A Leap of Faith

by Trisha Ashley

  ‘Don’t – don’t come in . . .’ he quavered.

  ‘Is she there?’

  And is she Dead Dorinda?

  ‘Yes . . . she’s here. There – there must have been a rockfall and she couldn’t get out. The way she’s lying under the rock – it’s just like she’s reaching out for help. God, it’s ghastly! Poor Dorinda.’

  She should have told somebody where she was going – it was entirely her own fault – though this was not the time to point that out to Gil. Horrible way to go.

  He backed out, looking ill met by torchlight, and dislodging small stones.

  ‘Look out!’ I warned, as more began to move and we hastily retreated towards the bones.

  ‘What are you two doing down here?’ Dave’s voice said suspiciously from behind us, and there he was, framed in the opening like a Neolithic Dorian Gray.

  Chapter 33

  On the Rocks

  We stared blankly at him, for he’d appeared as suddenly as the genie in a pantomime, albeit without a puff of smoke and not half so welcome.

  Hardly ruffled by his descent, he pushed back his tumbled black hair and smiled in that disconcertingly loopy way he keeps just for me.

  ‘Was it you who slashed my tyres?’ I demanded, recovering. ‘And why were you skulking about in the fog?’

  ‘You’re a complete whore, aren’t you, Sapphie?’ he said conversationally, ignoring my questions. ‘Last night with Nye Thomas, and now here you are with someone else.’

  ‘Sappho is helping me look for my wife,’ Gil said, white to the lips with the shock of what we’d just found, ‘and . . . we’ve found her. But she’s dead – there must have been a rockfall. She’s back there . . .’

  He gestured, shuddering, and Dave looked taken aback.

  ‘What was your wife doing here?’

  ‘Looking for a bone cave, but she didn’t tell anyone where she was going, so when she had an accident we didn’t know where she was. Poor Dorinda . . .’ He looked up and said with sad dignity, ‘Now, perhaps you’d like to go back up the cliff, so that we can get out and send for the police.’

  But Dave had abruptly lost interest in him and was staring thoughtfully at me.

  ‘Slashing my tyres was hardly going to endear you to me,’ I said, going on the attack. ‘Why did you do it? Just general temper?’

  He shrugged. ‘Why not? And it was even better than I expected, because you came out into the open.’

  ‘I suppose you know you’re demented?’ I said tartly. ‘I suppose it was you who threw the rock at my poor cat, too?’

  Behind me Gil gave a nervous cough and said, to my complete surprise: ‘Er, no – I’m afraid that was me, actually.’

  He flushed guiltily under my astonished eyes. ‘I only meant to frighten it – it’d caught a vole, you see, and I’m fond of voles. But you know I wouldn’t hurt any living creature on purpose. And then, it was so embarrassing – I mean, being there in the first place – so when your friend came out and I heard you and Nye coming, I ran off down the garden and away over the moors.’

  I decided not to ask why he was skulking about outside my house – general nosiness, I imagine. ‘What about Lili?’

  ‘Oh, now that was me,’ Dave confessed insouciantly. ‘An accident, though. She was wearing your cloak, and I saw her going out of the village. But when I tried to catch up with her she’d vanished – until she jumped out at me from that ruined cottage.’

  She was probably trying to bite him.

  ‘Then you hit her?’ I asked.

  ‘No, she just startled me, that’s all, and I lashed out automatically. She fell and hit her head on the doorway. I thought she was dead, so I went back to the party and rigged up an alibi.’

  ‘Does Lili know it was you?’

  His brow darkened. ‘It’s just come back to her, unfortunately. She’s . . . being difficult.’

  ‘Oh, good,’ I said enthusiastically. ‘You mean, difficult as in “do what I want or I’ll finger you to the police”?’

  ‘How do you know? Have you been talking to her about it?’

  ‘No, I just know Lili.’

  ‘Lili has her attractions. But do you think I’d leave you to another man if I can’t have you? No, you’re staying down here – you’ll both have to stay down here.’

  I don’t think Gil had quite taken everything in until that moment – the shock of finding Dead Dorinda had been too much – but now he gasped: ‘You can’t mean to leave us here?’

