The Mafia Emblem

by Michael Hillier

  - 44 -

  Ben could only crouch and watch helplessly as Francesca swung away from the fixed rope in a long, arcing pendulum. Luckily he’d got the safety rope locked round the figure of eight and was able to hold her quite easily as her weight brought the rope taut at the bottom of its swing.

  “Don’t worry,” he soothed as she swung slowly to a halt. “You’re quite safe. Just relax a second.”

  “The harness is hurting me.” There was a note of panic in her voice. It has slid up around my chest. I can’t breathe properly.”

  “It’s all right. I’ll get you another rope. We’ll soon solve that problem.”

  Ben checked the distance carefully. She was about fifteen feet below him. From this narrow, sloping shelf he couldn’t get sufficient purchase to lift her up. He would have to get up onto the terrace.

  “Please hurry. I’m frightened my ribs may break.”

  “It’s just coming.”

  He put a clove hitch on the safety rope and rested his foot on it to secure it. This left his hands free to get a rope to her. He grabbed at the trailing end of the fixed rope hanging down from the parapet. It was plenty long enough. He pulled it up and measured approximately the right length. Then he fashioned a large noose with a running bowline and dropped it down to her, holding it as close to the cliff as he could.

  “Here you are, Francesca. Can you get your foot into the loop?” He forced himself to speak quietly and calmly.

  She tried, gasping with panic and shortness of breath. The first time she kicked too violently and almost missed it, knocking the rope away from her.

  “Use your hand to hold it steady. Don’t worry. You won’t strangle.”

  She had another go and this time she caught her foot in the knot. With a bit of a wriggle she got her instep into the loop. Ben decided he’d made it a bit short, but that didn’t matter too much. He allowed the rope to go taut under her weight.

  “That’s OK. Can you get your second foot in beside the first?”

  She did as she was told.

  “Now then, link an arm round this hanging rope and then get your thumbs under the harness round your chest. That’s good. Can you pull the rope down?”

  “Yes. I – I think so.”

  The next moment her relieved face was looking up at him. “Oh,” she exhaled, “that’s better.”

  “Fine. Just stay there and rest for a few minutes. In order to pull you up I’ll have to climb onto the terrace. Can you wait for a few minutes?”

  She nodded, her face white in the darkness. “You won’t be too long , will you? I don’t think I’ll be able to hang on much longer.”

  She was tired and frightened and getting near to breaking point. Time was important. Ben wouldn’t have time to do this the proper way with anchors on the cliff-face. He knew that Francesca wouldn’t be able to help herself much when the hard work started. But he had to try a straight pull.

  As quickly as he could he went back up the wall and over the parapet. He checked it out. Luckily the masons had built strongly and he was confident it would take the light load of her body.

  “Are you ready?” he called down. “I’m going to start pulling you up. Mind you, it may take some time, because I’m not as strong as I was earlier this evening. Try and keep the safety rope taut if you can. Take a loop about your wrists as I showed you.”

  He gripped the rope behind the parapet and tried to pull. But the friction was too great. He leaned over again and called down to her. “Have you got that safety rope taut?”

  “I – I don’t know.”

  She took a couple of turns about the wrists. The fall appeared to have knocked the stuffing out of her. She seemed to have lost the ability to help herself.

  “Right, when I tell you to pull, try and take as much of your weight on the safety rope as possible to help me with the lifting.” Ben took a grip on the rope below the parapet.

  “Are you ready?” He braced himself. “Pull!”

  He wasn’t sure whether she had heard at first. But the tension in the lead rope seemed to relax slightly and Ben gave it a sudden desperate heave. He was able to pull her up about three feet before his strength gave out. Holding the line taut he edged backwards to the creeper and secured the slack end above the fixed rope.

  He leaned over the parapet. “Now take up the slack on the rope round your wrists then you’ll be ready to help again when I tell you I’m going to do the next lift.” He nodded encouragingly. “That’s right.”

  On each subsequent pull he became a little weaker and it took nearly ten heaves to get her head up to the level of the shelf. Ben could feel his strength beginning to give out.

  “Hang on there,” he told her. “I’m coming down for you now.”

  She didn’t seem to be able to reply any more. Ben secured the rope again and went back over the parapet and down to the shelf. He clipped himself on to the safety rope. Then he reached down with both hands, grabbed her unceremoniously by the jacket and dragged her onto the ledge. She collapsed in a shivering heap. He could tell that she was nearly at the end of her reserves now. But he still couldn’t leave her in this position.

  “Come on,” he ordered her roughly. “We’ve got to get up this last bit. Stand up and catch hold of the rope”

  He half lifted her into a standing position. He tied the fixed rope around her back and under her armpits in a loose bowline. Then he got his shoulder behind her little rounded buttocks and heaved her up until her hands were over the edge of the parapet. He belayed the loose end of the rope to support her feet.

  “Stay there and I’ll go up and pull you over.”

  He used the final burst of his own strength to free climb up the masonry for the third time. Sitting astride the parapet, he grabbed her by the belt of her jeans and the back of her anorak and dumped her unceremoniously onto the terrace. She collapsed on the paving, clinging gratefully to the solid stones while he released her from the ropes. Then he pulled her to her feet and helped her to the shelter of the creeper.

  He put his arms round her and began to massage her back and shoulders and buttocks, trying to rub warmth and life back into her tense and knotted muscles. After a while she began to sob silently into his shoulder. He spoke to her like a child, trying to find the soft caressing words to make her feel safe again.

  “There now. You’re all right. Don’t worry. You won’t have to do it again. You did fine. I’m proud of you.” He murmured other things which she wouldn’t understand. He told himself they were just endearments to relax her.

  At last she began to unwind. Her breathing slowed and her crying ceased. She looked up at him with a tear-stained face. “I’m sorry, Ben,” she sobbed. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You’ve just done a climb that most inexperienced people wouldn’t even be able to contemplate. You’ve really done ever so well.”

  “No – I’m sorry about what I said to you – what I said this morning. I just didn’t realize what you must have gone through after that climb when – when Carlos died.”

  “Oh that.” Ben grinned. “You shouldn’t worry about that. It was just what I needed. I probably wouldn’t have had the guts to do the climb without you needling me.” He patted her shoulder. “You’ve succeeded in getting me climbing again after nearly two years.”

  She looked deep into his eyes. “But I had no right to talk to you like that. Donna was right. I was so stupid. I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

  “Shush,” he said gently. “Forget it. Don’t talk about it any more.”

  “You ought to put me across your knee and spank me. You must hate me for the way I’ve behaved to you.”

  “Hate you?” Ben looked down at her in surprise. “How could I ever hate you?”

  Francesca’s lovely, tear-besmirched face was very near to him. “Do you promise?”

  Her voice had a little lilt at the end and it was that which made him kiss her – that and the half-open lip
s, the very soft lips. He knew that he shouldn’t really do that to a girl of good Italian family. But to his surprise he found that she didn’t object. In fact the hands which clasped around his neck seemed to have recovered a surprising amount of strength. Her face was deliciously wet and salty. The skin of her cheeks and nose were cold. But her lips were burning hot and trembling slightly. And they were – oh, so soft!