Gary had been right. When he’d called John on his way up the hill, he’d said that Liam had come out to his best mate and had a crush on him. When Gary then said how tearful Liam was, and how desperate to know Casper was safe, they suspected it was more than a crush. He’d been upset at Casper’s news, but more distressed that he was in danger, and to John, it sounded like something other than rampant teenage hormones. Gary had agreed, and he was far better at this kind of emotional conundrum than John.
Putting the pieces together, he guessed that Liam had been hoping for a better reaction than news Casper was leaving the country, and Liam would undoubtedly have been disappointed. Was that enough to cause one to attack the other? Doubtful, but then what did John know about teenage angst?
‘And what time did this all finish?’ he asked, returning to fact rather than speculation. ‘Any idea?’
‘Not really,’ Casper shrugged. ‘Around half seven, I think. I put the light out. Liam fell asleep, but I couldn’t.’
‘Because it was too early?’
‘No. I was exhausted. I’d not slept much the night before, and what with the walk and the cold weather… I just couldn’t settle, you know?’
‘So what did you do?’
‘Nothing. Listened to Liam’s breathing, well, as much as I could through the noise outside.’
‘Pretty scary, I imagine?’
Casper glared at him, insulted. ‘No.’
‘Good for you, mate.’ John pulled a frown. ‘Thunder scares the living daylights out of me. If I’d been up here, I would have shat myself.’ Not true, of course, but meant to be encouraging.
It worked. ‘Well, I was a bit,’ Casper admitted. ‘Never known anything like it. I lay hoping it would go away while trying to work out why Liam was so upset.’
‘The fact you’d told him you were buggering off to Greece, perhaps?’
Casper nodded sadly. ‘And my timing.’ When John didn’t understand, he said, ‘It’s his eighteenth birthday today. I could have waited.’
‘Ah.’
The porridge was bubbling, and John turned down the gas.
‘He could have told you he was gay earlier,’ he suggested. ‘Sounds like the timing would never have been right for either of you.’
‘Hm,’ was all Casper said.
‘So, you listened to the storm. Then what?’
‘Then I’m soaking wet, shivering, and Lee’s telling me to wake up. Then I was really hot, and Mozart said he was leaving.’
‘Mozart?’
‘Oh, it’s his nickname,’ Casper explained. ‘He’s a brilliant musician. Writes his own compositions, plays amazingly. He’s working on the Chopin etudes. I mean, playing them, not writing one. We play together.’
The sudden change in the lad was reassuring. Recently a helpless casualty who had wet himself in a fit of rigors as his body tried to adjust its temperature, and a moment ago a sullen, introverted teenager, he was suddenly talking fluently and with enthusiasm. Better, he was remembering. They were long-term memories, perhaps, and John needed to check his short-term recall, but it was too good an opportunity to miss, and John leapt on it.
‘Have you known each other long?’
‘Not too long,’ Casper said, resting on one elbow. ‘We met when we were sixteen. I’d moved schools to join their sixth-form college, but I met him in my first week. He was playing the piano in this tiny practice room, and I just had to stop and listen. Anyway, the music teacher ordered us to team up, and we did a Mozart oboe piece in a concert.’
The words were falling from his lips faster than the rain on the tent, so much so, that John began to worry about delayed on-set delirium.
‘I’d never met anyone who understood my playing so readily.’ Casper’s eyes were dancing. ‘I play the oboe. Not the easiest thing to accompany, and when I’ve played with others, even my teacher, you find the piano tends to take over, but not when Lee’s playing for me. It’s like he understands how I want the piece to go, you see? I mean, we talk about it, but he’s more interested in what’s best for me and takes his keyboard fluency down so that my performance comes across as the most important. He’s got a very generous way of accompanying.’
‘Yeah, okay, champ, slow it down.’ Perhaps John had put too much sugar in the tea. ‘Take a breath. I can see you think a lot of him.’
