The Healer's Secret

by Helen Pryke

  “This is why I wanted to get here early, before the tourists arrive,” Mark said. “What do you think?”

  “It’s beautiful, absolutely stunning,” I replied. “Well worth the early start.”

  “Come on, let’s go and get a coffee,” he said.

  The tourists started arriving a while later, huge coaches billowing dark clouds of exhaust fumes. We watched them spill out and make their way towards us.

  “Peace is over,” I said. I’d enjoyed our quiet cup of coffee outside on the terrace, soaking up the atmosphere.

  “Let’s go and get our tickets,” Mark said. “It’s going to get packed in here.”

  A little later, there was a long queue of people waiting for the guided tour around the caves. Everyone chatted excitedly, and I saw a few youngsters taking selfies underneath a low-hanging rock. I nudged Mark. “If that falls, I wonder if people will try to help them or just take photos of it,” I sniggered.

  “They’ll probably start helping them after they’ve uploaded the video to Facebook,” he replied, laughing as well.

  I took out my phone. “Shall we? Seeing as everyone else is doing it.”

  “Maybe later.” He turned brusquely away from me. I put my phone back in my bag, hurt. He must have seen the expression on my face because he said, “We’re about to go in. Look, that’s the guide. We’ll take a photo after, when everyone’s gone.”

  “All right,” I said, but I wondered why he kept changing his moods so quickly.

  “OK, everybody, our tour is starting,” the guide called. “Follow me, and don’t get lost.” We all followed obediently.

  He turned towards a heavy door at the back of the cave. “Brace yourselves. When I open this door, there’s usually quite a breeze that comes out, as the tunnel is much colder than outside and the air rushes through.” A strong wind blew all around us when he heaved the reinforced steel door open, as if the mountain was sighing at all the tourists walking through it, disturbing its slumber of thousands of years.

  “I feel like we’re intruding,” I whispered to Mark, sensing the mountain’s displeasure at being awoken every day by hordes of noisy people.

  “What?” he said, startled.

  I sighed, he obviously didn’t feel it. “Nothing.”

  We went along a tunnel and found ourselves in an enormous cave.

  “This is Bear Hall,” the tour guide explained. “We’ve found evidence of cave bears that lived here thousands of years ago. Over there you can see some of the actual bones.”

  We all turned obediently towards the glass case he indicated, some people oohing and aahing.

  “Can we take photos?” someone asked from the back.

  “Yes, of course, I only ask you to not use your flash too much,” the guide replied. The youngsters immediately stood beneath a mock skeleton of a bear, grinning inanely as their phones clicked.

  We followed the guide in single file through the narrow tunnels, marvelling at the incredible natural sculptures we passed, formed by drops of water over the millennia. Every now and then the tunnels opened into large caverns, filled with brilliant white stalactites and stalagmites, breath-taking twisted shapes standing silently to attention as we passed.

  “Now be careful,” boomed the guide’s voice. “The tunnel descends here for quite a few metres, it’s not slippery but watch where you put your feet. This is the Giant’s Chasm, where there is an underground river.”

  I could feel the dampness on my face from the humidity in the air and I pulled my cardigan tighter around me, the cold seeping into my bones. Mark noticed me shivering.

  “You OK?” he asked, putting his arm around my shoulders.

  “It’s a bit cold, that’s all,” I said.

  “There are several small ponds down here, left behind by the river,” the guide explained. “The water looks milky, but it’s just an effect of the lights. Now, the next cave we’re going to enter is called the Room of Voices. The dripping water echoes around the walls and sounds like far-off voices of people talking… this was a base camp for explorers, and those who remained here waiting for the others found it very unnerving. When we’re all inside, I’m going to turn off the lights so you can understand how it was for them.”

  We all huddled together inside the cave, some looking visibly scared at the notion of being in total darkness when the lights were switched off. I had to admit I felt a bit nervous. I tried to ignore the fact that there were thousands of tons of rock above our heads, and that it wouldn’t take much for it to collapse on us. I took comfort from the fact that these caves had been around for millennia, and would probably still be here at the end of the world.