  ‘Why not?’ Dave said casually. ‘The ledge out here is half-rotten anyway – once I’ve got the rope, one kick and there it goes, and no way back. I’ll take the rope away, too, of course.’

  He began to turn, reaching out for a handhold, and at that precise second Gil hit him in a quite impressive sort of flying tackle: all that Welsh rugby tradition, I suppose.

  His impetus carried them both out, and there was a sickening thud as one or both of them ricocheted off the rock. Then they were gone.

  I didn’t think that was quite what Gil had intended.

  When I crawled to the edge and peered down, I could see two heads bobbing about way below, where the water swirled into a small bay like someone had taken a hasty bite from the rock.

  Then I remembered that Dave couldn’t swim, and watched with detached interest as he floated limply face down in the water, until Gil, swimming like an otter, grabbed him, flipped him over, and began towing him towards some rocks.

  What a hero! That man had unforeseen depths. He may even be worthy of Miranda, in the end.

  ‘Is this a private ceremony or can anyone jump?’ Nye enquired politely from my left, and I think I’d probably have gone in too then, if he hadn’t grabbed my arm at the last moment.

  ‘If you back in, is there room for me, too? Only this ledge is about to go, and I think I’d like to join you,’ he said conversationally, and as I hastily shifted, jumped for it and scrambled in beside me.

  ‘How did you get here?’ I demanded, after a timely bit of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

  ‘I got your message and I didn’t like the idea of you and Gil messing about on the cliffs alone, so I thought I’d come too. Then when I was walking along the cliff path from the car park I could see you and Gil vanishing over the edge and Dave following, so I started running.’

  ‘How much of all that did you hear?’

  ‘Most of it. I was just about to go back up and wait for Dave to emerge so I could sock him one and rescue you, in true hero mode, when he and Gil did their stunt-man thing. Dave seemed to slam into the rock pretty hard on the way out.’

  ‘Shame,’ I said callously. ‘I – what’s that?’

  There was a faint cry, which seemed to come from further along the cliff. ‘Heeelp!’ it wailed, weakly.

  ‘I was going to mention that: Chris is stuck on a ledge a bit further back. He must have been here all the time. But the tourist boat is out there, see, and I’m sure they’ve spotted him because they’ve come in as far as they can. They’ll have radioed for the coastguards.’

  ‘Chris has been stuck here all this time? What’s he doing here?’

  ‘At a guess, searching for the cave. It’s my bet he was so fired up with the idea of treasure that he messed about with the computer that night he stayed at Gil’s house and found the password.’

  ‘Well, it was just the pet name for the cat – Gil used it all the time,’ I agreed.

  ‘Then he cracked the code and thought he’d discovered where the bone cave was. Only he didn’t quite get it right, and not only that but he must have gone down one of those sheep tracks that peter out and leave you stranded.’

  ‘Serve him right,’ I said. ‘But at least the coastguards can rescue Gil and Dave too – see them on the rock there? I think they’ll need a helicopter to get them.’

  ‘They look safe enough. The tide’s in as far as it will go; it’ll be on the turn soon. Now it’s time to get us out of here, and it’s not going to be easy. There wasn’t enoug
h rope to bring it with me, and there’s very little ledge left to get back across, but—’

  There was an ominous rumble from deep in the bowels of the cave, like a monster awakening, and the ground seemed to tremble. We scrambled to our feet and looked at each other, then turned as one and stared down, way down, into the dark curve of water.

  A couple that jump together, stay together – and we were helpfully blasted out on a cloud of dust and rock particles. Out and down, hand in hand, and it was an absolutely amazing feeling until we hit the freezing cold sea, though at least it wasn’t freezing cold rocks.

  I trod water, fighting the powerful undertow and searching frantically for Nye, but he popped up beside me and we were swept together past Gil’s goggling face and outstretched hand, and out to sea.

  Being rescued by a boatful of tourists is better than not being rescued at all, but it does mean that, being dragged aboard like some giant squid to flop aimlessly on the decking, you’ll feature in about forty assorted snapshots and home movies.

