and start hurtling down the cliff path on my backside.
‘Woah!’ Josh is a little way behind me on the track and is bracing himself as I get closer. ‘Grab hold of my legs,’ he yells, cupping his hands protectively over his privates.
Oh. My. God. We’ll both fall off the cliff. My final act in this world will be to take out the person who’s trying to save me. What a legacy.
I’m going so fast now there must be smoke rising from my arse. Just before impact, I close my eyes, reach out my arms in leg-hugging fashion, and pray that Mum is watching over me.
‘Oof!’ The collision brings me to a juddering halt and leaves me winded. When I open my eyes, my arms are wrapped tightly around Josh’s thighs and my face is almost in his groin. Well, this is embarrassing, though any embarrassment is tempered by the whole not being dead thing.
‘Are you all right, Annie?’ yells Kayla.
‘She’s fine; just a bit shocked,’ shouts Josh. Felicity has started scrambling down to us but he beckons for her to keep climbing. ‘You lot carry on. We’ll stay here for a few minutes to catch our breath and then we’ll climb up.’
Josh puts his hands under my arms and tries to pull me to my feet but I can’t move.
‘Maybe I’ll come down to your level. Um, you’re going to have to let go of my legs.’
‘Sorry.’ I relax the locked muscles in my arms and Josh squats down beside me.
‘You are fine, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I think so. Just a few scrapes.’
‘Where?’ He grabs my wrists and turns my arms over, looking for any damage. ‘Do you want me to have a look?’
Not likely. There’s no way I’m baring my scraped bum on a Cornish cliff.
When I shake my head, Josh sits back on his heels. ‘Do you think you can stand up yet?’
‘Maybe we could sit here for a minute more. I’m feeling quite shaky.’
‘Of course.’ Josh sits down on the path with his back to the rock and waves at the others who have reached the top. I can see Felicity peering over the edge, looking worried.
Josh and I sit quietly for a while as seagulls fly past us screeching loudly. Having a human slide past at top speed must have been perturbing because they’re louder than ever. A runny bird poo drops onto the path below us and splats in all directions.
‘Thank you for saving me.’
‘That’s all right. I couldn’t let you slide to your death or your great-aunt might have sacked Serena in revenge.’
There’s that deadpan humour again that he keeps so well hidden. I smile at him but he’s looking out across the water that’s already submerged where we were sitting ten minutes earlier. I lean back against the cliff and take some long, deep breaths.
It’s rather nice sitting here in companionable silence, which is why it’s such a shame that a question is fizzing up inside me. I try clamping my mouth shut but it’s no good; sliding down a cliff appears to loosen the tongue.
‘I was surprised to see Felicity here. Didn’t you tell me that you’d split up?’
For a moment I don’t think Josh will answer but then he says quietly, ‘We did, but she called and asked to see me today and wanted to come when she heard I was going to the beach.’ He glances at me briefly and adjusts the collar of his jacket. ‘When we went for a walk, she said she’d made a mistake and wants us to get back together.’
Ha! Just as I suspected. ‘So what did you say?’
Josh turns away from the sea and his eyes lock on to mine. I get the weird feeling that he can see into my soul, though if Kayla or Maura said that I’d tell them they were talking rubbish. But he looks anguished in a soul-searchy kind of way.
He opens his mouth to speak but Felicity calls out from the cliff top, ‘What are you two doing down there?’
Bugger off, Felicity, with your perfect body and hair; I want to hear what Josh has to say. But he’s already getting to his feet and pulling me up. Tiny stones embedded in the back of my trousers fall away from the fabric and cascade over my feet.
‘We’d better get you up to the top. Do you think you can manage it?’
‘Is there another option?’
‘You could try swimming round the headland.’
‘Onwards and upwards it is, then.’
‘That’s the spirit.’ Josh steps carefully round me and holds out his hand. ‘Whatever you do, don’t
look down.’
His long, strong fingers close round mine and we start edging our way along the track. Every now and again we have to let go to scramble past a boulder but Josh always grabs my hand again afterwards and holds on tight. It makes me feel much better.
At last we reach the top. Hallelujah. Kayla rushes forward and flings her arms around me.
‘I’m sorry,’ she wails. ‘I should have stayed to help you instead of rushing off on my own. You could have been killed if knob— um, Josh hadn’t been there. Thank you, Josh.’
