by Kitty Sewell
‘Cheers,’ she blurted, embarrassed by her rudeness. ‘Which way to the apes?’
‘Just follow the road around to the left and keep going. There’ll be a sign to the Ape’s Den, and there’s another clan up at the summit. There are a number of newborns around the place, so just don’t get too close. Apes have been known to bite.’
‘It’s OK. I know one personally. He’s expecting me.’
The guard laughed. She gave him a little smile and was on her way.
She ambled for another half hour along the hillside on the single track road. It had doubled back on itself and ran parallel to the ridge. She was high above the town, surrounded by lush vegetation and wild olive trees. She’d written off Gib as being all concrete and construction, but she’d been wrong. There were mysterious footpaths and stone steps everywhere, leading into the dense underbrush. The pinnacle looked awesome even from this height. Sebastian had told her that Neanderthal man had come here from Africa some 100,000 years ago, and this rock was their first and last settlement in Europe. Traces of them had been found in the caves on the east side. The place had magic, and humans through the ages had been drawn to it.
Glancing back, she saw a man walking some hundred metres behind her. He sauntered along, his face bent towards the ground as though in deep thought. So she was not the only pedestrian here. Despite the taxis and minibuses that passed at regular intervals she felt a bit vulnerable. She didn’t like walking in lonely places with some random man walking behind her.
She spotted a path which looked like a burrow up through the dense shrubbery. Glancing over her shoulder she saw the man had stopped but was looking out across Spain. On impulse she jumped across the ditch and scurried up the path. Breathless she crouched in the vegetation to see if he’d noticed where she’d disappeared to. After some minutes she saw him pass below her, continuing his easy amble up the road. She breathed out the air she’d been holding in her lungs. By the looks of him, this guy was no menace at all. In fact, he seemed quite slight himself. She could probably eat him for breakfast.
Even so, she decided not to re-join the road. There was no real way to get lost on the Rock, because most vantage points were high up and you could see exactly where you were. After walking for some twenty minutes she realised that the path narrowed to a ledge. It had turned left on itself and she was heading counter-clockwise around the Rock towards the east side, where Sebastian’s project was to be built. That side was just a sheer gargantuan cliff. But surely the path must lead somewhere, it even had proper steps cut into stone.
In fact the path was increasingly just steps, a stone staircase climbing upwards alongside an increasingly vertical cliff face. Intermittently there were ropes to hold on to, as though whoever had made the path recognised how treacherous it was. In the distance below her she saw the tip of the mosque’s minarets on Europa Point. She rounded a corner and could no longer see land. Now she was looking straight out over the Mediterranean sea. Dozens of tankers and container ships were anchored in the waters; from this height they looked as tiny and pitiful as walnut shells. She felt herself going dizzy with vertigo. Should she turn back? The path was plain dangerous, climbing ever higher, snaking back and forth along the cliff face.
Yet the longer she climbed the more daunted she was by the prospect of the return. An hour must have gone by, and going back would mean a plunge down the steps with only a rope to keep her safe. She passed a couple of lookout buildings perched on ledges, and a large cave in which modern humans had left signs of their presence. She smiled wryly; who’d have thought piles of used toilet paper could give one a sense of hope and comfort?
The sun was beating down on her head, making her feel faint. She was thirsty as hell and pretty hungry too. Surely, if she kept going she’d get to the ridge of the Rock and could descend on the other side, right down to town. Looking up, she saw the huge cliff looming above her. No person could surely go all the way up there… but the path went on, and out of sheer dread of having to retrace her steps, so did she.
Turning another bend in the narrow steps, she came upon three apes resting on the path in the shade of a shrub. She stopped dead. They looked harmless in their torpor but after a moment they rose from their lethargy and moved towards her. She knew the apes were rarely dangerous, but they had no fear of humans and would steal anything from you if they thought you had food. Two of them sat down again to stare at her but the third – a much larger one – slowly approached. Instinctively she started to back away.
