It felt like an eternity since I’d left them and I still hadn’t reached the road. I pushed on down a rock-strewn track that zigzagged steeply through rain-laden bracken and heather. Then finally through the haze and still some distance downhill, I spotted headlights and knew the road was near.
I felt relieved and looked up. “Thank you, God.”
“Where the hell have you been and where’s Max?” Georgina fired as I reached them.
They were sheltering from the wind against the drystone wall.
I described what had happened but noticed James was missing.
“We were worried. The storm hadn’t let up so James doubled back. Didn’t you see him?” Georgina got out her mobile, stood on tiptoes and held it up. “Why isn’t there any reception?”.
“Cus we’re about fifty miles from the nearest mobile mast,” replied Nick, with a wry smile.
“I did see someone… not James though, he must have taken a different route. Haven’t you asked anyone for help?”
“We knew something must have happened. We flagged down a woman. She said she’d get hold of mountain rescue,” explained Nick.
“He’ll need air rescue,” I said.
“Did he have any ID, a wallet or anything?” asked Nick.
“Nothing at all. He didn’t even have a jacket or rucksack,” I said.
The minutes dragged on as we huddled together and awaited help.
“It’s been too long. No one’s coming,” I said. “Let’s stop a car.”
“I agree. Come on,” offered Georgina.
Nick looked up the hillside. “Is that James?”
James had emerged from the low-lying mist and was hurtling down the track. He walked the last few yards and leaned over, breathing so hard he could barely speak.
“So what you’re telling me is… Max is back up the mountain with a critically injured man… potentially a dead man?” James’ face drained of all colour, feeling the full weight of responsibility for the group.
“Fraid so.” I didn’t soften the truth.
The distant yet distinct rumble of a helicopter silenced us. Moments later it appeared out of the cloud cover and followed the line of the road. We all waved our arms. The helicopter slowed and circled overhead. The only safe place it could land was the road, and we ran out and stopped the approaching cars.
The rumble of the engine and blades thundered through me and the force of the airstream whipped at my skin and hair. Instinctively, I stepped back from the machine’s roar and power as it lowered and landed. The door slid open and a man jumped out and ran across to us.
“I was with the injured man,” I said. “He’s got a deep head wound. Max stayed with him, short of the summit this side,” I added. My legs felt hollow.
“Are you OK coming up, point us in the right direction?” he said, with a nod to the helicopter.
“Of course,” I replied, sounding far keener than I felt.
On-board, and with seatbelt tightly fastened, I felt the engine growl as the pilot powered it up. We lifted off the ground and hovered above the road briefly before it surged forwards and forced me back in my seat. The three-man crew talked back and forth to one another through their headsets. I shut my eyes as we banked at an alarming angle around the crags I’d passed through earlier and when I opened them again my stomach rocked at the terrifying proximity of the mountainside and the rising and falling sensations.
“Poor visibility approaching the peak, the pilot warned.
I pressed my forehead to the window. We flew out over the far side of the summit and circled back round again.
“Got them. Three o’clock,” called one of the crew.
The helicopter lowered and hovered. I caught sight of Max waving something above his head. It was impossible to land, and instead they lowered the winch and stretcher, along with one of the crew. The helicopter swayed back and forth as the pilot fought against the wind that gusted around the peak. I peered down through the mist and glimpsed some activity. The crew radioed messages back and forth, but much of what they said sounded like code. My stomach churned and I reached for a sick bag and prayed I wouldn’t need it.
After what seemed like forever the wire spooled back in, and the laden stretcher reappeared alongside the open doorway. The crew pulled them inside, unhooked the stretcher and lowered the winch again. My entire body sickened when I realised the poor soul had breathed his last. Wide eyes stared out from a vacant and lifeless blue face. Then like a flash of sheet lightning I saw the lone figure that had passed by me on the mountainside, the exact same face.
I caught the eye of one of the men who was securing the body.
He shook his head and drew the sheet over the man’s face.
My insides turned over, and I heaved into the bag. My body trembled, my teeth clattered, and my eyes couldn’t focus.
Within a couple of minutes, a soaked and silent Max had been brought safely aboard, our rucksacks in tow. His face looked almost as pale as the corpse but thankfully he shivered violently and appeared very much alive. As he strapped himself into the seat beside me, I put my hand on his arm and searched his eyes.
“Are you OK?” I said.
He turned to me and burst into tears. I rummaged in my coat pockets for a tissue, but only found two soggy jelly babies.
Max rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t know what to do…” he wept, unable to go on.
The helicopter flew through the gloom and layers of cloud and I held onto Max. We clung to one another, silent, drawn together by the tragedy that had unfurled around us.
“You need to get checked over mate,” the pilot said to Max when we were back on terra-firma.
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” he said. “I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.”
“No arguments Max,” the pilot insisted.
We stood aside, helpless, as they stretchered the body away.
“You don’t look fine,” I said. “It won’t do any harm, and I’ll be with you.”
“Don’t spose I’ve got much choice,” said Max, and set off behind the crew.