‘Oh, best mate, for sure.’
‘And how come you ended up here?’
‘Climbing group,’ Casper said with hardly any letup. ‘I’d never thought of it, but when Lee told me he was in this group they have, and I could join, I agreed. It didn’t go down too well with the track team as I had to miss events and training, but I just wanted to give it a go.’
Track team, athletics, the lad was fit; another reason his recovery was taking less time than expected.
‘So, you joined because Liam was in the group?’
‘Yes. I wouldn’t have done it without him suggesting it. I enjoy climbing, don’t get me wrong, but being honest, I enjoy watching him more. It’s like his playing, he shins up those cliffs like he’s been doing it all his life.’
‘But you weren’t climbing up here, so the head injury isn’t from a fall. Is that right?’
‘Yes. We were only hiking. Liam wanted to see Ribblehead.’
‘Understandable, it’s quite a sight, but you’ve come a long way to look at a valley.’
‘It’s the viaduct. When his mum…’ Casper’s flow of words suddenly dried to a trickle. ‘But it doesn’t look like we’ll get there now.’
‘No reason why you shouldn’t.’ John turned off the gas. ‘As long as the weather breaks as forecast, we’ll be back home by nightfall, and all being well, the two of you can be on your way tomorrow.’
‘You think so?’
‘Assuming you still want to continue your journey together.’
Casper fell silent as John poured the porridge into two billy cans.
‘Do you?’ John asked.
Casper regarded him with drooping eyes which were no longer dark-rimmed, although their glint, so obvious when he had been talking about Liam, had dulled.
‘If he’s still speaking to me.’
‘I think he’s desperate to speak to you, mate.’ John said, and because it felt right, winked.
Casper looked away. Whatever John had insinuated had made him blush, an excellent indication that his circulation was returning to normal.
‘Your row, or whatever it was, I’m sure he’s regretting it as much as you.’
‘It was my fault,’ Casper sighed. ‘I’m no good at…’ Breaking off, he shook his head. ‘Doesn’t matter.’
‘It matters that you remember what made you go outside,’ John said, worried that he’d hit a nerve that would interrupt the flow of memories. ‘You’re sure you weren’t upset because you found out he was gay?’
Another shake of the head but no words.
‘Did you think he’d brought you up here on some false pretence?’
‘Like what?’
‘To get you on your own?’ John was grabbing at possibilities as a slipping climber grabs at impossible handholds.
‘No.’ Casper was outraged, and John changed tack.
‘Okay, so did you need to take a leak?’
‘What?’
‘Something made you get up and leave the tent.’
‘Yeah, the rucksack.’
Simultaneously, they stopped eating and stared at each other.
‘What about it?’
Casper looked away, thinking, and his eyes slowly travelled to the tent entrance. Pointing his spoon, he said, ‘It was out here in the porch. We put it there because it was no good.’
‘A spelunker’s rucksack was no good?’ John put down his bowl and move
d closer. ‘I’d have said the opposite. No energy bars, water, oversuit? Those guys pack light, but they pack well.’
‘Just a couple of ropes and some old clothes,’ Casper mumbled.
‘That was all?’ John couldn’t believe it.
Casper threw him a glance, and continued eating, saying nothing.
‘You’re sure?’
The lad shrugged.
‘Okay.’ There was no point pressing the matter, but there was still something left unsaid. ‘So, what was it about the rucksack that made you go outside?’
‘I’m not sure.’
The overhead lamp flickered and dimmed a fraction, and John checked the time.
‘Has that been on all night?’
‘No,’ Casper said. ‘I turned it off when Liam turned over. We lay in the dark.’
‘So, it’s been on since about midnight.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘It’s my job,’ John said. ‘We can let it run out, I’ve got another, and it will be light soon.’
‘Wait. The light…’
‘Go on.’