‘There, there,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t look at me like that. We had a date, didn’t we?’
The ape came ever closer and suddenly bared its teeth. Her heart started hammering in her chest and her mouth had gone dry. At the same time her teeth clenched in anger. They ought to do away with the fucking animals if they could freak a person out like this. This was worse than meeting a pack of snarling pit bulls. She would rather die than turn her back on the nasty looking creature, and anyway, she knew she’d gone too far to retrace her steps. Neither was there a way they could pass each other without touching. Perhaps she would be forced to defend herself. Oh God, not that! She took a sudden step forward and screamed, ‘Back away, you bastard. Fuck off. Now. You dirty piece of shit. Go away!’
Her rant had no effect on the ape; in fact he moved towards her, his lips curling right back over a set of long spiky teeth. Perhaps there was a female with a baby in the vicinity, the ones the guard in the gate house had mentioned. Hadn’t he said they bite? Again she backed off, fearful of losing her footing yet terrified of taking her eyes off the creature.
The other two apes were getting agitated. One of them let out a long otherworldly shriek. It echoed eerily as though it came from the very bowels of hell, the worst sound she’d ever heard. Three full-grown apes could surely kill a person. Those teeth were twice the length of a pit bull’s. She reckoned that apes must be so quick and agile they could hurl themselves at you and sink their teeth into your throat. Maybe that was what they wanted…to take secret revenge on the tourists that tormented them. What better place to attack a lone, small, defenceless woman than out here on a wild cliff?
The biggest ape still maintained a menacing stance, immobile with its lips curled back. Mimi was trembling, her throat dry as paper. Her panic had frozen her. Running was not an option; she’d tumble down the cliffside if she tried. Besides, nothing could induce her to turn her back on the apes.
The path was littered with loose stones, and slowly she bent down and picked one up. Raising it in her hand had no effect on the animal. It felt now like a fight to the death. She hurled the stone towards the ape with all her strength, but missed him by inches. A surge of adrenaline made her grasp at more stones, and with unaccountable power she flung one rock after another at the snarling ape. A rock hit him in the side of the head and he jumped up into the air. She took it as an imminent attack and screamed at the top of her lungs. The echoing shriek made all three apes turn and disappear along a narrow ledge into a clump of sparse shrubbery.
Just as quickly, the energy drained away from her body and she sank to her knees. After a moment she looked up, scanning the cliff face before her to check if she was truly alone. Her eyes fixed on the shape of a man some fifty yards above her. He held a rock in each hand. He raised one fist and seemed poised to hurl a rock at her.
‘No, please don’t,’ she shouted putting her hands up in front of her face.
He dropped both rocks at once and called down to her. ‘Don’t move. I’m coming down.’
She lowered her hands slowly and stared at him. She sensed it was the man she’d seen along the road. The sun shone in her eyes and she could not quite discern his features.
‘No need,’ she shouted back in a trembling voice. ‘I don’t need help.’
Nevertheless, he bounded down the path swift as a mountain goat, and in five minutes was down to her level. Her fear transmuted into puzzlement.
He smiled. ‘Mr. Montegriffo introduced us, remember?’
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It was Mohammed, the lad in the rooming house.
‘How the hell did you happen to be here?’
‘I was just out for a walk and I heard screaming. So I came…’
She knew no-one in Gib, so how come, in the middle of nowhere, she’d come across someone she’d already met? ‘Well, thanks. That was quite scary, actually.’
‘Yeah, the apes on this side get very little bother from people. They must have felt threatened or something. I doubt they’d have hurt you, though.’
He had a strong French accent but his English seemed good.
‘How can you be so sure that those apes weren’t about to go for my throat? I read in the paper that a Spanish family was attacked few weeks ago.’
‘I heard about that, but I bet the kids were pestering them in some way. Apes usually don’t attack people for no reason.’
