Shadow of the Mountain

by Mackenzie, Anna

  ‘Blair.’

  He ignored his mother. ‘Any issue can be resolved if you approach it the appropriate way,’ he said fervently, before leaning forward and dropping his voice conspiratorially. ‘Though one always has to acknowledge the role of the troubled childhood.’

  ‘That’ll do, I think,’ Miriam put in sharply, her tone belying the mildness of the words.

  Geneva kept her head down. She had become so used to meals spent in almost total silence that the rigours of full-on family conversation were almost too demanding.

  ‘Diabolical, or what?’ Angus asked later as they crossed Riverslea Road to follow the curve of the stream it paralleled. ‘You can’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  Geneva nodded. ‘It’s different to my place,’ she answered, hurrying on to avoid any questions about how and why. ‘But your brother has impeccable timing. He could have a future as a stand-up comic.’

  ‘He’s a one-off, that’s for sure. Actually, it’s amazing what he gets away with. I don’t think Mum really knows how to handle him — and believe me, that is not the norm.’ He hesitated. ‘Look, I’m sorry about rushing you off but I couldn’t face any more interrogation. Are you sure you don’t mind?’

  She pulled a face of mock distress. ‘Just when I was really getting to know your family! I was hoping for some genuine bonding: a game of Monopoly, or charades, maybe.’

  ‘Don’t joke about it. She’d probably have got around to it, only there’d have been more of a psychoanalytic twist.’ Angus grinned and stretched an arm around her shoulders. ‘What time are you due back at Julia’s?’

  ‘Not for ages. She didn’t make it specific. I think your mother thought it was cute, when you offered to walk me home.’

  ‘I was hoping it’d encourage her to lend me the car.’

  Above the line of trees that hugged the curve of the stream, the sky was darkening in a wash of pinks and greys, unmarred by the roof ridges and aerials that formed the skyline to either side. As a car roared past, music thumping towards them in a brief soundbite, Geneva thought how different urban life was to the solitude of the farm.

  ‘So, tell me about this trip you and Keith are planning.’

  Geneva turned startled eyes towards him. Keith had raised the subject after practice that afternoon. ‘Kaitiaki’s always been there, in my face,’ she said.

  ‘From what I’ve heard it’s a bit of an epic to make the summit, but if we’re just aiming for the Lizard — I guess that’s do-able.’

  He’d assumed he was included, which saved any awkwardness in asking him. She’d been dreading the need to go into too much detail. There were things she hadn’t told Angus, and it was time she did.

  ‘It might be too soon,’ she fudged. ‘I’ve only just got into climbing again.’

  ‘Keith wouldn’t have put a timeframe on it if he didn’t think you were ready. And you’ve still got a couple of weeks.’ He turned to look at her. ‘You’ll just have to come over for some extra practices.’

  They were approaching a knot of willows that reached down across the water. As if by agreement, their feet steered towards the seclusion they offered. ‘But next time,’ Angus added, turning to lace both arms around her, ‘let’s flag the family dinner.’

  ‘Suits me,’ she murmured, her thoughts already far from family dinners, though the words, she realised, held true: Angus suited her just fine. As for Kaitiaki: right now there were more pressing things to think about.

  21.

  Geneva stood at the crossroad, her eyes scanning the folds of the hills where they were lit with the thin blue light of early morning. Her heart was beating fast, though she’d biked the three kilometres to the junction at a leisurely pace. Kaitiaki, catching the lifting rays of the sun on its eastern face, looked distant and unapproachable.

  She folded her hands into her armpits and jigged on the spot, her daypack bouncing against her spine. The ten minutes she spent waiting for the van to appear did nothing to steady her nerves.

  Angus grinned as he slid open the side door. ‘You made it then.’

  As if it had ever been in doubt. Geneva clambered in, dumping her pack on the seat beside her. Keith grinned over his shoulder. ‘Great day for it. It’s a shame Tink couldn’t make it.’

  Geneva nodded, sitting on her hands. She didn’t trust her voice not to betray her nerves. Keith studied her. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yep.’ She knew there were shadows under her eyes. She’d spent half the night tumbling through distorted memories in her dreams.

