Working Wonders

by Jenny Colgan

  ‘Yeah, but I think Sandwiches had his eyes shut, too,’ said Sven, leaning over to check on his dog.

  ‘They are bastards,’ said Marcus, straightening up and seeing what was in front of him. ‘One hundred per cent diamond carat, A1 solid bastards.’

  It was, finally, warm inside the sleeping bags. Outside, the wind was buffeting the earth relentlessly, but inside, the absurdity of the situation felt far away and slightly dreamlike to Gwyneth, who could do nothing but focus on radiating warmth over the huge, buff body in her arms.

  Gradually, slowly, she felt him stir. His hands moved, and a huge shiver passed all the way up and down his body. Then, after a pause, he gently took her small hands in his large ones, and slowly, slowly, began to turn round to face her.

  He still wasn’t saying anything, but she saw by his eyes that he was awake and fully concentrating on her. He put his hand up to her face and stroked it softly.

  ‘Rafe,’ she said, but whispered this time, feeling a lump in her throat that wouldn’t dissolve.

  ‘Ssh,’ he said. He stroked her face again. ‘You know, the Chinese say that if you save the life of a man, he is yours forever.’

  And he pulled her towards him as gently as the sky outside was wild.

  The five of them stood, high above Wales, staring straight ahead. In the distance could be seen a camp fire. This was undoubtedly their camp. It was, however, on the peak of the next hill. It wasn’t far away, but you’d still have to crawl down the valley and up again.

  But linking the two hills was an odd triangular wire construction. There was one wire at the bottom, and two strands at waist height, attached to the bottom wire with zig-zags. It looked like a bridge, but a bridge with nothing to walk across.

  ‘Shit,’ said Arthur. ‘Shit shit shit shit!’

  The others, bar Cathy, gradually drew closer to the structure.

  ‘What the hell are you meant to do?’ said Sven.

  ‘I think – well, you hang onto to the top wires and walk along the bottom,’ said Marcus.

  ‘They must be joking.’

  ‘They must have left safety ropes around here somewhere,’ said Arthur, dropping to his hands and knees with the flashlight. But there was nothing to be found.

  Marcus turned round 360 degrees. There was absolutely no sign of human habitation anywhere, except in the winking light of the campfire. As it had grown dark, the cold had reasserted itself, and he thought he could feel drops of rain in the wind.

  ‘Oh God,’ he said.

  ‘I’m not sure Sandwiches can walk across a wire,’ said Sven pensively. ‘He’s got twice the appropriate number of legs.’

  ‘So have I,’ said Arthur, ‘by virtue of not being a monorail.’

  Marcus gingerly took hold of the wires and stepped bravely out, keeping one foot firmly on land. The whole structure wobbled alarmingly. Swallowing audibly, Marcus tentatively lifted his other foot on. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he was still there.

  ‘Well done, Marcus.’ Arthur found he was smiling, even in the middle of their predicament. The idea of Marcus volunteering to climb a high wire up a windy mountain in Wales in mid-winter was not one he had ever dreamed of, and he was proud of him.

  ‘Well done!’

  Cathy was standing in the dead centre of the hilltop, shaking like a leaf. Arthur went to her, while Sven lit the way for Marcus, who was tentatively moving forward now. Sven wondered aloud if Sandwiches could jump that far (it was at least thirty feet).

  ‘Hey,’ Arthur said.

  ‘I’m not doing it,’ said Cathy. ‘I can’t. There’s just no way.’

  ‘I know,’ said Arthur.

  ‘So you can’t try and talk me out of it, or anything.’

  ‘God, no. Wouldn’t dream of it.’

  ‘I shouldn’t even have come here. It was meant to be Rafe, not me. I’m only good at being in the office.’

  ‘You’re very good at being in the office.’

  She looked up at him. ‘I don’t want to … I know it sounds silly, but I feel like someone could die out here.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Arthur. ‘No one’s going to die.’

  Cathy looked around into the wild night. ‘It’s ridiculous. I’m imagining I can hear wolves howling.’

  Arthur stiffened.

  ‘Can you?’

  ‘No, no of course not. It’s just Sven farting, most likely.’