A young nurse led us to a treatment room. Max shivered violently as she took his pulse and temperature.
“Your temperature’s normal so just a case changing out of your wet clothes. Have you got any?” she asked, and eyed our rucksacks.
“They should be dry,” I replied.
“Off with those wet clothes, or you’ll end up with nasty chills. I’ll make some tea,” she said briskly.
I took hold of Max’s hand. It was smooth, firm and surprisingly warm. “Better do as we’re told.” I grinned at Max, but he didn’t return my smile.
We removed our wet coats and jumpers and I draped them over the hot radiator. Max went to the window and split the blinds. He stood and stared out, silent.
The nurse returned with two cups of tea. “Here we go, nice and sweet. It’s the best thing for shock.” She placed them on the cabinet by the window. “I hear an officer is on his way to take your statements.” She tried to catch Max’s eye but he remained unmoving.
“Of course,” I said.
She closed the door as she left.
I found a dry shirt for myself then delved into Max’s rucksack. When I turned around, I saw he’d been watching me. I handed him jeans and a T-shirt.
“Come on Max, you have to get out of your wet clothes. Promise I won’t look.” I faced the other way and took off my T-shirt and slipped into a cotton blouse. I turned back and saw Max look away quickly, which reassured me he wasn’t too traumatised.
“Your turn unless you want me to fetch nursey to help?” I said and smiled. I turned a chair to face the wall and plumped down.
“Sure,” he mumbled.
My eyes came to rest on a dent in the wall where the door handle had repeatedly knocked against it. It was then that I saw Max from a different perspective, and recognised he was less robust than he appeared on the surface and far from immune to the impacts of life’s shocks and blows.
“Not sure about the T-shirt,” he said. “A bit wide of the mark under the circumstances.”
I twisted around in my chair.
Max pulled on the bottom hem of his Superman T-shirt.
“Well, I think it’s very apt and that shade of blue matches your eyes perfectly.”
Moments later there was a knock at the door and an elderly police officer walked in.
“Afternoon. Inspector Harlow,” he said and extended a hand. “Max O’Donnell and Katriina McNalty?”
“Yes, hello.” I picked up our cups of tea and passed one to Max. I took a sip, grateful for its warmth and sweetness.
He pulled up a chair and settled down then placed his briefcase on his knees. He smoothed a hand over his hair, flipped up the catches of his briefcase and brought out a pad of paper. As he rolled his biro between his fingers, I noticed they were heavily nicotine stained. He forced a thin smile. “You came in with the man who died on Benn Arum?”
“Yes,” we said in unison.
“Do you know who he is…was?” I leaned forwards, my hands wrapped around my cup.
“Not yet, but I don’t expect it’ll take long for someone to report him missing. He was wearing a wedding ring.” As he spoke, he rubbed two middle fingers along his furrowed brow as though trying to rub the lines away.
Inspector Harlow asked questions and took notes as we described the chain of events that led to the man’s death. I knew we were innocent, but I felt guilty and wondered if we could have done things differently.
“Did he regain consciousness, open his eyes, say anything at all?”
Max nor I spoke.
“You see until his autopsy results come through we have no idea what caused his injuries, and we may never know why he was off the track, and so inappropriately dressed.”
Max stared into his lap.
“I think Max is in shock,” I said.
“Max?” Inspector Harlow shifted his gaze to gain Max’s attention.
Max pulled on each of his fingers in turn. His voice trembled as he spoke. “I talked to him, but he didn’t wake up apart from just before he fitted. Then he stopped moving, and I think that was when he died.”
Tears spilled down Max’s face and I leaned over and touched his hand. “It’s all right Max, we couldn’t have done more. At least you found him and stayed with him until the end. If it weren’t for you he’d probably still be lying there with no one any the wiser.”
Inspector Harlow finished writing, closed his notebook, and nodded. “Quite. And I’m sure his wife and family will be grateful for the support you gave him.” He slotted his pen into his breast pocket. “That will do for now.” He glanced from me to Max. “Can I ask you both to write your statements, read them through, and if you’re happy, sign and date them. We’ll see what the autopsy report comes back with and I’ll need to speak to one or two in your walking group. I’ve got your details should I need to ask any more questions.”
“Wasn’t a great deal I could put on my statement,” Georgina said.
“Me neither,” said James. “It’s ticking boxes, I imagine. Come on, I want to get my tent up in daylight.”
As we gathered our belongings I watched as a petite young woman with blonde curly hair and a child hurried through the automatic doors and up to the reception desk. On impulse, I stopped to listen.
“I think my husband Roy Simpson could be here,” she said. “He’s been missing since yesterday, and when I rang they said a man came in and it might be Roy.”
“I’ll find a doctor,” replied the receptionist, and looked to the nurse beside her.
“What’s the matter with him? Is he unconscious?” she asked, her face and voice distraught.
The nurse spoke quietly to the woman then led her away down the corridor.
I thought she looked too young to be a widow and the boy far too young to be fatherless.
I grabbed Max’s arm. “I think that’s his wife.”