‘Yes,’ Casper beamed at him momentarily, but the smile quickly faded. ‘I might have been sleeping, I don’t know, but I remember there was this light, just there outside the tent. Not lightning because it stayed on and moved around. A torch. All I could hear was the storm, but then someone unzipped the tent. I must have thought they were going to rob us. I wasn’t sure where I was at first, and I don’t remember trying to wake Lee. I must have just gone straight for them.’
‘Them?’
‘It. Whoever was out there.’
‘You went for them?’
‘Yes. Hell, it was freezing. My coat was right here, but I didn’t think of it. I got outside and saw the torch, so I ran towards it. I’m sure I had my hand on the bag, and then…’ He broke off and swallowed. ‘Then I’m back in here, and Lee says he’s leaving me to get help.’
The memory explained a great deal but also raised other questions. John kept his thoughts to himself.
‘Good man, Casper,’ he said. ‘Eat your porridge now and then rest.’
They ate in silence. Now that John had as much information as he was going to learn, he was able to process events. Nothing was yet provable, but it was obvious that the rucksack’s owner had come after it — not something an experienced caver or mountaineer, not even a rambler, would have done in that weather. Whoever owned it, was desperate, and the questions were who and why? Their answers weren’t John’s concern, his casualty was, and as he watched Casper eat, and later, sleep, he couldn’t help feeling that although his physical condition was improving, his emotional state still needed attention. There was plenty he wasn’t saying, but unless John was wrong, there was also plenty he was suffering.
Gary would have known how to deal with a troubled eighteen-year-old and was probably having better luck with Liam back at the house. At least the guy seemed able to talk about what was on his mind, whereas Casper was reticent, ashamed almost, but was it John’s job to worry about two young strangers who’d had a falling out?
Casper had a vulnerability about him which made John decide, yes, and as he waited for the weather and the day to pass, he concluded that the lad needed more than a physical rescue.
Later that morning, he slipped from the tent to check in with Gary. The wind speed was decreasing but still biting, and a stinging drizzle persisted. After a brief chat about the weather report and taking the decision that John would bring Casper down when the rain let up, but no later than two because of the fading light, he asked after Liam. As expected, since learning that Casper was going to be fine, he had spent most of his time sleeping.
‘Did Liam say anything about this mysterious rucksack?’ John asked. ‘Like what was in it?’
‘No. Why?’
‘There’s something the other one’s keeping to himself. It looks like someone came for it, he tried to stop them, and was knocked out.’
‘Looking for it in these conditions?’
‘Quite.’
‘I’ll see if I can find out more.’
‘Thanks,’ John said. ‘And while you’re about it, there’s something else going on, but he’s not talking.’
‘Ain’t you the lucky one,’ Gary laughed. ‘This one didn’t shut up about bloody Casper for hours.’
‘It’s not really my business, but still… Ah, I don’t know.’
‘You’re an old softie, Mr Hamilton. But then, so am I. Poor lads.’
‘Young love, eh?’ John smiled into the receiver, picturing Gary’s face.
‘Aye. Shame it’s only one way.’
‘That’s the thing,’ John said. ‘I’m not so sure it is. Speak later. Over and out.’
Sixteen
The weather began to break at one thirty as John repacked his equipment. Calling home, he learned that Liam was awake, much improved, and once again asking about Casper, awaiting his arrival like a child anticipates Christmas. John relayed the news that he would be leaving shortly, agreed call-in times and asked Gary to file a report to the MRT which he would add to later. They had decided to undertake the rescue themselves, so it hadn’t been an official MRT intervention, but they had used some of the organisation’s resources, and that needed to be logged. Gary told him he had contacted Julie at the café and asked if anyone had returned a blue rucksack, but no-one had. Julie, however, said she would let them know if she learnt anything.
With nothing more to be done apart from walk Casper to safety, John turned to prepare the lad and found him already awake.
‘Liam still talking about me?’ he queried.