  They stood there for a while, looking into the gloomy blackness. Stars were coming out overhead, but there was nothing in the countryside around them to illuminate.

  Arthur suddenly thought of Ross’s team. He imagined them tucked up right now in their cosy camp beds, gloating and planning their tactics for tomorrow, and here they were, stranded on the top of a hill, half the team missing …

  He shook his head. ‘Cathy,’ he said.

  She looked at him. ‘You’re going to ask me to do this, aren’t you?’ she said.

  ‘Cathy, we’re on the top of a mountain.’

  She nodded. ‘Can’t you get me a helicopter?’

  ‘I forgot my RAC card.’

  Some way in front of them, they could just make out Marcus. He was about halfway across, and Sven was shouting encouragement.

  ‘Look how well Marcus is doing,’ said Arthur. ‘We could have it all over and done with that quickly.’

  Cathy looked up at him, her eyes suddenly large in her chubby face. ‘What are you most frightened of?’

  Arthur blinked at the question. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean,’ said Cathy, her voice rising slightly in panic, ‘that I want you to know what being up here is like for me. That’s all.’

  ‘Well,’ said Arthur. He turned round and stared into the thick velvet blackness, thinking as he did so of the streetlights in his cul-de-sac and how he never saw the dark; not really. There was always an electric sheen rising off wherever he went, wherever he was.

  ‘I just want … I just want not to cock things up, really. I feel … this is going to sound silly, but I feel I’ve got this destiny that I’m meant to live up to and it’s really important that I do things properly. And I’ve failed and failed a lot up until now, but things have been – are going – the right way, and I’m worried about letting myself down …’

  Cathy was looking at him.

  ‘And wolves. And snakes. And religious fundamentalists. And I don’t like that chemical stuff at the bottom of crisp packets.’

  Cathy came forward. ‘You know, everyone feels that way, about missing their destiny, about what they’re supposed to be.’

  ‘Yes, but mine is a real destiny,’ said Arthur.

  ‘Mine too,’ said Cathy.

  ‘Really? Does everyone think that way?’ Arthur grimaced. ‘I thought I’d been chosen specially.’

  ‘Uh huh,’ said Cathy.

  ‘Well,’ said Arthur. ‘This is yours.’

  Marcus was waving frantically from the middle of the bridge.

  ‘It’s okay!’ he was yelling, his voice almost lost in the wind. ‘Come on! It’s okay!’

  They stood around Cathy and gave her a huge hug. Ordinarily, this would have elicited loud snorts from Sven, thought Arthur, but here on top of this mountain, when they felt like the only people in the world, it seemed like the right thing to do.

  ‘You can do it,’ said Sven. ‘If, you know, I’m not so fat I break the whole wire.’

  ‘You’re not so fat,’ said Cathy. Sven actually smiled.

  ‘Go between Marcus,’ – Marcus was now hopping up and down the wire as if he’d been born to it; Arthur was worried he was going to start doing tricks – ‘and me. We’ll let Sven bring up the rear just in case …’

  ‘Thanks for spoiling a nice moment,’ said Sven. ‘But aren’t we forgetting someone?’

  Sandwiches was looking at the gently swaying wire bridge with a very disconsolate expression.

  Arthur asked Marcus, who was coming back to help, ‘Can you take him in the
rucksack?’

  Marcus screwed up his face to complain, then smiled instead. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘He can join Marcus’s official high wire act.’

  But of course it didn’t feel quite as comical once they were all finally on the bridge. Marcus, with Sandwiches peering out the back of his rucksack with complete equanimity, wobbled over first. Then they cuddled and cajoled Cathy onto the wire.

  ‘I’m keeping my eyes closed,’ she warned them.

  ‘That’s the way! Well done!’ shouted Arthur. Not at all it was the way, as the wind swayed the bridge alarmingly. After a tense moment halfway across when she froze completely – until the other three started up a rousing chant of ‘CATH-EE! CATH-EE!’ – she finally, painfully, made it to the other side and fell into Marcus’s arms. Arthur felt an amazing burst of energy.

  ‘Whoo hoo!’ he screamed over the gap. ‘You did it!’

  Cathy waved back, smiling hugely. ‘I KNOW!!!!’

