Knife Edge

by Fergus McNeill

  ‘Oh Rob! What happened? Why?’

  Fresh tears, her voice catching, and then it was finally too much to hold in and she hid her face, weeping desperately into her hands.

  So beautiful.

  He moved closer, instinctively wanting to console her, to soothe her.

  ‘Kim …’

  She flinched from his touch, and for a sickening moment he thought he had lost her.

  But it was anger. Her tear-streaked face, eyes screwed-up, peering out between long strands of dark hair. She jerked herself back from him, then stood shaking, her hands clenched into fists at her side.

  ‘Why? Why would you do something like that?’ Her voice choked as she gulped down ragged breaths. ‘What the fuck have you done?’

  He stood in silence, letting her yell and hit him until she was spent, then gently put his arms around her as she finally buried her face in his chest, still sobbing quietly.

  And held her close.

  2

  Monday, 26 May

  The sun was shining, but not for her. Sitting on the cushioned window seat of the cottage bedroom, Kim toyed absently with a strand of her hair. She felt numb, and there was a terrible weariness that she couldn’t shake off, despite crying herself to sleep early and getting up late. In those first cruel moments after waking she hadn’t remembered their talk, or what he’d told her. For a few blissful heartbeats everything had been just like it was before. But then it had all come crashing back in on her, and suddenly she was so very tired.

  It wasn’t true. Couldn’t be.

  But somehow she knew he wouldn’t lie to her. Not about this. She caressed the fabric of the cushion, then dug her fingernails into it, watching her knuckles whiten with effort.

  Oh God. Rob …

  Her thoughts were vague now, distracted. What was wrong with her? She should have said more, last night, this morning. She should have walked out, but somehow she didn’t have the energy. Upset and anger had carried her through the first few hours, but now she felt detached from it all, as though it was happening to someone else, someone she didn’t really care that much about.

  She cared about Rob …

  … about the person she’d thought he was. But what if that person didn’t exist?

  Her eyes were dry, sore from staring too long at the sea. She blinked, then rubbed them carefully. Where were the tears when she needed them?

  She needed him.

  But he was different now. It was as though there were two separate people, twisted together inside the same body. Two of them sharing her life, sharing her bed, for all that time. She shuddered. All that time, and until yesterday she’d only noticed one of them.

  She drew her feet in close on the broad seat, pulling up her knees and resting her chin on them. Her fingers traced the line of the pattern woven into the fabric of the cushion and she listened intently for a moment, but there was no sound except the distant roar of the sea. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, pictured his face.

  When she’d looked at him this morning, and he’d smiled back, had that been her Rob?

  Or was it the stranger?

  The sunlight was warm on her leg, but she still felt cold inside.

  It was too much to take in.

  And he’d only just begun to tell her about it. No details, no excuses, no answers to her sobbing questions. How much was he holding back, and what was still to come?

  He’d always been so confident, right from that first evening back in Taunton. She’d gone out with a few colleagues from work – somebody’s birthday probably. Not her usual group of girls, and definitely not one of her usual places – crowded together under a haze of stale beer and supermarket aftershave. A stray elbow had spilled her drink and she’d pushed her way towards the bar for another, jostled and groped by unseen hands as she fought to maintain her place in the sea of taller people surrounding her.

  And then she was trapped against a pillar, with three young guys leering down at her, all hair gel and short-sleeved shirts. She’d tried to get the barman’s attention but they shouted her down; tried to move away but they hemmed her in and blocked her escape. Faces close enough to smell the alcohol on their breath, drunken laughter hooting louder and louder, but it wasn’t funny any more.

  And then he was there beside her. Calm and strong, he pushed the nearest of her tormentors aside and spoke to her in a rich voice that was loud enough for them to hear.

  ‘Kim! How’s it going? What are you doing here?’

  At the time she was so surprised she didn’t think to ask how he knew her name. They’d certainly never met – she would have remembered him. Staring up into those glittering eyes, she’d found her panic subsiding and glanced across at the three drunks, who hesitated, suddenly less sure of themselves.

  ‘What are you drinking?’ Her rescuer was wearing a dark, tailored jacket, with a crisp blue shirt open at the collar. He smiled at her and called a barman across. ‘A vodka and tonic, and …?’

  ‘Er … rum and Coke.’ There was an overwhelming sense of relief as she’d followed his lead, allowed him to take control of the situation. His watchful eyes flickered up to see the short-sleeved trio moving away, then he turned back to her and winked.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, aware that her heart was racing, grateful for the intervention.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ he smiled. ‘I just thought you might be getting bored of them.’

  She looked away and laughed, suddenly self-conscious.

  ‘Something like that.’ She paused, then looked up at him with a slight frown. ‘How did you know my name?’

  He smiled at her for a moment, but said nothing as he turned to pay the barman for their drinks. Then, rather than hand her glass to her, he leaned in close, inclining his head to speak softly in her ear.

  ‘Do you really want to know?’

  ‘Yes,’ she nodded.

  His hand reached up, gentle fingertips brushing her throat, beginning to trace slowly down towards her breasts. She gasped, but didn’t move, a shiver of arousal flickering in her as his mouth came close to her ear. His finger paused at the chain around her neck.