Her knees still felt weak, and her hands trembled, but she didn’t want him to see how scared she was. He reached into a voluminous pocket on his trousers and pulled out a small bottle of mineral water. He held it out to her. Gratefully she uncapped it and swigged down several mouthfuls before realising what she was doing. ‘Sorry. Here…I didn’t mean to gulp it down like that.’
‘It’s OK,’ he said waving away the bottle. ‘I’m not thirsty. You have it.’
She glanced at him as she poured the rest down her gullet.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her arm, she asked, ‘Where does this lead path to?’
‘It gets you right up to the top, near O’Hara’s Battery. You’re on the Mediterranean Steps, part of the nature reserve, but you rarely get people walking here.’ He looked down the plunging cliff below them. ‘You can see why, can’t you?’
The sense of menace assailed her again. One shove and she could be hurtling down a thousand feet. But why would he want to do that? Why had he followed her here anyway? And how had he got up ahead, without passing her on the steps?
‘Well, I’m heading on,’ she said abruptly. ‘Thanks for…your good intentions.’
He was too quick to react. ‘I’ll go with you if you don’t mind.’
‘No really, you carry on. You do what you came here to do.’
She wondered what he’d come here to do, exactly. Just meet her, or worse? The coincidence was too unlikely.
She took a step towards him. ‘Why were you here just at this moment, huh? Don’t you think it is a bit of a fluke?’ He shook his head vehemently but was lost for words. ‘Don’t think up any bullshit,’ she said, her voice raised. ‘You’ve got no reason to follow me. It’s a bit creepy, don’t you think?’
‘No, no. To be honest, it was Mr. Montegriffo…he wanted me to make sure you were safe.’
‘Carlo?’ The bottle dropped out of her hand and went bouncing down the steps. They both turned to follow its trajectory towards the sea until it disappeared from view. Then they looked up and their eyes met.
‘See, he was right,’ said Mohammed softly. ‘You might well have needed my help.’
‘When did he ask you to do that?’ She shook her head in consternation. ‘I’m not sure I like this.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Mohammed.
‘How did he get hold of you so quickly?’
Mohammed rubbed his eye, pretending he had something in it. He was not a sophisticated kind of spy: you could read him like a book. ‘He bought me a phone.’
‘Did he offer to pay you for spying on me?’
‘Oh, no… I owe him, I mean, I do things for him.’
‘Doesn’t sound very healthy to me,’ she said, vowing to take this up with Carlo. It showed some nerve to have her followed, but then again, he’d said she could get herself into trouble. ‘Come on then,’ she said sourly. ‘Do your job. Get me out of here.’
‘This way,’ he said and led the way upwards.
The cliff still looked utterly vertical. How the hell were they supposed to get up there? One of her socks had slid right down and bunched at her toes and her trainer had rubbed her heel raw. She was too proud to stop and put it right, but Mohammed sensed her discomfort and reached for her hand. She took it gratefully and was surprised at his strength. He pulled her upwards and she let herself be dragged along.
Within twenty minutes they’d reached the ridge. She was panting with exertion as she took the last steps up, then stopped and stared at her surroundings. The sides of the Rock dropped away steeply. It was like standing on the knife-edge of the world’s highest mountain. For a moment she was swept up by exhilaration and threw her arms out to physically capture the beauty. Sweat was pouring off her and her T-shirt stuck to her back. She peeled it back and let the air in. The wind whipped over the crest, cooling her. Mohammed stole a glance, ever so discreet. He couldn’t possibly have meant her harm. He was so innocent – cute, too, she decided: cute as a button.
‘This is the highest point,’ he said.
‘My god,’ she said pointing at the battery. ‘That must be the mother of all guns.’
‘I guess it was, back then. It could shoot a missile across the water right into my country.’
‘No kidding? Morocco, right?’
‘Yes,’ he said, looking across the strait. ‘Home is far away…too far.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but isn’t there a direct ferry? It can’t be more than a couple of hours.’