She unpeels herself from me and throws herself into Josh’s arms. He pats her back awkwardly and gives Felicity a ‘help me’ look, but she ignores him and wanders over to me.
‘I’m glad to see you’re OK, Annie. You and Josh were down there for ages. What were you two talking about?’
‘Nothing. Just about what a prat I am, and… and stuff like that.’
Felicity doesn’t contest that I am a prat. She just stares at me with her yellow-brown eyes until I feel nervous and blush. It’s not her fault – she’s one of those women in whose company I turn into a total tit.
Ollie has gone to Josh’s rescue and is pulling Kayla off him.
‘Come on now, Kayla. There’s no harm done.’ He puts his arm round her and pats her shoulder gently. ‘We’ll come into the pub tonight and have a few to celebrate our survival.’ He winks at me and laughs.
Dodger leads the way back to the village, still full of beans and chasing after seagulls. Felicity is walking with Josh which means I don’t get a chance to thank him again so I fall back and walk with Kayla, who’s subdued.
‘Honestly, Kayla, there’s no need to worry. I’m absolutely fine,’ I reassure her.
‘What? Oh, I’m over that now. It was quite funny really, seeing you sliding down on your arse and ramming Josh in the goolies.’ She sniggers so hard a snot bubble pops out of her nose and she fishes in her pocket for a tissue.
Sighing, I resign myself to the fact that my mishap will be all over the village by teatime.
‘So what’s the problem? I thought you’d be happy that Ollie put his arm round you.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘And he patted my shoulder like a brother would pat his sister who’s being annoyingly hysterical. You wouldn’t pat someone if you wanted to snog their face off, would you? Well, would you?’
‘Ummmm.’ I sense there’s no right answer to this question so I link my arm through Kayla’s and try to change tack. ‘You’ve seemed a bit subdued all morning. Is everything else all right?’
‘It’s silly really. It was telling Chloe’ – she wrinkles her nose – ‘it was telling her that Australia is brilliant. It made me miss the place.’
‘I thought you were delighted to have escaped all those buff men surfing in their budgie smugglers.’
‘Yeah, it was hell.’ Kayla points at Dodger, who’s winding himself round Felicity’s legs. ‘That animal could seriously do with some doggy discipline. Our dog at home would never get away with it.’
Felicity gives a little scream and grabs hold of Josh’s arm to steady herself.
‘I guess talking about Australia made me miss my family, who are godawful, so heaven knows why.’
‘I’m sure they’re not that bad.’
‘I guess they’re OK as families go but they’re so different from me. You know how people in families get pigeonholed – the clever one, the pretty one, the anxious one. Well, I was the weird one.’
‘You are a bit odd.’
Kayla punches me gently on the shoulder. ‘Cheers. My sisters are quite a lot older than I am and did the whole school, uni, good jobs, marriage and babies thing. That wasn’t what I wanted so I got tagged as weird. Which one were you in your family?’
I think back to life with Mum. ‘I was the sensible one, I suppose, or the carer. The sensible carer.’
‘That must have been a bit rough when you were a kid.’
‘Not really.’ Talking like this makes me feel disloyal to Mum. She never pigeonholed me or asked me to look after her. I took on that role by choice and was happy to do it.
‘And now you’re doing it for Alice – being the sensible carer, I mean. And you think it’s your job to look after Mr Barnley, too,’ says Kayla, stopping abruptly and shaking sand out of her shoe. ‘It’s funny how we run from old patterns but end up falling back into them. Freud would have a field day.’
Blimey, this is getting heavy. Freud might say that I run from family commitment because much of my childhood was spent caring for Mum. But this is the same bloke who reckoned that all women have penis envy – and I really don’t.
‘Whatever,’ sighs Kayla. ‘Let’s forget families and go and get, as you Brits so eloquently put it, shitfaced. I bet I can get us free drinks in the pub.’
‘As enticing as that sounds, I’d better get back to Alice. She didn’t look well when she got up this morning, though she’d never admit it.’
‘Once a carer, always a carer,’ murmurs Kayla as we rejoin the others who are waiting for us at the edge of the village. A small boat has just appeared between the harbour walls and is motoring into calmer water, surrounded by a flurry of swooping seagulls. It looks like something you see in a travel magazine or on a postcard.
Josh catches my eye while we’re all saying our goodbyes and raises his eyebrows in an ‘are you OK’ kind of way. I would say something but Felicity is looking at me so I nod and smile which I hope conveys how grateful I am.