  ‘It’s written on your necklace.’

  They’d both laughed at that, but she knew there was something different about him, something about the way he looked at her that made her tingle. And he was so very sure of himself.

  ‘Let me see your phone for a second,’ he’d said, and she found herself taking it from her bag and handing it over without question.

  ‘Thanks,’ he smiled, his thumb moving quickly on the buttons. ‘I’m here with some people, so I have to get back to them. But I’m just sending myself a text so I’ll have your number. That way I can call you tomorrow.’

  ‘OK.’ OK? Nobody had ever spoken to her like this before. What was the matter with her? Why did she feel like this? What was it about this man that made her so accepting?

  She saw him hit ‘Send’, then he turned the phone in his hand and offered it to her.

  ‘I’m Rob,’ he said. Their fingers touched as she took her phone back.

  ‘Kim,’ she replied, then laughed as she remembered that he already knew.

  He ignored her mistake, holding her gaze for a long moment, then that wonderful warm smile lit up his face.

  ‘It’s been good to meet you, Kim.’

  She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there on the window seat. Behind her, the door opened and she heard him walk slowly into the room. Again, she wondered why she wasn’t more upset with him, but all those emotions had bled out of her in the night, and her anger was far away.

  ‘Hey.’ His voice was soft, careful.

  She sat up, pushing her hair back from her face.

  ‘Hey.’ Her own voice, flat.

  He moved across to where she was sitting, hesitating for a moment, then leaning forward to look out of the window. He was wearing the cologne she’d bought him.

  ‘Sun’s out.’ A long pause, then, ‘I thought we coul
d go down the bay path, maybe have lunch on the beach?’

  She looked over her shoulder at him, searching his eyes for the man she knew, and finding him gazing down at her.

  ‘OK,’ she nodded.

  His expression softened and he smiled at her, the warm smile that had reassured her so many times before.

  ‘I’ll go and grab a few things from the kitchen,’ he said, straightening up and moving towards the door.

  Kim turned away to look out of the window again. She heard him pause, then come back over. His touch was gentle, fingertips lightly brushing her upper arms, then the familiar kiss on the top of her head as he stood behind her. Wearily, she leaned back a little, then relaxed and let her head rest against his chest. His arms circled her protectively and she clasped them in her hands as her eyelids gratefully closed.

  3

  It was a difficult descent. The path was an uneven ribbon of packed earth and loose stones that snaked steeply down between ledges in the towering limestone cliffs. Treacherous in places, always narrow, it followed the twisted strata of the rock face, where great ripples of stone bent back on themselves, frozen in tortuous folds. Rob went ahead of her, carrying the rucksack, sure of his footing, leading her down under the shadow of the precipice. The rush of the waves drifted up from below, and she could almost feel the spray on her face as she followed him around a jagged outcrop. Now the path narrowed even further, and she could see the sheer, dizzying drop on her right-hand side. It was still a long way down, and instinct seized her, forcing her to lean back from the edge.

  ‘Stay with me,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘There’s a couple of difficult places but it gets easier.’

  Kim tensed, her fingers grasping at the tufts of rough grass that sprouted from the cliff wall beside her. Glancing down at the beach, she swallowed hard, her breathing quickening.

  Shit!

  Adrenalin coursed through her, rousing her from the numbness, making her want to cry out. A sudden rush of indistinct thoughts flickered through her mind as she wondered what would happen if she just pushed herself out into the emptiness …

  ‘Kim!’

  She tore her gaze away from the drop. Rob had turned back, his eyes full of care, his arm outstretched towards her. For a moment, she remained pressed against the cliff, but she knew that turning back would be impossible. Slowly, carefully, she reached out and took his hand. As his fingers clasped hers, his grip definite and firm, she glanced downward – suddenly the drop didn’t look so terrifying, but there was still a cold knot in her stomach.

  ‘You’re OK,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve got you.’

  The beach curved away in a long tapering arc, smoothly encircling the bay and funnelling the waves so that they crashed and tumbled through the jutting rocks at the far end. From down here she could see the stripes and creases on the cliffs, great folds of ancient stone twisted into eerie shapes. The path they’d followed was a thin scar against the strata of the rock face. It didn’t look as though they’d come that far until she spotted the tiny dark smudges – a line of overgrown gorse bushes they’d walked around – and realised the scale of it, how far down they were.

  She moved slowly now, smooth stones and shingle crunching underfoot as they made their way out from the shadow of the cliffs and down towards the water. He matched her languid pace, walking at her side, his hand almost brushing against hers …

  … in case she wanted to hold it.

  They clambered over long fingers of water-worn rock, continuations of a seam from the cliff that cut across the beach, and stepped across the line of slick dark seaweed that marked the tide’s reach. The steady wash of the waves was soothing, and the smell of the beach recalled childhood holidays and stories of smugglers.

  Kim turned her head away from Rob to stare out at the sea, her pace slowing as she watched the dark green water catch the light. A ribbon of bubbles slid towards her feet, slowing and stretching as the water lost its way among the pebbles, lingering for a moment before the undercurrent drew it back. She watched it gently pick up speed, accelerating as though falling away from her until it was lost in the swell of another wave. Impossible to hold on to, like the thoughts that swirled and eddied in her mind.