  He realized the full extent of her bravery as he wobbled across himself, trying not to peer into the abyss beneath his feet. Yet somehow, on top of the wire, balanced in mid-air in the middle of nowhere, muscles aching with weariness, he felt a sense of being as alive under the stars as he had ever known.

  The campsite was a rough affair: two tents and a fire, nothing more. They literally collapsed in front of it, legs dropping underneath them. Next to the fire were four packets of soup.

  ‘Soup!’ said Marcus. ‘We do all that bollocks and all we get is soup?’

  ‘This is starvation rations,’ said Arthur, nervously.

  Sven ponderously opened up his rucksack.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve got food in there,’ said Cathy. The Toblerone was long gone.

  ‘Yes,’ said Sven. The others jumped up. ‘Unfortunately,’ he added, ‘it’s not for us.’ And he deposited two cans of Pedigree Chum on the ground.

  ‘Sven!’ said Arthur.

  ‘Well, I didn’t know, did I? I assumed they’d feed us.’

  ‘They have,’ said Marcus. ‘Soup.’

  ‘Well, look on the bright side,’ said Cathy comfortingly. ‘They’re not trying to kill us quite as much now.’

  They stared at the Pedigree Chum, all thinking the same thing.

  ‘I’m so hungry,’ said Marcus.

  ‘We couldn’t,’ said Cathy.

  ‘And you’re not going to!’ said Sven. ‘Sandwiches!’

  Sandwiches had wandered off.

  ‘That’s all we need – a lost dog,’ said Arthur.

  ‘My dog does not get lost. He goes out on business.’

  ‘Okay.’

  After fifteen minutes, as they huddled round the fire trying not to think about the consequences of the disappearance of Sandwiches, he returned with something in his mouth, looking rather smug.

  ‘Euk!’ Cathy jumped up and screamed when she saw what it was. ‘Rabbits!’

  ‘Rabbits!’ said Sven, in an entirely different tone of voice.

  Arthur watched in amazement as Sven bent down and took the gift from the dog’s mouth.

  ‘Don’t tell me you know what to do with those,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never skinned a rabbit,’ said Sven.

  ‘Of course I’ve never skinned a rabbit! I’m a town planner, for Christ’s sake!’

  Sven pulled out a knife from his rucksack. ‘In Denmark, we would call you a fejghed,’ he said.

  ‘What does that mean? Completely normal person who for completely normal reasons doesn’t like ripping the guts out of furry animals?’

  ‘Yes, you think that,’ said Sven, getting stuck in.

  Rabbit cooked in soup, followed by Maltesers, washed down by water that tasted suspiciously of sheep dip wouldn’t have been Arthur’s usual top choice, but he was surprised how wonderful things tasted when you were starving hungry. As the others rolled away towards the tents – and fell asleep instantly, he could tell, completely worn out by the fresh air and the exercise – he stayed by the fire, looking into the embers and letting his thoughts drift – to tomorrow, to Gwyneth, to what would happen after this was over; to finally, and almost for the first time, thinking what it might be like to win this competition. He couldn’t tell how much time had passed in his reverie or whether he had even come out of it when, with a complete lack of surprise, he glanced up to find Lynne sitting beside him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Hello!’ he said cheerfully.

  ‘Ssh! The others are asleep.’

  ‘Oh yes, and I’m not. Right. Uh huh. Yeah.’

  He looked at her. She appeared to be wearing some kind of pheasant on her head, and was wrapped in several layers of tweed.

  ‘It’s so good to see you. Where have you been?’

  ‘Oh, here and there, tossed on the wind. Well, actually, I had a spot of twin trouble. Nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. Both dead of course. Mad as eggs.’

  Arthur didn’t quite know what to say to this, so he turned back to stare into the fire.

  Lynne looked at him, noting that he looked tired around the eyes and somehow … different to when she had seen him last. Firmer, somehow. There was a set to his jaw that hadn’t been there before. She sensed determination.

  ‘How goes it?’ she asked him gently.

  ‘It’s crazy,’ said Arthur. ‘Is that why you’re here? To ask how things are going on this ridiculous exercise?’ He plucked at the grass beside him.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I didn’t think so.’

  She turned to him. ‘Arthur.’

