He carried a grin to the rockface, but it withered when his fingers touched the rough surface, and he looked up. The cliff towered, hiding his destination and defying him to conquer it, a mass of solid, disobedient grey.
You’re going to lose, he told it silently, and glanced at Casper, readying himself two feet away.
‘You good, Cass?’
‘Fuck, yeah.’
‘Climb when ready,’ John said and backed off, taking in the slack.
The instruction was echoed by Gary, and the boys gave the reply that they had been taught.
‘Climbing.’
The first section was easy, and Liam climbed quickly following obvious handholds untroubled by the altitude, but when he had reached twenty feet, he noticed John’s pitons and fixed line to his right. Vulnerability crept on him as he realised that the only thing between him and a fall was a rope fed through an unseen anchor high above, and Gary, a man of his own weight and build below. Questions began to seep in and threatened to unsettle his concentration. What if the anchor came loose? What if the rope broke? Worse, what if Casper fell? What if he couldn’t manage the more difficult parts, and why the hell was this rock called Over Yourself?
‘Concentrate,’ Gary shouted from below as if he could read Liam’s thoughts at that distance. ‘Over to your right, Lee. See it?’
Liam found the hold. Knowing Gary was watching, and boosted by his expertise, he pushed himself up another twenty feet, and pressed himself against the cliff to rest.
Casper caught up with him, also clinging by his fingertips. ‘Still good,’ he said as if to convince himself.
‘How are your hands?’
‘Cold.’
They were still in the shadow of the opposing hill, and it was tempting to turn and judge the height, but Liam resisted as there was no point. It wouldn’t bring the top any nearer, and John had been adamant. They would reach sunlight eventually, and when they did, Liam hoped to find warmth.
‘Climbing,’ Casper called, and continued up.
Liam needed another minute before he set off and watched his friend from below. Everything about Casper was impressive, from his musical talent to the athletic physique shown off so unsparingly by his leggings. When Cass looked down to search for a foothold, he caught Liam’s eye and appeared so calm and assured, he was a different person.
A better person, Liam thought. Too good for him. Fit, handsome and straight, Casper was out of his league. Imagining that Cass could find him in any way attractive, let alone see him as a partner, had been pointless.
‘Keep climbing,’ Gary encouraged. ‘Or you’ll stiffen up.’
Liam’s back was already aching, but he pushed through the dull pain and secured his foot along with his concentration before continuing.
Casper stopped again with his head in sunlight and his body in shadow, watching Liam shuffle his way up until they were level.
‘Over halfway,’ Casper said as if he knew the route. ‘You still okay, buddy?’
Buddy? Casper had never called Liam buddy, and it smacked of over the top machismo, patronising even.
Get used to it, Liam thought.
‘Oh yes,’ was what he said, and instead of resting with Casper, he pushed on until his whole body was in sunlight which, weak though it was, warmed him a little.
His thighs burnt, and his fingers stung with each scrape of the rock. His forearms were weakening and, by the time Gary shouted up that they were twenty feet below the summit, sweat was running into his eyes.
‘Keep going, Lee,’ Casper said, panting as he clung on, his face pressed against the rock. ‘Better not look down.’
‘Thanks, mate,’ Liam tutted. ‘I hadn’t thought of doing that, but now you’ve said it…’
‘No. No looking back.’ Casper was adamant. ‘Please.’
‘Yeah, okay. Don’t get your harness in a twist.’
Why say please? Was the drop worse than Liam had imagined? There was nothing behind him should he fall back, and nothing below until the ground, he knew that and daren’t look. Just thinking about it turned his stomach.
‘Promise?’ Casper persisted.
‘Yeah, alright! Shut up.’
Had Gary and John run off, leaving the ropes untethered? It was highly unlikely, yet the thought destabilised Liam’s legs, and they trembled more as he began the final ascent.
His arms were reaching the point of uselessness, and he was considering begging Gary to pull him up the last few feet when his face was unexpectedly washed by a stronger breeze. Looking across to find a suitable handhold, he found himself face to face with a grassy edge.
‘Stay calm.’
Gary’s voice came from miles away, and Liam resisted the temptation to turn and wave in triumph. Instead, he checked his foothold, not wanting to fall at the last moment, and pushed hard.
He had never felt so vulnerable as when his hands left the cliff and reached for something to grab. His toes were the only thing keeping him against the rock. His palms landed flat on the ground, but his fingers found nothing to grasp, and the cliff edge dug into his stomach. Panicking, he bent his elbows, digging them into the soil as far as they would go, and clawed at the turf. Lifting one foot left him standing on tiptoe, totally exposed and expecting to slip, but he found a wider hold that provided just enough leverage to push himself up and over the edge.
An ungainly scramble followed until he was on his front with only his feet hanging in the air, and after a crawl, he lay panting, listening to Casper gasp and grunt his way onto the ledge.
‘Don’t look back,’ Casper said when he crawled alongside.
They stared at each other beaming and not believing what they had just done, until John’s voice floated up among an echo.
‘You’re tied off,’ it said. ‘Take as long as you want, and shout when you’re ready to descend.’
