by Wendy Clarke
With a chuckle, she picked up a couple of empty glasses from the table next to them, then walked away, pausing to say a few words to the man before lifting the flap and going back behind the bar.
Leo picked up the bottle and poured them both another drink. ‘You’ll be on in a minute. With this inside you, you won’t care whether they cheer or boo.’
‘Don’t say that!’
‘I’m only kidding, Ria. You’ll be great. You just need to show them what a proper song sounds like.’
There was a small raised area in the corner of the room that, from the look of the small screen attached to the wall, was used for karaoke. As the music quietened, and the bar manager nodded at her, Ria felt the butterflies that had been in her stomach all afternoon multiply. Tipping her glass, she swallowed a large mouthful of wine, then stood up. Her guitar was leaning against the wall. Picking it up, she walked over to the makeshift stage and placed the strap over her neck before plugging it into the small amplifier and adjusting the microphone to the right height.
‘Can you hear me all right?’ Her voice sounded unnatural. Unlike her own.
If she’d been hoping for a lull in the conversation, she was wrong. One or two people turned towards her, but most carried on talking. Unsure of what to do, Ria strummed a chord and then another. Taking a deep breath, she tried to imagine she was in the bedroom of her flat, sitting cross-legged on the bed, playing only for herself. It seemed to work and, as her body and mind responded to the music, she started to relax.
Moving closer to the microphone, Ria began to sing a number by Dido. It was one of her favourites and she knew it suited her voice. As the words fell from her lips, she found she was no longer nervous. Not caring whether or not anyone was paying her attention, she closed her eyes and let the music take her. She was singing for herself and for Leo who, since the day they’d enrolled at university, had been her best friend and confidant.
But, as she opened her eyes again, she realised that there was someone else she was hoping to impress. It was impossible not to look across at the bar to see if he was watching. Her eyes scanned the men who stood there but, to her disappointment, he was no longer there.
Her voice faltered, but then she saw him. He had moved closer and was leaning against the wall to her right, a glass of beer in his hand, and the sight of him made her heart lurch. What was the matter with her? This time he wasn’t looking at her, but at the floor, as though concentrating on the words.
The bar was quieter now and more people were looking her way. Some of the women were mouthing the words along with her and Ria felt her lips curve into a smile. As she did, the man lifted his head and their eyes met. He didn’t return her smile, but neither did he look away. It was as if an understanding had passed between them and, in those few seconds, Ria knew that her life was about to change.
Thirteen
Beth
‘You’re up early?’
Beth stopped with her hand on the door handle as her father’s voice floated out from the kitchen. She’d been hoping to leave the house without anyone making a fuss, but she’d forgotten he’d said he’d be making an early start that morning.
‘I’m going walking… with some friends.’
Her dad appeared in the doorway, his thick hair awry and his long-sleeved T-shirt untucked from his walking trousers. ‘Blimey. Didn’t know teenagers understood the meaning of the word “morning”. Does your mum know you’re going out today?’
‘Sort of.’ She’d made a half-hearted attempt at telling her the previous evening, but she hadn’t seemed to be listening. What her mum had been doing all afternoon Beth had no idea but, when she’d come home, she’d been even more preoccupied than usual and had taken herself off to her workshop, only coming out when Beth’s dad had called her in for supper.
‘And she’s okay with it?’
‘Why wouldn’t she be?’
‘Because she likes to know where you are. You know that. The fells can be dangerous if you aren’t careful.’
Beth felt impatience brewing inside her. ‘For goodness sake, Dad. I’m not stupid.’
He’d gone back into the kitchen and she could hear him scraping butter onto toast. ‘I know you’re not and you know you’re not, but your mother’s a worrier. It’s easier to indulge her. Tell me where you’re headed today and I’ll leave her a note or, better still, do it yourself – there’s a pen and paper on the table by the window.’
Checking the time on her phone, Beth went over to the table. Grabbing the pad of paper, she scrawled:
Mum, I’ve gone to Grasmere with Carina and some others. Back for dinner.
At the mention of the girl’s name, Beth felt her teeth clench, but she knew that if she told her Dad it was Carina she was meeting, it would keep him happy. Carina’s dad was the owner of the walking company he worked for and it was easier for everyone if Beth let him believe the two of them were friends. Her mum probably wouldn’t see the note until much later. Recently, she’d not even been up before Beth had gone to school. Had just called goodbye to her from her bedroom, her voice gravelly with sleep.
‘And keep your phone on just in case she needs to get hold of you. Is it Carina you’re going with?’
‘Yes, and some others.’
‘Great. Well, have a good day. You can tell me about it when I get home. It’s Great Crag and Grange Fell for me today with a stag party. Wish me luck!’
Beth laughed. ‘You’ll need it.’
She let herself out of the house and ran down the lane. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful morning. The day had broken with a fragile beauty – the sun rising in a pale blue sky, small wisps of cloud feathering high above the peaks. David had said for her to be at the campsite at eight and she was going to be late.