  The guide turned the lights off. No-one made a sound, and after a few seconds I could hear it. A soft, staccato sound, as if a few people were having a conversation some distance away. It reminded me of when I was little, hearing my parents speak downstairs while I was trying to get to sleep, that muffled sound as if they were talking through cotton wool. I thought if I strained my ears, I might be able to make out words or sentences.

  After a few minutes, the guide turned the lights back on and there was an audible sigh of relief.

  “Follow me, we’re almost at the end now,” he called.

  Mark pulled my arm and made me wait until everyone had left the tunnel behind the guide.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “I saw something back there, down a side tunnel, I want to go and have a look,” he said, smiling at me.

  “Shouldn’t we follow the group? We’ll get left behind,” I replied.

  “It’s just down there, not too far. We’ll be back before you know it, I bet they’ll be just outside the cave.”

  “OK,” I said, but I wasn’t too convinced. I glanced at him and saw a triumphant look flicker over his face, gone so quickly that I thought I’d imagined it.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Holding my hand, he led me back through the cave entrance and a short way along the tunnel, until we arrived at an unlit passage that branched off to the right, down a flight of steps.

  “Let’s take a look down there,” he said.

  “Why would anyone want to go down there?” It looked like a scene from a horror movie, the steps swallowed up by the darkness down below… all that was missing was the man-eating monster lurking just around the corner.

  “I don’t know, maybe we can find a stalactite that’s fallen down and smashed. That would be a great souvenir to take home. Or are you too chicken?”

  I grunted. “Me, chicken? Of course not.” I tried not to think about what could be down there, cursing all the horror books I’d ever read. “But we won’t get told off for stealing part of Italy’s national heritage or anything like that, will we?”

  “Of course not, silly,” he laughed. “After you.”

  I made my way down the steps, keeping one hand on the wall. The light from the main tunnel filtered down to the bottom of the steps, but it was difficult to see more than a few inches ahead of me. I heard Mark’s footsteps behind me and carried on, turning into the lightless tunnel when I reached the bottom. I slowly made my way forward, trailing my hands along the wall to avoid banging into the rock, my eyes straining in the semi-darkness. It was an exhilarating feeling, leaving the group to explore on our own, and I felt a flicker of excitement build up in me at the thought of breaking the rules like this.

  Without warning, the lights in the main tunnel behind me went out and I was in the pitch dark.

  “Hello?” I called. My voice echoed around me, bouncing off the cave walls. “Mark, are you there?” I couldn’t hear anything, except for a consistent dripping of water murmuring incomprehensible words further ahead. I turned around, my arms outstretched, but there was nothing there. I continued to turn, shuffling my feet a few inches in every direction, until I was completely disorientated. I stopped, aware that I had no idea of which way would take me back to the group.

  “Mark,” I shouted louder, my voice start
ling me. I could hear a note of hysteria creeping in, and it scared me. My imagination went crazy, filling my head with improbable outcomes, as I understood that I was down there alone. I could usually handle anything, but the thought of being lost in the caves, doomed to wander the catacomb of tunnels, made me shiver with fear. I tried to stay calm and think. I’d only turned off the path for a few minutes at most, surely Mark would have noticed that I wasn’t there. But I saw a fleeting image of his sneering face in my mind and I wondered if he would raise the alarm. He’d been right behind me on the steps, reassuring me that we’d catch up with the group in no time, but I realised that I hadn’t heard him since entering the lower tunnel.

  “OK, breathe,” I whispered, not wanting to start the echoes off again. This part was pitch black but if I walked forward a bit I should come across the main tunnel and the steps taking me back to the group. If I was going in the right direction.

  Panic took hold of me and I started to walk more quickly, stumbling over rocks and stones, rubbing my hands along the wall to keep my bearings. My breath came in deep gasps, fear taking over everything else. I tried to move faster, straining my eyes for a glimpse of light and a way out. I suddenly tripped and fell, bashing my forehead against the wall of the tunnel. I collapsed onto my knees and cried out, wincing as pain shot through my head and down to my neck. My probing fingers found something wet and sticky just above my eye and I felt an enormous lump.