‘I’d forgotten we’ve got to go down,’ Liam said, anxiety replacing the rush of adrenaline and wiping the smile from his face.
‘Yeah, but not yet.’ Casper raised his head from where it had been lying on its side and pointed ahead. ‘Let’s get to the anchors before we turn,’ he said, and Liam agreed.
‘What’s with this superstition?’ he panted as they staggered to their knees.
‘John said we’ll see.’
‘Was that when you were alone this morning? What else did you talk about?’ Liam had tried to ignore it, but now he was off the route and safe, the memory of being laughed at returned. Maybe it was the rush following the climb, but it hit with a vengeance and brought anger.
‘We talked about some stuff,’ Casper admitted. ‘I’ll tell you in a minute.’
‘Whatever.’ If John had sent them up here to further Liam’s humiliation, Cass could have a field day. Liam would cope.
Standing, they faced the hillside which, just as John had described, ascended in a smooth bank of moorland masking whatever lay above.
‘Can we turn around now?’
‘Before you do…’ Casper took his arm. ‘There’s things I want to tell you, Lee, but you’re going to have to bear with me.’
‘You going to call me weird, or queer or something?’ Liam said. ‘Because I’m ready for that.’
Casper regarded him sadly, shaking his head. ‘No, mate. Of course not.’ Putting an arm around Liam’s shoulders, he turned him to face the view. ‘I wanted to start by saying happy birthday, that’s all.’
The sun was a white disk in an endless, pale sky hanging over a blanket of rugged moorland. The valley floor swept down from the north to as far as they could see to the south, rising in the west miles distant in a hill that folded into a line of others to form a backdrop. There was no sound apart from the gentle rustle of grass, and far below, a pair of hawks circled on an updraft. They
floated in the brittle air in a wide arc that mirrored the curve of the twenty-four-span Ribblehead Viaduct, and as if it had been ordered specially for the moment, a locomotive was crossing it, puffing smoke effortlessly in silence.
Liam could have stepped back into history, but it wasn’t just the steam train and the beauty of the place that caused his throat to constrict, and it wasn’t only the knowledge of what had happened there that filled his eyes. It was all those things and more.
His chest heaved, and unable to hold back, he fell to his knees and fought back tears.
Twenty-Two
Immediately Liam saw the view, the events of the last few days cascaded through his mind as if someone had scattered the torn contents of a photograph album, demanding he relive each ripped piece before appreciating what Cass had done. He pictured Casper sullen and silent on the journey, weak and shaking in the tent, his own desperation, the walk through the storm, strangers accepting him for who he was. His uncertainty about Casper’s reaction, and the sight of the viaduct he had longed to see were compounded by the elation of the climb, and he lost the battle with the tears. It was a release mechanism, he kept telling himself, and no-one was watching. Cass sat beside him, his arm still around Liam’s shoulder, telling him it was okay.
‘Let it out, mate,’ he said, squeezing gently. ‘Let it go.’
His body wouldn’t let him do otherwise, and Liam cried until his sobs hampered his breathing, and he was forced to gasp for air. The shock to his lungs helped stem the flow, and he gasped again as he wiped his face. The view focused, but his eyes stung, and the taste of salt remained in his mouth.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’ The words came with an involuntary laugh, another release mechanism and one he was happier with. ‘You daft malaka. How did you organise that?’
Casper patted his back and let him go. ‘I have contacts,’ he said grinning.
They stared longer at the view and the circling hawks until Liam had composed himself.
‘Did you tell them why I wanted to see it?’
‘No. It wasn’t for me to say, and John didn’t ask.’
Liam sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. ‘Bloody hell, Cass.’
‘Yeah, I know. I hope it was worth it.’
‘It’s just a bloody railway line.’ Liam tried to laugh again, but it wouldn’t come. The view had deep significance for him that only his dad and Casper knew, but what affected him more than finally seeing the place was the gesture. ‘I’ll be alright in a minute,’ he said. ‘I think it’s the adrenaline.’
‘Nice climb, yeah?’
‘Cass, you hate climbing.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘You do! You said so in Wales.’
‘What I said was, I’d hate to do it without you.’
‘Ah, shut up,’ Liam nudged him. ‘You sound as soppy as me.’
Casper said nothing, and they fell into silence, staring ahead at the valley below laid out like a model railway. The train had gone, but the hawks still circled.
‘Lee,’ Casper said. ‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’
Liam stiffened. This was it. This was the moment when Casper told him that because he was returning to Greece, it was time to put the friendship on the back burner, to concentrate on their exams and look to their futures, and after a year, go their separate ways. Their friendship had become too intense, and it was time to call it off. It would be easier to drift apart gradually and to lessen the blow of a sudden parting, they should start now.
‘Can I?’
Unable to look Casper in the eye, Liam nodded.
‘Okay,’ Cass said, and Liam heard him unzip his fleece. ‘There’s a couple of things I want to say, so this is the part where you have to bear with me.’
Frightened, Liam looked for a way to avoid the conversation. ‘They’ll be waiting for us.’