  Kaitiaki looked even less achievable from the sheltered half-moon of the car park. Geneva stood near the back of the van and tried to keep her eyes away from the mountain’s forbidding bulk.

  ‘Right,’ Keith said, handing over her pack. ‘Food, water bottles, warm clothes, waterproofs?’ Geneva nodded and Keith turned to Angus. ‘Checked the gear?’ Keith asked.

  ‘A-OK,’ Angus announced. ‘Double checked?’

  ‘Aye-aye, skipper.’

  ‘In good spirits?’ Keith asked, his eyes lingering on Geneva. She nodded and began a sequence of stretches, hoping to nudge her body into some sort of enthusiasm. Her need to climb the mountain seemed to have evaporated as suddenly as, months earlier, it had gelled.

  ‘Let’s get started then,’ Keith said. ‘Easy first hour, then into the serious stuff.’

  As they walked through the bush of the mountain’s lower slopes, Angus fell into step beside her. ‘Are you feeling all right?’

  Geneva nodded. ‘I’m a bit tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.’

  ‘This trip’s your baby, isn’t it?’ he said.

  Geneva shrugged, retreating into the unruffled silence of the bush. The trees that covered the mountain’s lower slopes were roped with vines, some hanging in loose swathes, some grown into the trunks of their hosts where they bulged like aging veins. On south-facing branches lichens clung in frayed loops, lending a false hint of lushness.

  The first stage of the climb was leisurely, Department of Conservation steps breaking up the steeper sections. When she’d been here with Stephen they’d climbed on the mountain’s western flank, ticking off specific rock pinnacles and bluffs that he had judged worthy. But this was the way he’d come on his last trip.

  By mid-morning they were clear of the trees, heading across the boulder strewn slope that led to the rocky bones of Kaitiaki. Through the trees Geneva had shut off all thoughts of the climb, concentrating on the bush, enjoying a day out. Now it was back, sharp-edged at the front of her mind.

  ‘You could spend a week taking in the main climbs,’ Keith said conversationally. ‘Today’s agenda is the Lizard — unless we want to start with something smaller?’ His eyes ranged from one to the other before drifting up the mountain. ‘Goat Crag’s a good climb,’ he said.

  Geneva said nothing, and Angus filled the silence. ‘May as well stay with what we’ve planned,’ he said. ‘We can always do some of the other climbs another day.’

  Keith nodded, hitching his pack. ‘Okay. No time like the present. Geneva, do you want to lead?’

  The wall of rock he set them on soothed her — there was a lot to be said for letting your body take over, follow familiar moves, feel its way on the rock. Mind in neutral. If she let thoughts creep in, she felt anything but neutral. She felt trapped.

  She shook sweat from her eyes as she topped their third pitch, relieved to hand the lead back to Angus. As he set off up a smooth curve of rock, Keith came to stand at her shoulder.

  ‘Doing okay, lass?’

  She nodded. He looked ready to say more, and she bent to retie a shoelace. She could do this. She had to. Keith’s attention had turned to Angus. Geneva concentrated on her breathing. When Angus signalled that he was ready, she flexed her fingers and began to climb.

  The sun was arcing towards its zenith. Sweat pooled in the small of her back and plastered loose strands of hair to her neck. The short, sharp pitch was the most demanding yet. She felt a muscle strain in her
shoulder as she over-reached.

  Above her Angus yipped as a rock broke loose and skipped down the slope toward her.

  ‘Sorry!’ he called.

  Geneva froze as it bounced past her, rebounding in expanding leaps until it smacked to a halt on the ledge below. She stared at the spot, her torso pressed tight against the wall, heart thudding against her ribs like a small and terrified animal, trapped there against the rock.

  She closed her eyes and laid her cheek against stone. The world seemed to sway and her fingers clenched: if she moved, she’d fall. She pressed herself into the corrugations of rock. If she were smaller there would be handholds, tiny crevices where she could hide. She heard a low moan and forced her eyes open.

  The rocks below looked the same, scattered and rough. She could no longer pick out the stone that had fallen. An urge to jump swept through her. Her fingers convulsed. Rock hitting rock; bodies hitting rock.