He and Felicity walk off together, looking like a couple from a celebrity magazine; him all tall, dark and brooding, and her all blonde, fluffy and pretty. Their children are going to be flipping gorgeous.
Chapter 22
The house is deathly quiet when I kick off my trainers and hang my bag on the coat stand. It’s funny how much this feels like home after less than a month here. Holiday syndrome, I guess, where you go on holiday and think you’ll never settle in and two days later you want to stay on the beach drinking margaritas forever. Not that I want to stay here forever, obviously.
‘Alice, are you here?’
Her walking shoes – flat, brown brogues – are placed tidily under the radiator and her handbag is on the table when I peep into the kitchen. But there’s no sign of lunch; no washed pots on the drainer, no crumbs near the bread bin, though Alice always eats lunch at one o’clock on the dot. You can set your watch by her hunger pangs.
‘Alice, where are you?’ I call, starting to feel panicky. She really didn’t look well this morning.
‘There’s no need to yell, Annabella.’
Phew, that’s a relief. Alice, in an elegant blue and cream tea dress with her hair in a tidy bun, is in her favourite chair by the sitting room fireplace. She’s sitting up straight with her hands on her lap.
‘Did you have a good time on the beach?’ she asks, hardly moving her head, though I’m not in her line of sight.
‘It was great. The beach is beautiful and we went into an amazing cave.’ There’s no way Alice is hearing the whole story. Not from me, anyway.
‘It is rather lovely. Sadly, I’ve not been fit enough to use the cliff path for some time. A tourist, a middle-aged man from Leicester, fell on it last summer and they had to call in the rescue team. He broke his leg in three places, apparently, and spent a week in hospital.’
Now she tells me. It seems I escaped lightly with a few scrapes and a bruised ego.
There’s a book on Alice’s lap but no plates or tea cups on the table next to her.
‘Weren’t you hungry at lunch time?’
‘I was hungry, but’ – Alice gives a short laugh – ‘it’s somewhat embarrassing but I don’t seem to be able to move. I was achy this morning so I sat down for a while but I’ve stiffened up and I can’t get out of the chair. I’ve given up trying and have been sitting here for ages. How ridiculous is that?’ She laughs again but she looks scared.
‘That’s awful, Alice. Do you want me
to call Dr Rivers?’ Some carer I am, gallivanting about on the beach while Alice is a prisoner in her own chair.
Alice shakes her head slowly and grimaces.
‘Please don’t bother Stephen on a Saturday or he’ll be insufferable about the state of my health. If you could help me out of the chair, I’ll take some tablets and will feel much better.’
‘Are you quite sure?’
‘I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.’ Alice closes her eyes and breathes out slowly. ‘Please, Annabella. I didn’t mean to snap at you.’
Gently putting my hand under Alice’s elbow, I pull her up slowly until I can get my arm around her back and lever her upwards. She sways slightly and groans but at last she’s standing. Before taking any medication, she insists that I frogmarch her backwards and forwards across the room, to help get her joints moving again.
‘This is so annoying,’ she huffs, leaning on me heavily while we’re pacing up and down. ‘One minute I’m feeling all right and then a short while later my body won’t do what my brain is telling it to do.’
‘That must be incredibly frustrating.’
Alice’s mouth sets into a determined line. ‘A little, but there’s no point in feeling sorry for myself. I need to sort myself out.’
‘Talking of which, I’m going to take over the search for someone to look after you properly.’
‘But—’
‘No buts, Alice. I can’t stay here forever and neither can you if we don’t get something permanent arranged quickly. You haven’t had much luck so it’s time for me to have a go. I can post something online.’
For a moment, Alice’s body sags in defeat. ‘I suppose it is foolish of me to expect my situation to improve. Having an unerring sense of optimism can be rather ridiculous at times.’ She glances at her left hand, which is trembling slightly, and sighs. But by the time I’ve tightened my grip around her waist, she’s curled her hand into a fist and straightened her back. ‘However, I do realise that more needs to be done so please, Annabella, go ahead and do whatever it is you do on the webby thing and we’ll see if that’s more successful.’
Alice takes some medication, has some food and a sleep, and claims she’s feeling much better. She certainly seems to be moving more freely. But mid-afternoon, I’m surprised to find her in the hallway, with her outdoor shoes on and handbag over her arm.