  She heard the crunch of Rob’s footsteps as he slowly started to move on, but stood a moment longer, staring down at the waves.

  ‘Kim?’

  She looked up and gave him a faint nod, before turning to follow him. They meandered along the wet shingle, out of reach of most of the waves, sidestepping the bigger ones as they came.

  At the far end of the bay, the cliffs marched down towards the water. Rob jogged down to a huge, flat-topped rock, its sides dark and wet, a skirt of seaweed about its base. Shrugging off the rucksack, he hefted it up and pushed it onto the smooth stone surface. Then, putting one hand on the rock, he vaulted up onto it himself, before the next wave could touch his feet. Steadying himself, he turned back to her.

  ‘Come here,’ he called. ‘Quick, before the next wave.’

  ‘What is it?’ she replied, scampering over the slippery pebbles to join him.

  ‘Give me your hand,’ he smiled, his strong grip quickly settling on her wrist. ‘And up you come!’

  ‘Rob!’ She squealed with surprise as her feet left the ground. He lifted her up and round, straining to be gentle as he placed her on the stone beside him. She grabbed him as she regained her balance, then stood up straight.

  ‘You could have warned me,’ she protested. It had been oddly exhilarating, and she forgot herself for a moment, grinning foolishly as she gave him a playful thump on his arm.

  He was staring at her thoughtfully as they caught their breath.

  ‘It’s good to see you smiling,’ he said softly.

  The top of the rock was smooth and cool, dark grey with thin veins of silver and brown. A small bowl-shaped depression retained a mirror of seawater, spray collected at the last high tide, but the rest was dry.

  Rob sat down, cross-legged, and began to unzip the rucksack.

  ‘What about the tide?’ Kim asked, looking at the waves that licked up against the seaward base of the rock. ‘We don’t want to get caught here.’

  He squinted up at her, shielding his eyes against the light, and shook his head slightly.

  ‘We won’t,’ he smiled. ‘Tide’s on its way out.’

  She peered back along the beach, wondering how he knew, then shrugged to herself.

  Somehow he always knew.

  She sat down opposite him, tucking her feet under her as he placed a pair of plastic glasses between them and opened the wine. Her fingers trailed through the cold water in the depression, rippling it then watching it settle again. She brought a finger to her lips, tasting the salt as a droplet touched her tongue.

  ‘This might be better.’ Rob was looking at her, a glass of wine in his outstretched hand. She took it from him, holding it by the stem as she tilted it this way and that to catch the light. He reached across with his own glass, tapping it against hers before drinking, but today there was no toast, no light words.

  He was better than that.

  She glanced across, her eyes resting on him while he stared out at the waves. He was taking things easy with her, she realised. Giving her time – some breathing space – while she dealt with what he’d told her. So patient, so intense. Looking at him, she was struck by the presence that seemed to emanate from him.

  And now she was beginning to understand why.

  She wasn’t really hungry, but she didn’t refuse the food he offered. There was crusty bread, and French Brie, and grapes – his idea of her favourites – and the sea air made everything taste good. She poured them both another glass of wine and ate in silence, her eyes drawn to the distant horizon and upwards to where small clouds drifted across the sky, mottling the rippling water with shadows. Gulls were wheeling above them, riding a fresh breeze that had crept in from the sea, harsh cries echoing back off the cliffs behind her. She watched them circling, silh
ouetted shapes against the clouds, wondering how they could appear so dark when she knew they were white.

  ‘Are you cold?’

  Rob was looking at her, and she realised that she had been hugging her arms about herself.

  ‘I’m OK,’ she replied.

  He got up onto his knees and leaned across to touch her bare forearm, his fingers brushing her skin.

  ‘You’re shivering.’ He rolled back onto his feet and stood up, another silhouette against the sky, quickly slipping off his jacket and stepping round to drape it over her shoulders. ‘There you are.’

  Kim reached up and drew the jacket around her, welcoming the warmth of his body still held in the material.

  Always thinking of her.

  She watched him as he sat down again, catching his eye as he reached over to retrieve his glass. He looked at her quizzically, reading something in her face.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  She looked down, frowning slightly, trying to clarify her own thoughts.

  ‘You really do care for me, don’t you?’ Watching him now, half questioning, half believing.

  He stared back at her for a moment, then set down his glass and reached out to take her hands gently in his own. His eyes were close to hers, clear, unblinking.

  ‘I do,’ he said softly. ‘More than you could ever guess.’

  She forced herself to return his smile until he looked away, then continued toying with her glass as she tried to make sense of everything.

  Had she been stupid? Given herself to a man she didn’t know? No, it wasn’t possible – what she’d felt must have been real, at least in some part. And she was sure, even now, that it wasn’t just her – he felt something for her too. Nobody could fake that, not long-term – she’d have seen through it.

  And yet, he’d hidden something so terrible from her. And she’d had no idea …

  She bit her lip again, small fingers reaching up to twirl a strand of hair.