Unlatching the kissing gate, Beth let herself into the first field, then ran along the stony track to the footbridge. From here she could see the camper van, but she couldn’t see David. It was only as she walked through the field towards it that she saw him. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, a map spread out on the dashboard. When he saw her, he smiled, his eyes crinkling. He wound down the window.
‘Morning.’
Beth was out of breath from hurrying. ‘Sorry I’m late. My dad wouldn’t stop talking, then he made me write a note to my mum to say where I’d be.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Did he now? Well, anyway, you’re here now.’
Feeling stupid, Beth dropped her rucksack onto the ground by her feet. Why did she have to go and say that? Now he would really think she was just a silly kid.
‘What does your dad do?’
The question surprised her. ‘He takes groups out walking on the fells. Tourists mostly.’
David looked interested. ‘Great job. Wouldn’t mind doing that myself. He must know the Lake District like the back of his hand.’
‘He does. There aren’t many parts he hasn’t been to, and he’s walked all the major peaks. Mum says Wainwright should be his middle name, but we gave it to the cat instead.’
‘There’s nothing like earning money from doing something you love. I should know.’ Leaning across the passenger seat, he opened the door, then turned back to her. ‘Getting in then?’
Beth walked round to the other side of the camper and climbed in. She had expected it to be untidy inside, clothes and camera equipment strewn everywhere, but when she looked behind her, everything was neatly stowed away. It smelt of warm leather and a faint citrus smell that, as David leant across to help with her seat belt, she realised was coming from his skin.
His face was close to hers. ‘The belts in Bertha are old and knackered. If you don’t tug them just right, they refuse to budge.’
His nearness made her heart beat a little faster. Apart from her dad, she was rarely in close proximity to a man. She sat on her hands, ignoring the impulse to reach out and touch his cheek.
‘Poor old girl,’ he continued. ‘She may not be all that pretty, but she serves me w
ell, so to speak.’
Unsure of what to say, Beth decided to say nothing. She watched him struggle to get into reverse.
‘I may have to take back that last comment,’ he said, his smile wry. ‘You’d better not let me down today or it will be the scrap heap for you next week.’
Beth laughed. ‘Poor Bertha.’
David reversed the camper van onto the track, the stones crunching under the wheels, and they headed for the gate at the far end of the field. When they reached it, Beth jumped out. She opened the gate wide enough for the van to pass through, then hopped back in, holding her breath as David leant over her, yanking the temperamental seat belt to free it.
‘Damn belt,’ he muttered, as he sat back and touched his foot to the accelerator. The van rattled as they passed over the cattle grid that separated the campsite from the main road. ‘So, do you want to give me directions or are you happy for me to follow my nose?’
Beth turned towards him. She’d only ever walked to the quarry from the bus stop and, as she didn’t drive, she realised she had no idea how to get there.
‘I… I’m not sure of the way.’
‘Don’t look so worried.’ David swung a right, the hedgerow brushing the side of the van. ‘I looked it up on the map before you arrived.’
Beth looked away. Was he making fun of her? She really hoped he wasn’t.
‘I also read up about it,’ he continued. ‘The mine was worked from the nineteenth century until the early 1960s. I thought it might be popular with divers or climbers now, like some of the other disused slate quarries, but apparently, the whole place is too unstable. A couple of divers have lost their lives there.’
‘I didn’t know that. Maybe you shouldn’t have told me.’ Beth shivered, thinking of the makeshift slate bench, high above the circle of dark water, where she liked to sit and draw. The water that had taken those lives. ‘What I like is how peaceful it is there. I hardly see anyone.’
‘That’s how I like it too,’ he said, with a smile.
Unlike her mum’s Mini, the seats in the camper van were high up, giving her a better view, and Beth found she was enjoying their drive through the countryside. David had turned onto a road signed for Coniston. It wound between fields of Herdwick sheep, their white heads contrasting with their grey bodies. One day, she should draw them.
‘Have you brought your sketchbook?’ David asked.
She nodded. ‘I hardly ever go anywhere without it. What about you? Got your camera stuff?’
‘Camera stuff? I’ll have you know, my equipment is worth several grand.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. You forget, this is my job. You don’t get your photographs accepted in British Wildlife magazine using a disposable camera from the supermarket.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I seem to remember taking a rather good photo of my mum’s ear with one when we lived in Carlisle.’
‘You lived in Carlisle?’
‘Not for long. Just a couple of years.’
‘Did you like it there?’
‘I don’t remember much about it as I was only little, but I don’t think so, no… apart from the castle. I remember Mum taking me there once on my birthday. I liked the pictures that had been carved into the stone walls of the keep: knights and mermaids and animals. They were original fifteenth-century graffiti and I made my mum wait while I tried to copy them on the back of the guidebook with a crayon.’
She didn’t tell him how her mum had hovered over her, giving the evils to anyone who looked like they just might come over to compliment her on her drawing. Or how she’d dragged Beth away before she’d finished.
‘So, you were interested in sketching even then.’
Beth smiled. ‘I suppose I must have been.’
David pulled the camper off the road into a lay-by. ‘If you’re up for it, I’d like to walk from here. It will give me a better idea of the geography of the place. I like to put my pictures into context.’