  His face when he turned towards her was stricken.

  ‘I’m here to warn you. Tomorrow is going to be … difficult, beyond, I think, your imagining.’

  He stood up. ‘I thought it might be something like that. You’re always asking me to do things …’

  ‘Yes, well, that’s part of the – what is it I’m meant to be again?’

  ‘A psychotherapist.’

  ‘Yes, that. Come, walk with me a while.’

  They strode away from the fire, to the edge of the cliff, and wandered along it.

  ‘Have you … come to help me?’ said Arthur, realizing as he spoke that he sounded weak.

  Lynne shook her head. ‘No. But to prepare you a little.’

  ‘What do you know?’ said Arthur. ‘Been sneaking into the plans? No, no, destiny, blah blah, yes. You said.’

  ‘You’re being very touchy.’

  ‘Well, you just turned up to tell me that something horrible’s about to happen.’

  ‘Oh yes. Sorry!’

  They looked out at the stars.

  ‘You are going to have to make a choice tomorrow.’

  Arthur hardly dared to breathe in case he missed anything.

  ‘It will be very important. Very.’

  ‘Okay. What do I do?’

  Lynne looked at him.

  ‘You’re not going to tell me, are you?’

  ‘Destiny’s rubbish like that.’

  ‘Well, how am I going to know?’

  She put her hand on his arm, and he realized it was the first time they had ever touched.

  ‘You just have to be aware. And be ready. It’s very important.’

  ‘This isn’t going to be between the continental and the cooked breakfast, is it?’

  She shook her head and looked at him sadly.

  ‘Okay,’ said Arthur.

  ‘You’re doing well,’ she said.

  ‘Do you really think so?’ said Arthur, moving back to the heat of the fire. But of course, when he turned around, she’d gone.

  Sven wasn’t usually an early riser. In fact, before Sven had been allowed to bring him into work, Sandwiches had been a bit of a latchkey dog. This morning, however, Sven found himself squashed up against the door of the tent the men were sharing just before the sun came over the horizon. He got up to relieve himself and, in the early morning chill, was pleasantly surprised by the beauty of the surround
ings. Sandwiches came bounding up joyfully – Arthur had thrown him out of the tent four times for threatening to asphyxiate the company – and man and dog walked on a little. The sky had cleared and was turning a watery blue. Sven thought it might be the first day of the year they could see the sun.

  From where the tents were pitched on the side of the cliff, the vista was breathtaking. The next hill – from where they’d crossed on the wire – rose on his left, crumbling away to chalk in steps that had been cut away from the side. Down in the valley, so far it could hardly be seen, was the river they had crossed. At this distance it looked like a calm silver thread, not the torrent he remembered. Then he turned round and for the first time saw what was above him. He gasped. Perched several hundred feet higher up was a small ruined castle that had obviously been invisible from below the cliff the night before. It had no roof and ivy climbed in and out of the empty windows. Sven stared at it for a long time, rubbing his sore muscles from yesterday. In his mind, he knew that was where they would be going today. For a reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, it gave him a terrible sense of foreboding – well, it was a spooky ruined castle, he supposed.

  He scratched Sandwiches affectionately and decided to head back to find a can of dog food. All of a sudden he heard his name being called.

  ‘Sven! Sven!!!’

  He looked around to find the source of the noise. It was coming from just under the lip of the hill. As he moved towards it, Gwyneth’s blonde head popped over the ridge.

  ‘Sven!’

  ‘Fuck a duck!’ said Sven. Gwyneth, normally so immaculate, was absolutely filthy. Her jeans were torn and dirty, her fleece and puffa jacket in a terrible state. She sounded perky, though. Behind her was Rafe. He too was dirty, and had big dark shadows underneath his eyes and a slightly haunted expression on his face.

  ‘Where did you two just spring from?’

  Rafe and Gwyneth glanced at each other, just for a split second, as Arthur came out of the tent to see what all the commotion was about. His hair was sticking up all round his head, and he was yawning hugely. Despite the uncomfortable ground and awkward proximity of the other men, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so deeply.

  ‘Fuck a duck!’ he said. ‘What are you two doing here?’ He paused. ‘Did Sven just say that?’