  “Shit,” I wailed, “shit, shit, shit!” My voice reverberated around me, mocking me. I lifted my head but it felt heavy, almost too heavy to move. Then I saw it. Up ahead, there was a light. I blinked, trying to focus on it, unsure whether to trust my vision after the knock I’d just had. It was definitely a light. I gathered myself together and stood up, my legs shaking. I walked forward, keeping my eyes on it, trying to stop myself from dashing madly down the tunnel.

  The steps came into view, dimly shining in the light from the main passage that led to the Room of Voices. I breathed an enormous sigh of relief. Now I knew where I was.

  “Jennifer?” Mark ran down the steps and threw his arms around me. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, didn’t you hear me calling?”

  I shook my head, feeling numb. “I was down there,” I mumbled, half-collapsing in his arms. “I thought you were behind me, but you’d gone.”

  “I told you it was better we turned back, otherwise we’d remain too far behind,” he said, holding me. “When I reached the group, I realised you weren’t there. I came back to search for you.” He looked more closely at me. “What the hell have you done to your head?”

  “I fell,” I said tiredly. “Let’s go, I just want to get out of here.”

  “Yes, let’s find the group. They’ll be at the exit by now.”

  “Wait, didn’t you tell them I was missing?” I asked, incredulous.

  “No, I didn’t want them to organise a search party or anything. I knew where you were, it was just a matter of coming to get you.” He smiled at me, his skin a sickly pale colour under the artificial light.

  “I can’t believe you. I could have got lost, gone down the wrong tunnel, I could have been anywhere, and you didn’t even bother telling the guide.” I stormed off by myself, leaving him standing there.

  “Don’t be like that, Jennifer,” he said, running after me. “I had everything under control.”

  “I was scared out of my wits,” I said, without stopping to wait for him. “I panicked… I fell over and hit my head. Anything could have happened.” I turned and glared at him, but his innocent expression made me even angrier. I shook my head with helpless rage. “Oh, let’s just get out of here.” Sobbing, I headed towards the exit, the blue sky a welcome sight through the large cave opening.

  The group was milling about outside, the guide counting heads. “There you are,” he said, visibly relieved. “I kept doing a recount, I thought I was two people short. Where on earth did you get to?”

  “Ask him,” I replied, and stormed off to the bar.

  Mark followed me inside. “Go and sit down over there, I’ll order.”

  I did as he said, still fuming. The place was filling up as more tourists arrived, noisy chatter booming around the room, the aroma of coffee hanging heavy in the air. I took some deep breaths, trying to use my calming techniques with little success.

  “Here you go.” Mark sat down next to me and placed two glasses of white wine on the table.

  “What’s that?”

  “Wine, to help you relax. I imagine you need it after your shock.” He pushed a glass towards me.

  “But I told you I can’t drink alcohol,” I snapped. “I’m an alcoholic, remember?” I pushed it back across the table, leaving a smear of condensation on the table’s surface.

  “Go on, just this once. It’s purely for medicinal purposes, right? You need something stronger than coffee after what just happened.”

  “No, I can’t,” I insisted. “You’ll have to drink both of them.”

  “Oh, I’m driving. I can’t drink both.” He looked disappointed. “Well, maybe you can just have a sip, rather than waste it. A small taste isn’t going to ruin your efforts, is it?” He put his arm around my shoulders. “I really am sorry for what happened in the caves.” He picked up his glass and swallowed a large mouthful.

  I shrugged, my resolve wavering. An image of the dark tunnel came into my mind, I could almost feel the rough rock beneath my hands once more. I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the stem of the other wine glass.

  “Just a sip,” I whispered.