‘Sounds like it,’ John said. ‘Keen to see you, and we don’t want to disappoint. Here’s how it’s going to work. The weather’s clearing, but we only have a couple of hours. The ground’s going to be soggy in places, and the runoff might still be flooded, but if it is, we’ll have enough time to drop down and cross further east where the beck splits and…’ Casper was confused. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ John said. ‘You’ll see, but it’s going to be relatively easy. First, though, I need to make sure you are up to it.’
‘I feel fine.’
‘Your feet?’
‘Yeah, they’re still a bit numb, but my head doesn’t hurt.’
‘Okay.’ John handed him a spare helmet. ‘See if you can get that on.’
‘What’s this for?’ Casper asked, taking it. ‘Are we climbing?’
‘No. It’s in case you stumble. Don’t want another injury. I’ll be wearing mine. Good practise is all. Can you put it on without aggravating that bump?’
Casper felt the back of his head. ‘Feels like it’s going down.’
‘Aye, you’re a strong lad. A brave one, too.’
‘Brave?’ Casper huffed a laugh. ‘Hardly. I pissed my pants.’
‘It happens.’
‘You’re not going to tell him, are you?’ Casper was putting on the hard hat when he stopped and looked fearful. ‘Please don’t.’
‘Mate,’ John smiled. ‘By the sound of it, I could tell him you’d shat yourself, and he wouldn’t care. He only wants to see you safe.’
The lad shrugged as if he wasn’t bothered, but John caught the faintest glimmer of happiness in the otherwise stoic expression.
‘Right then.’ John turned his attention to practicalities. ‘I need you to get yourself out of the bag, put on your jacket, crawl outside and stand. I’ll go first.’
The rain had stopped, but with less cloud cover, the temperature had fallen. The wind, until then a constant, noisy companion, had dropped to a quiet, but penetrating breeze, although John wasn’t concerned. Casper was well insulated, and he would wear his own coat, for what good it would do.
Going ahead,
he crouched by the tent and watched Casper crawl free before making him stand on his own. There was no wavering, only blinking against the grey daylight and a slight watering of the eyes caused by the breeze.
‘Take a couple of steps towards me,’ John instructed, and Casper obeyed. ‘No problem there. Turn around.’ Again, no problem. ‘Can you touch your toes?’
‘Not wearing all this,’ Casper said, and John laughed.
‘Try.’
The lad bent as far as he could, but it wasn’t a test of agility, John needed to check his balance, and it was fine.
‘Excellent. Get yourself back inside. We’ll have another brew, and then we’re off.’
‘Can I have a pee first?’
‘Good idea.’
They stood facing downwind, not too close to each other, but close enough for John, with a furtive glance, to register any stability issues and see the colour of the lad’s urine to check his hydration. There was no cause for concern, and by the time they’d zipped up, John was satisfied that the lad could walk off the hill.
Back in the tent, while John brewed tea, Casper repacked Liam’s rucksack insisting that he would take everything.
‘He’s particular about his possessions,’ he said. ‘And won’t want me to leave anything.’
‘I’ll carry the tent,’ John said, once everything was packed away and they were drinking.
‘No. I’ll take it.’
‘No need. You’ve got enough.’
‘I want to.’
Casper was insistent, and John knew why. The lad thought more of his friend than he let on, but found it embarrassing to admit. When he spoke of Liam, his enthusiasm gave him away, and added to that were the little things. Tiny clues that Casper left without realising. Knowing just how Liam liked things to be; how Casper found more joy in watching Liam climb than the sport itself; the way he berated himself for his failings which weren’t any such thing, but were signs that he wanted to be able to show how much he cared, but didn’t know how; and blushing when he learned how much Liam talked about him. It was sweet to see and yet sad. Maybe it was Casper’s upbringing, but he had trouble squaring the circle and making it fit, the circle being what he felt for Liam as a friend, and the square being Liam’s sexuality. Possibly Casper’s own.
The Students of Barrenmoor Ridge Page 18