‘No, they won’t. We’ve got plenty of time.’ The fleece was zipped up. ‘The thing is, I brought this with me intending to give it to you yesterday, but it was in my rucksack. We should have been over there somewhere, in our tent, heating beans on a stove closer to your railway line, but, well… Here will have to do.’
‘That thing I said last night…’
‘Yeah, shush.’
Casper was opening an envelope, and Liam knew it would be a Dear John letter.
Bracing himself, he concentrated on the view and thought of his mother.
‘I wrote this before we came away,’ Casper said. ‘And I want to read it to you.’
‘You don’t need to. I understand. I know I’m clingy. I know I’m over the top, and I know I embarrass you. Just skip to the coda.’
When Casper didn’t reply, Liam glanced to find him staring back sadly, his hair messed-up and his mouth turned down. Liam gazed at the grass and pulled his knees in tight as if to protect himself from the blow to come.
‘Just listen,’ Casper said. ‘This isn’t easy.’
The sound of paper being unfolded, the whisper of the breeze across the turf, a far-away screech of a bird, details that Liam would remember when he relived the moment their friendship was formally ended.
‘”Dear Lee”,’ Casper read. ‘”First of all, happy birthday.”’
Liam huffed a laugh at the irony. Today was not his birthday, and there was nothing happy about it.
‘”Second, there are things I want to say to you, but being a coward, I have to write them down…”’
‘You’re not a coward, Cass.’
‘Hey, malaka. Be quiet.’
Liam rested his chin on his knees. No longer looking at the view, he saw only the horizon fading into a grey haze.
Casper cleared his throat. ‘”I wanted to thank you for your friendship and tell you that it has meant more to me than you ever understood. More than I can properly express here…”’
‘Stop it.’ Liam interrupted, anger now replacing self-pity. ‘If you can’t say it to my face, don’t bother. I’ve got the message.’
‘What?’
‘Let’s just get down and go home.’ Liam tried to stand, but Casper held him by the shoulder, forcing him to stay seated on the damp grass.
‘Look at me then,’ Casper said. ‘I can’t tell you to your face if you don’t look at me.’
Hoping that he didn’t burst into more spontaneous tears, Liam turned.
Casper was folding away the letter. ‘The next bit tells you that I have to go back to Greece,’ he said. ‘And I’ve already told you that. The reason I was so quiet on the journey was because I knew I had to tell you and I didn’t want to. It was the thing I was trying to forget. And the reason I was so pissed off with myself when I found I’d got the wrong bag was because this letter was in it, and it was meant to be a birthday surprise.’
‘Yeah, right. Nice surprise.’
Casper ignored him. ‘I was a coward once, but that changed a while back. Actually, I can pinpoint the exact time. The day I walked into school. Our school.’ He took a deep breath, studied the ground between them and looked up from beneath his eyebrows, his face set in an expression that gave nothing away. ‘You remember when we first met?’
‘You asked me that before. Yes, of course.’ The meeting meant everything to Liam, it was one of his most treasured memories and was housed in a part of his memory with very few others.
‘Well, it wasn’t an… I’ll start again.’ Casper sighed and swallowed. ‘I changed schools knowing that I would have to move back to Greece when I’d finished sixth form college. After my dad left, my mum had no-one to protect her apart from me, and because she’s Greek and looks it, looks foreign, she came in for a lot hassle. Then there was the Brexit thing and having to reapply to stay in the country as a divorced European and all that shit. S
he found it hard to get work, her only friends were dad’s friends, and they quickly disappeared. The nearest Orthodox church was miles away, there was no Greek community nearby, we were isolated. She put up with it for me because she didn’t want to interrupt my education, and she finally managed to find a job that paid enough to finance my music lessons. She made sacrifices.’
Casper had a distant look in his eye, reliving the memories and speaking as if to himself. Blinking, he focused on Liam.
‘We nearly left when I was sixteen,’ he said. ‘My mum caught me doing something I shouldn’t have been doing, and it was so shocking for her, it was the final straw. She wanted us to leave then, and it took a lot to persuade her otherwise. The compromise was that we would move out of the area. Dover was closer to the Orthodox church in Folkestone, her company had an office there, and it was closer to my oboe teacher. I didn’t mind. What she had to put up with at home, I had to put up with at school, but Dover, I told her, would be different. People would be more tolerant, and she agreed as long as I promised to return to Greece after A-Levels, reconnect with the family, and do what was expected.’
Liam knew some of this, but not all. Although it pained him to hear the difficulties, they went some way to helping him understand Casper’s reason for leaving.
‘The first day at school,’ Casper went on. ‘I walked in through all those new faces, got the looks and some of the comments. You know, “Not another Paki”, that kind of shit that you pretend not to hear. I mean, my skin’s only slightly darker than theirs, but that makes no difference these days. Anyway, it was rough. At least the morning was, and then…’ Another pause to collect his thoughts. ‘Everyone else was wearing whatever they wanted, we were sixth-form after all, but there’s this one guy wearing a blazer and tie, carrying a briefcase like a teacher, and he was different to the others and proud of it.’
The Students of Barrenmoor Ridge Page 25