‘There’s far, and there’s far,’ he murmured. ‘Perhaps it’s hard for you to understand.’
They began the long walk down the western slope into town. She now found his presence quite companionable, but questions still circled around her thoughts. What the hell did this weird intervention mean? She was grudgingly grateful that Carlo had sent someone along who might possibly have saved her arse from being mauled by a bunch of irate apes, but did she need this cradle of protection? All in one day she’d quit smoking, tackled a vertical mountain and fought off wild animals with (almost) bare hands.
It took them a good hour to get down from the heights, walking side by side on the road, not saying much. After the confrontations they’d had, first with the apes and then with each other, both had retreated into a default reserve. Even so, she kept glancing at the boy at her side. He had those fine Berber features she’d seen in National Geographic. A slim straight nose and slightly pointed chin, glossy black hair that curled haphazardly on the nape of his brown neck. She fought an urge to touch those curls with the tips of her fingers.
The Angry Friar opposite the Convent was bustling with tourists. Rows of long tables brought unrelated drinkers together, and a drunken conviviality extended over the whole plaza. As they walked past on their way to Upper Town, Mimi peered into the dark empty interior of the pub.
‘I’ve got enough money for two pints,’ she said.
‘I don’t drink alcohol,’ Mohammed said.
‘A coke, then?’
‘I think Mr. Montegriffo wouldn’t like us…socialising,’ he said. ‘But thank you. Perhaps some other time.’
‘Do you obey Carlo in everything? What’s wrong with you and me having a drink? He doesn’t own either of us, you know.’
‘He sort of owns me,’ Mohammed said with surprising bitterness.
‘What does that mean?’
‘Well, I work for him, don’t I?’
‘That’s it?’
His hands were strong and mature with square nails. They moved constantly, clenching and unclenching, with an obvious yearning to express suppressed feeling.
‘Imogen, maybe you should be a bit careful. Mr. Montegriffo is a generous man, but he’s also demanding. Don’t let him do you any favours.’
She fixed him with a sharp look. ‘How do you mean?’
Mohammed literally squirmed in embarrassment. ‘He’s a powerful man.’
‘Powerful in what way?’
‘Influential, you know, in the Catholic Church, in the town. It’s difficult to say no to him.’
She frowned. ‘For you, perhaps’.
He paused for a
moment, then murmured. ‘Between you and me, I’m not legal. Mr. Montegriffo is trying to sort it out for me.’
To be illegal sounded quite exciting in theory, but she was sure it wasn’t. And how grim to be beholden to someone, be forced to do his bidding and then be grovelling in gratitude as well. ‘I see other Moroccans live here and work quite openly,’ she said.
‘Yes, they have jobs and work permits. I’m hoping to get there one day. I need to send money to my parents. They’re very poor.’
Mimi was humbled into silence. She took material comfort for granted and, thinking of it now, she’d seldom had to worry about the welfare of others.
Eva
The dawn light seeped in under the door. The fan made a gentle buzzing and the soft air caressed her naked skin. Sleepily, she turned her head to look at her lover, wondering if she could make love to him without properly waking him up. He was lying on his back, his eyes wide open. She traced his chest with a finger, waiting for him to turn to her, but he didn’t seem to be aware of her scrutiny. At once she felt cold. There was something unnatural about the way he lay there like a corpse.
She’d noticed that he’d been unusually preoccupied for the last couple of days, but had stopped probing as he seemed unable to articulate any specific worry or concern. This inwardness was a side to his character she’d not yet experienced. Was it her; was she lacking in some way? Was it her confession of the other day? She knew that he’d never lasted very long in relationships: perhaps this cooling was a pattern in his life. He’d fall madly in love, ride high on the feeling for a few months and then, as familiarity set in, begin to lose interest. The thought made her heart ache, surely…surely…he wasn’t that fickle. Surely he’d not been lying when he’d told her she was the only woman he’d ever truly loved. Surely he couldn’t hold against her that there had been other men in her life.