  The sounds around her coalesced into her name. She turned her head a fraction. Her chest ached and her head was filled with buzzing almost loud enough to drown the voice: Keith’s voice. A tiny bubble of sound escaped her.

  ‘Breathe, Geneva!’

  Her lungs were burning. She snatched at a breath and heard it rattle in her chest.

  ‘Slowly now. In. Out.’

  She should have told him about Stephen. Emotion filled her throat, hot and thick as ginger pudding and custard that refused to go down.

  ‘I want you to climb down now,’ Keith called. ‘Easy does it: step at a time. I’ve got you on the rope.’

  Sucking tiny gasps of air, Geneva began to move, one by one stretching her cramped fingers, tentatively feeling with her toes. Her body felt ancient, unwilling. Keith’s voice drew her downwards: two steps; three. Always harder climbing down than up. Her foot reached, caught, she shifted her weight then she was falling, her foot slithering, knee grazed, fingers scrabbling for a hold.

  The rope took her weight and Keith lowered her down. As her feet touched the ledge she felt his hand on her back. She couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Sit,’ he said. She felt him unclip her harness.

  She slumped obediently, her breath still ragged. Keith squatted in front of her. She pressed her palms flat against the ledge, fingers spread, trying to find something solid to hold on to. Only when she wiped her face on her arm did she notice that she was crying.

  ‘Spit it out,’ Keith said, one hand resting on her shoulder.

  ‘I can’t … I can’t do this.’

  ‘You don’t have to, lass. Not like this.’

  Geneva tried to steady her breath. ‘It’s not … I …’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself,’ Keith said. ‘Give it time.’

  Time. Geneva swallowed.

  ‘Everything all right down there?’ Angus called.

  What was Angus going to think? She dropped her head lower. The pressure of Keith’s hand on her shoulder lifted. ‘Come on down,’ she heard him call.

  Geneva wiped her face with the back of her hand and counted a rhythm for her breath: in to four, hold for two, out to four.

  Angus’s feet dropped to the ledge with a thud. ‘What happened? Did you hurt yourself?’ he asked, his voice filled with concern.

  Geneva shook her head.

  ‘You haven’t told him?’ Keith asked.

  ‘Told me what?’ Angus said into the hollow silence.

  Keith put a water bottle into her hand. She studied his boots, where they stood a foot in front of her. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I think we’d best call it a day.’ Angus began to interrupt but Keith didn’t give him the chance. ‘Something to eat then we’ll head down, nice and slow. When you’re ready, Geneva.’

  She looked up and found them both watching her. She nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I … I think I’m okay now.’

  Keith nodded. ‘Eat something, then we’ll see.’

  Angus dropped his pack and sat beside her. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

  She took a swig from the water bottle. ‘I … I kind of panicked. I’m okay now.’ She couldn’t meet his eyes and concentrated instead on the slight pressure of his arm against hers, the sun-sparkle in the water through the plastic bottle, the broken sphere of a pebble that lay by her left heel — anything but the reasons for the panic attack. She leant back against the rock, feeling its strength, its lack of give.

  Angus said nothing. After a moment he dug a couple of snack bars from his pack and handed her one. Her throat rebelled against the sticky sweetness but she choked it down, following it with a swallow of water. She wondered how much Keith knew, and why he hadn’t said anything before.

  ‘Okay,’ Keith’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Let’s go, shall we?’

  Geneva nodded, feeling for the moment anaesthetised from the emotion which had wracked her. Keith reached for her hand and pulled her up. Angus was slower to find his feet. She felt clumsy and awkward as she reached for her pack.

  When they reached the base of the first climb, Keith paused to sort their gear. The climb down had been silent, as if the mountain’s secrets had swallowed all others, leaving no more than an echoing void where words should be.

  ‘Last chance to admire the view before we head back into the bush,’ Keith said, coiling the rope between elbow and thumb with swift, practised swings.

  Geneva’s feet turned obediently. In front of her, Kaitiaki’s skirts spread in successive waves of green, the dips of valleys like folds in the cloth. She felt Angus at her shoulder.