  My teeth were chattering so much at first I didn’t notice the clicking of the shutters until a carrying, horribly familiar voice said in a lilting accent: ‘How like the legends of old, isnk it? The tall, handsome merman, gold-haired, clasping his human lover to him as they are swept by the waves . . . It is interestink that . . .’

  I groaned, rolled over, and was hauled to my feet by the merman as, with a great clatter, a helicopter roared overhead.

  To the rescue!

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any rum on board?’ I asked hopefully of the small man tucking a coat rather overenthusiastically around my wet T-shirt.

  It’s unfortunate that my favourite jeans are washing about off the Gower coast, but at least I was not. And how did Nye, who doesn’t have any hips to speak of, manage to retain his trousers, while mine were dragged away to be pebble-washed by the Neptune laundry?

  Still, it was worth it, and I’d recommend anyone requiring catharsis to jump off a cliff. I’m certain it’s done us all a world of good . . . except possibly Chris. His rescue generated a lot of publicity I’m sure he’d rather not have had, and much speculation about what he was actually doing there.

  Some of my favourite headlines were: ‘TV Chef in Tight Jam’, ‘TV Chef Gets Frozen Desserts after Cliff Exposure’, and especially: ‘Too Much Exposure for TV Chef?’

  He was so hysterical they had to winch him back up the cliff tied to a stretcher, but it was all his own fault for nosying about in other people’s computers. Besides, if he followed a sheep path down, he should have been able to get back up it again – sheep do, after all.

  Miranda said he got his just desserts after what he did to Spike, and I got the impression she wouldn’t have minded if he’d dropped off entirely. She’d engaged a solicitor to handle her divorce, being by then way beyond ‘Disillusioned’ and well into ‘Militant’.

  Chapter 34

  Out for the Count

  Dear Sappho,

  Lili has written telling us how you stole her lover, which is very good, I think! I hope he is a nice man and will make you a good husband. Lili says he is a potter, like me. Perhaps you will bring him when you come to Lefkada in September? He is very welcome.

  Lili tells me she has taken your old lover in return, but he did something bad so you threw him off a cliff, and now she has to nurse him back to health. She did not say what the bad thing was, and I am very curious!

  That horrible Ken Smollett has already tried to book for your course and one of Lili’s, though I am not counting on her making it this year, because Bob says he will not have that Dave in the house.

  Do write and tell me all about your man, and how you won him from Lili! We are both well, and looking forward to the baby. Life is very exciting lately, isn’t it?

  Love,

  Vivi

  I didn’t think I could live with Nye, but while waiting for him to surface after our cliff jump it was borne in on me that I couldn’t live without him. It’s a moot point anyway now, because in the last couple of weeks he’s just quietly insinuated himself into the house and my heart in the same way as Phinny.

  So I’ve now altered the plans for the barn conversion to provide a studio as well as living space, with connecting doors to both floors of the cottage. We are both creative people, prone to go off alone to work when the fancy takes us, and doors can be open or shut . . .

  Besides, it will be useful having him around when the baby arrives (and who would have thought it? Alien Genes Take over the World!), even if he is already fussing about my eating properly and not drinking alcohol.

  Personally, I can’t see a lot wrong with a diet of Mars bars, ginger beer and rum, but then I haven’t read the books (and nor am I going to).

  He and Mu have been conferring by telephone about Correct Nutrition, though it hasn’t done her a lot of good: she’s throwing more of it up than she’s keeping down.

  What’s all the fuss about? I’m not ill, and I’m going to carry on just as usual until the very last minute, and if anyone gives me any hassle I’ll go and give birth at Bob and Vivi’s house on Lefkada, where they will leave me to get on with it in peace.

  While I was checking the builders were making a good job of installing the Portuguese door into the front of the barn, Mu’s car unexpectedly pulled in and came to a rather haphazard full stop.

  She leaped out and threw up behind the holly bush, and by the time she reappeared, pale and wan, I’d turned her ignition off and applied the handbrake. The workmen were trying to pretend they hadn’t noticed anything, which was tactful: if they manage to hang the door the right way up I’d give them biscuits with their elevenses.