“I can’t,” said Max. “I couldn’t speak to her if she was.” He pulled his arm away and walked out.
“Let him go. You two stay, and we’ll meet you outside,” said James, and followed Max out.
“Oh dear. Poor Max,” I said.
We put down our rucksacks, and Georgina bought two coffees from the machine.
Georgina handed me my cup. “I’m going to wash that blood off your rucksack.”
“Thanks, Georgie,” I said. “Check your hands for any cuts, you can’t be too careful.”
“Ah yes. I’ll get some rubber gloves,” she said, and headed over to the reception desk.
People filtered through the foyer and I realised it was already visiting time. The small kiosk was doing a roaring trade in chrysanthemums and boxes of chocolates. Just as I thought I should enquire about the blonde woman, she returned with Inspector Harlow. She wept and the boy clung to her side. I felt my stomach churn.
The Inspector saw me watching them and spoke to the woman before he led them across.
“This is Katriina, Mrs Simpson. She was one of the students who found your husband. Where’s Max?” He looked around. “Max stayed with your husband while Katriina went for help.”
“Max is really upset. He’s gone for some air.” I searched for the right thing to say. “I’m really sorry for your loss.” I knew my words sounded woefully inadequate.
She held my hand. “Thank you… for being with Roy. And your friend Max.” Then almost to herself, she said, “I don’t know what Roy was doing up there, he’s always hated that mountain.”
I looked at the boy’s pale face and held back the urge to hug him. I shuddered. I tried to imagine how I might feel if either of my parents died, but the thought alone unsettled me.
The Inspector led them both away.
“Oh Georgie,” I said, and burst into tears.
Georgina wrapped her arms around me. “Come on,” she said. “We need to find the boys.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hunger
By the time we arrived at the campsite the other students had pitched their tents in a circle, and a small fire burned invitingly at the centre. They’d already bought food and alcohol from the village store, and stew and burgers cooked over the fire. The meaty aromas wafting my way reminded me how much I needed to eat.
In contrast to the storm on Benn Arum the sheltered valley was warm and tranquil. I looked around the beautiful campsite and felt the tension slip away. A mixture of birch, oak, and Scots pine trees lined one side of the field, interspersed with bright thickets of juniper and blackthorn. At the bottom of a gentle slope, a small loch sat serenely amongst the peaty grassland like a dazzling charm, and the setting sun danced across the rippling surface of the water. To the far end of the campsite, a burn glistened and meandered gracefully through the glen.
Max’s tent had been ruined, but he helped to put up my small ridge tent.
“Looks like it’s had plenty of use,” said Max, and straightened out another tent peg.
“I bought it for my first Duke of Edinburgh award.”
“I only did the bronze level,” Max said. “Still, I’m making up for it now.”
We ate burgers and sipped cheap plonk. The others gathered around, eager to hear the gory details.
As the autumn light began to fade, the campsite owner came over.
“I hope you’re not planning on having any parties or playing loud music. We don’t permit any noise after eleven. And no wacky backy - I know what you students are like,” he said.
“No problem sir,” James replied with a salute. “We had the rave last night. All out of drugs and recovering tonight, eh guys?”
The owner regarded us all, his eyes narrowed and unsmiling. “And make sure you put that fire out!” With that, he left us to it.
“We might want to come back here you great pillock,” Georgina said, and launched a chocolate digestive at James.
The burgers and stew tasted divine, and afterwards, we sat around the fire, drank m
ore wine and reflected on the day’s events. Without saying a word, Max got up and walked across to the burn.
“Will you shut up about the bloody dead man, can’t you see it’s upsetting Max,” said Richard.
I was concerned about Max, and I got up and followed him. Sitting on the bank, he gazed into the peat-stained water that flowed over smooth pale stones. I sat down beside him and looked at the dark wooded hillside beyond the burn, and in silence we listened to the last of the birds evening song. Although I wanted to talk, I was reluctant to speak first.
I was about to get up and leave him to his thoughts when he breathed a heavy sigh.
“You know you were amazing today, Katriina.”
I felt Max’s hand on my cheek, and he leaned in and kissed me. His lips were warm and soft, and I responded. We kissed long and deeply, and everything else fell away. It felt natural, and yet at the same time I was shocked. The intensity of the feelings that emerged from deep within me felt overwhelming.
Sometime later, reluctant, we pulled apart and gazed intently at one another. I think we both knew that today had been both terrible, and yet incredible at the same time. I touched his face and took in his features in the half-light. His mouth was wide with perfect teeth, but for one front incisor that overlapped another slightly. His eyes shone with a shared anticipation.
We walked back to the camp, our hands joined, without a hint of awkwardness. I noticed the others exchange knowing looks as we settled down and nestled together by the fire. I felt excited and happy, and despite the tragic death of the man earlier, I felt no shame for it.
As the others drifted away to their tents I stood up, took Max’s hand and pulled him to his feet.
“Are you tired?” Max asked, with an expectant smile.
“I should be,” I said, and tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and smiled back. “We can maybe talk for a bit?”
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