  ‘You all right?’ he asked.

  She nodded. The day felt surreal.

  ‘What happened?’ Angus continued. ‘I saw you come off. You were climbing down, yeah?’

  ‘I freaked out. Keith told me to come down.’

  ‘It happens.’ Angus hesitated. ‘Any idea why?’

  Geneva let her eyes wander over the bush. ‘I … I told you I’d done a bit of climbing before. Some of it was here.’

  ‘You’ve climbed here before?’ he repeated, still not putting it together. How could he? She couldn’t give him the words.

  ‘A couple of times. Not since — not for a long time.’

  Sunlight leaked across the rock where they stood. ‘With Stephen,’ she said finally. ‘I — I should have told you. About him, I mean.’ But she couldn’t, not earlier, and not now. The words clumped in her throat.

  Footsteps registered and Keith’s hand fell lightly on her shoulder. ‘Maybe you’d better just spit it out, lass.’

  Angus turned to stare at Keith. Geneva swallowed, feeling foolish. She hadn’t lost it like this in months. She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said feebly.

  With an impatient jerk, Angus turned. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘It’s about Stephen,’ she said, clearing her throat. A bird call broke the silence. She took a breath. ‘Stephen died here,’ she said. The words weren’t as hard as she’d feared. She swallowed, keeping her eyes closed, feeling the burn of tears lessen.

  ‘Climbing,’ Angus stated.

  She nodded.

  ‘The picture in the living room, that’s you and Stephen, right?’ Her father had taken the photo on the trip they’d done to the Pinnacles. She nodded but Angus’s thoughts were already two steps ahead. ‘And that’s why you wanted to climb Kaitiaki — because he died here.’ Geneva could hear the foolishness of it in his succinct summary. The silence of the mountain ticked around them, chipping at her sense of who she was.

  ‘I thought I needed to,’ she said finally.

  ‘Everyone deals with grief differently,’ Keith replied quietly. ‘There’s no right or wrong way.’

  Angus moved abruptly, stooping to pick up his pack. Geneva stared at the set lines of his face. ‘I should have told you,’ she said.

  ‘Yep,’ he agreed, hitching the pack onto one shoulder as he jumped down to the track that led away toward the trees.

  22.

  The drive home was tense and silent. In other circumstances she’d have put it down to tiredness, but the way Angus
refused to meet her eyes made it clear it was more than that.

  She didn’t blame him for being angry. She should have known she wouldn’t be able to hack it — or at least that it was a possibility, and that possibility was enough to put the trip in jeopardy. She remembered Stephen after a climbing trip when one of his mates had been injured, not seriously, but avoidably. ‘The dork put the lot of us at risk,’ he’d ranted. ‘He knew he wasn’t up to it but he didn’t even warn us. I mean, how could you have focus when your parents are in meltdown? His mother looked worse than Chas when she got to the hospital, and she couldn’t even find his dad — turned out he’d shot through the night before. But despite World War Three going on at their place, Chas just decides to tough it out. He nearly took Budgie with him when he came off the wall. Things could have been a lot messier.’ He’d stamped angrily around the kitchen.

  ‘You shouldn’t do that to your mates. One of the fundamentals of climbing is you get your headspace right.’

  Geneva squeezed her eyelids tight against tears. It had been crazy to climb Kaitiaki without telling the others why it mattered; without warning them she might lose it. Resting her head against the window, Geneva slid her brain into shut-down, letting every rut in the road bounce her forehead against the glass.

  At the junction where they’d left her bike Keith got out of the van.

  ‘Angus.’ She hesitated but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. ‘I need to talk to you…’

  He grunted.

  ‘Can you … Are you doing anything tomorrow?’

  ‘I’m busy.’

  The silence spread thick and muffling as candyfloss, choking in her throat. Grabbing her backpack, Geneva stumbled from the van. Keith was standing at the rear with her bike. ‘How about we throw the bike in the back and I drive you home?’ he suggested.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Lass, don’t beat yourself up about today. It’s not important.’

  She nodded and took the bike, determined not to cry again in front of them. In the van Angus was staring straight ahead.