‘I don’t mind.’ She’d put on her walking boots and trousers that morning just in case.
‘Just let me get my stuff.’ Walking round to the side of the camper, David unlocked the door and slid it open. Under one of the seats was a drop-down locker. Reaching inside, he brought out his camera bag. He unzipped it, checking the contents to make sure he had everything he needed.
Beth undid her seat belt and jumped down. ‘Do you want me to carry anything?’
David shook his head, hoisting the bag onto his shoulder. ‘No, you’re all right… Me Tarzan!’
He sprang away from her, beating his chest, and Beth couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You’re completely mad!’
‘You haven’t seen me when it’s a full moon yet.’
Checking his phone for directions, David crossed over the road and walked along its edge until he came to a fingerpost, Beth trailing behind. ‘It’s this way.’ He climbed over the stile and waited for Beth to join him, then together they followed the footpath up the hill towards a farm.
Beth checked the time. It was nearly nine and, although sunny, the air was fresh. She pulled at the zip of her fleece, glad she’d decided to wear it. On reaching the farm, they walked between the house and the barns, petting a dog that had run out to meet them, before turning right onto a trackway signposted to Temple Quarry.
The path rose again steeply, and Beth was surprised and pleased when David offered her his hand. But as soon as the ground levelled out again, he let it go and she couldn’t help the rush of disappointment she felt.
‘Nearly there.’
The track passed through a gateway into an area of woodland and then continued on until the trees opened up to reveal a wide-open space.
‘Bloody hell.’ David stood with his hands on his hips, staring out at the scene. In front of them was a massive excavation of light-green coloured slate, sheer-sided and unfenced. Like bands of green abseilers, small firs clung precariously to the ledges and fissures in the rock face.
‘It’s amazing, isn’t it?’ Beth moved closer to him, keen to share her love for the place.
‘How deep do you think that drop is?’ He stared down at the dark green water of the flooded workings. ‘One hundred… one hundred and fifty feet?’
Beth watched him, enjoying the way his eyes widened in wonder. Proud that it was she who had told him about this place. Knowing he wouldn’t be here now if it hadn’t been for her.
David took a step closer to the edge. ‘I can see two openings down there. Any idea how to get to them?’
‘I’ve heard my dad say you can reach them from the lower road, but I’ve only ever been to the top of the quarry.’ She looked around at the slate spoil heaps.
‘There’s got to be a path leading down somewhere. I’d like to take a look. Want to come? I’ve got a torch.’
‘I’m not sure.’ It was only now, as she looked into the depths of the quarry, that a thought came to her. She was here, on her own in the middle of nowhere, with someone she hardly knew. A cloud passed over the sun, turning the lake below a darker green. Did she want to go down there? It felt safer up here, watching the shadows move across the patchwork fields below and listening to the shiver of the newly unfurled leaves of the silver birches that circled the rim of the quarry.
‘Stay here if you prefer.’
She pushed away her unease. ‘No, I’ll come.’
There was a sign over to their right and, further on, Beth could make out a faint path through the undergrowth. ‘I think that might be the way down.’
David parted the branches that threatened to choke it. ‘I think you’re right. Doesn’t look like it’s been used for a while.’
Beth joined him and looked at the sign. Its message was clear.
* * *
DANGER!
Steep unfenced rock faces and deep water
Strictly NO abseiling, climbing or diving
* * *
‘Is it safe?’
‘I’m not proposing taking up extreme spo
rts, though I have to say diving quite takes my fancy. We’re just going to take a look in some of the tunnels. I might get some interesting shots.’
‘All right.’
David pushed his way through the tangle of branches and Beth followed. The path ahead looked impossibly steep. It descended through the trees for a way, then opened out again to run beside the gaping chasm, its bare edge formed of starkly defined and naked rock.
Not wanting David to see how scared she was, Beth made herself go on, making sure her eyes were on the path ahead, not on the sheer-sided quarry walls. When they’d almost reached the bottom, their path joined with another. Although she couldn’t see it, she could hear a car.
David laughed. ‘This must be the path that comes in from the Langdon road. It would have been a much easier way to get here!’
In front of them was a red and white striped barrier. It blocked the entrance to the wide mouth of a cave.
David stood for a moment looking at it, then ducked underneath.
‘What are you doing?’
‘What does it look like? I’m going to see what’s happening inside this bad boy. You don’t have to come.’
‘Yes… yes, I will.’ Beth ducked under the barrier. The last thing she wanted was to look like a coward.
The ceiling of the cave was high, the floor covered with loose slate. David switched on his torch and at once the striated rocks came to life. With the light to guide them, they made their way across the shifting, uneven surface towards the back of the cave where there was a smaller tunnel.
Squatting down, David directed the beam of light at the narrow opening. ‘There’s light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak. Come on.’
They had to bend almost double and, as they made their way slowly down the tunnel, the torch lighting their way, Beth could see that the slate under their feet had become shiny with water.
David turned back to her. ‘Be careful you don’t slip. I don’t fancy carrying you back up that hill.’