  A glass of wine later, I’d calmed down a bit. A couple more glasses after that, I was feeling mellow. Not enough to accept Mark’s apology, but just enough to get into the car and let him drive me home. I hadn’t wanted to drink any wine; I’d gone to the bar for a coffee, but I’d let him talk me into having a few drinks. It was purely for medicinal purposes, I told myself, anyone would be entitled to a couple of drinks after an experience like that. My head spun as the car negotiated the steep, winding road back down the mountain, and I nodded off.

  “OK, sleepy head, wake up. We’ve arrived.” Mark shook my shoulder, stirring me from my slumber.

  “Washn’t shleeping,” I mumbled. Christ, was I really that drunk?

  “Let me give you a hand,” he said, grinning. He ran around to the passenger side and opened the door. I scrabbled about with my seatbelt and finally managed to release it. I tried to get out of the car in an elegant manner, but my foot twisted beneath me and I almost fell to my knees.

  “Oops, here, I’ve got you. Don’t want you hitting your head again.”

  “I can do it myshelf,” I said indignantly, glaring at him. My trembling legs said otherwise, and I found myself grabbing at his arm.

  “It’s OK, I’m here,” he laughed. “Let’s get you indoors.”

  When I woke up, the bedroom was cast in strange shadows from the last rays of the setting sun shining through the shutters. I fumbled for my phone and swiped it. Eight o’clock. I groaned. My head was thumping, my throat dry, and I desperately needed the toilet. I turned the bedside light on and almost screamed. Mark was in bed with me! I tried to control myself, not wanting to wake him up. I quietly slid out of bed, realising only then that I was naked, and crept into the bathroom.

  “Oh my God, oh my God,” I groaned, looking at my reflection in the mirror. My bloodshot eyes confirmed what I already knew… that I had drunk too much. I suddenly rushed to the toilet and threw up, gasping for breath as I vomited. I washed my mouth and face when I’d finished, grabbed my dressing gown from the hook on the back of the door and wrapped it tightly around me. There was a knock on the door.

  “Jennifer? Jen, are you OK?”

  A sudden rage came over me. It was all his fault I was in this state. I’d told him I couldn’t drink. He knew what a few glasses of wine would do to me, and he’d taken advantage of me.

  I threw open the door. “Get out,” I shouted.

  “Wh…what
?”

  “Get dressed and get out of my house,” I screamed at him.

  “Jen, honey, I think…”

  “Don’t you dare ‘Jen, honey’ me.” I was furious now.

  “But I…”

  I was determined not to let him finish a sentence. “I said, get out.”

  He glared at me, then turned and went back into the bedroom. A few minutes later he came out, dressed. I was still as angry as ever, if not more.

  “I think you’re being very unfair,” he said. “You were OK with all this before, I…”

  “But I’m not OK with it now,” I retorted. “And I was drunk before, as you well know.” I stood there before him in my dressing gown, my chest heaving, with so much anger inside me that I thought I’d explode.

  He raised his hands in defeat. “OK, OK, I’m going,” he said. I watched him go downstairs and open the back door.

  Pausing, he turned to me. “You’ll regret this,” he said quietly and went out, slamming the door behind him.

  I sank to the floor and cried, partly from relief that he was gone, mainly from a deeply-ingrained hatred towards myself. I waited until I heard his car roar off down the road, then I gingerly stood up. Legs shaking, I poked my head around the bathroom door. Everything was quiet, proof that he’d gone. I couldn’t face going back into my bedroom, too embarrassed to see the evidence of my drunken exploits, so I went to the guest room instead. The bed was already made up with crisp, clean sheets provided by Aunt Liliana. I gratefully lay down. My head was still spinning but the nausea had passed. I concentrated on my breathing, slowing my heart rate down by focusing on a point on the ceiling, until my eyelids became too heavy to stay open and I fell fast asleep.

  Chapter Eight

  I woke to the sound of dripping water and for a split second imagined I was back in the caves, wandering about in the dark. I came to with a start, my heart beating wildly, and then slowly calmed down as I realised I was lying in bed, covered in soft blankets. I went over to the window and opened the shutters, looking out at a grey sky with low-hanging clouds, rain making everything sodden and miserable.