  ‘Oh God!’ she said weakly. ‘Morning sickness? Why not call it morning, noon and night sickness?’

  ‘Come into the house and I’ll get you a nice bucket,’ I promised, leading the way. ‘Then you can tell me what’s brought you rushing down here.’

  ‘Sappho, I’m so upset that I’ve been turning right! Across the traffic!’

  ‘Well done: you’ll probably never look back, now. And just think how much quicker it’ll be to drive anywhere!’ I said encouragingly as she sank down on to the sofa. I put the white plastic bucket on the floor next to her, just in case.

  ‘I simply had to get here; you’re the only person I can tell. And I didn’t want to phone in case Ambler heard. Thank goodness he was out last night when Simon rang me!’

  ‘Simon? He isn’t making trouble, is he? I wouldn’t have thought it, but if he is I’ll go down to Bristol and—’

  ‘No, no, he’s not making trouble. It’s . . . more the opposite. Good news, in fact . . . for me. You know he decided to become a sperm donor?’

  ‘He told me. I think a lot of them are students, and at least he’d had practice.’

  ‘They tested his sperm first, to make sure it was all right – and, Sappho, there wasn’t any!’

  ‘What, none?’

  ‘Oh, there is some, apparently, but so few they fell asleep from boredom while waiting for the next one to swim past the microscope.’

  ‘Poor Simon! What a blow!’ I’d have to phone the poor boy up later and offer (non-physical) support.

  ‘There’s something they can do to help him, I think, but to be honest I didn’t take that bit in, because that’s when it dawned on me that the baby was Ambler’s after all!’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ I agreed, though it did occur to me that both Ambler and Simon might not be producing at full capacity, which would mean that the ball could be in either court, as it were.

  ‘I’m so happy!’ She burst into tears, something she’s been prone to lately, but I expect I would too if I was throwing up all the time.

  ‘Let’s have some ginger beer to celebrate. It should be alcohol, but Nye’s hidden it.’

  ‘I’m not surprised: you can’t drink alcohol when you’re pregnant.’ She sniffled, and a look of surprise passed across her face: ‘Do you know, I think I would like
some ginger beer – how odd!’

  ‘It’s a bit Enid Blyton,’ I agreed, ‘but I just have a fancy for it at the moment and apparently ginger is very good for the digestion.’

  She ended up eating biscuits too. Ginger beer: the miracle beverage.

  Reviving, she began to notice things again. ‘You look great!’ she said slightly resentfully.

  ‘I’ve never felt better, mentally or physically. Jumping off that cliff made everything just fall into place – everyone should try it.’

  ‘Yes, but not when they’re pregnant!’

  ‘I didn’t know at the time,’ I pointed out. ‘It wouldn’t have stopped me, though: I mean, it’s this microdot in a padded cell – buffered. Why shouldn’t it be all right?’

  She stared at me. ‘Sappho, do you never feel fear?’

  ‘Of course I do. But you can’t let a thing like that stop you, can you? As they say, “feel the fear and do it anyway”. What’s the point of worrying first?’

  ‘I suppose you’re right, only it isn’t easy. Still, there’s one thing I can stop worrying about: the baby is Ambler’s. My cat novel’s nearly finished, too, and the Corduroy Cat publisher is interested, so that’s going well. I must complete the illustrations for Miranda’s Feeding the Party Animal before I do anything else.’

  ‘Yes, she’s really got the bit between her teeth on that one, but this time she’s working hard for herself, not Chris. I thought I’d incited a bit of rebellion, when really it was a revolution! Next week she’s off to Holland to learn a radical new technique for reducing stammering, and then there’ll be no holding her.’

  ‘But what about Chris?’

  ‘He’s conceded defeat. She threatened to give the Spike story to the newspapers, and I think he feels he’s had more coverage than he wants lately.’

  ‘What’s going to happen to Fantasy Flowers? Is she going to wind it up?’

  ‘No, Gil and Lavender are going to mind it while she’s away. Lavender’s finding her gardening a bit much now, so I think she’s going to become a sort of partner in the business.’

  ‘How is Gil? I suppose I’ll have to forgive him for stoning poor Sphinx.’