The Winter Sea
Page 87Now that I thought of it, this hadn’t been the first time that my judgment had been off. The only difference was that when I’d come close to stepping off the path before, there had been someone walking at my side to steer me back. Tonight, there hadn’t been. I’d been alone, and lost in thought, and with no guide but my subconscious.
Distracted for a moment from my ankle’s pain, I chanced a look down at the steep fall to the sea below me, and I wondered just what shape the shore had been, in 1708. Could it be possible my own steps were remembering a different path, along a stretch of land that had since fallen to the slow, eroding forces of the wind and sea?
As if replying to that thought, the wind blew colder, and reminded me I’d fallen in that place along the path that always made me feel uneasy. And when I saw the shadowed shape above me of somebody walking past along the path, my first response was not to feel relief, but apprehension.
I was glad to see the shadow stretch and shape itself to something more familiar, if a little unexpected. And I called to it as loudly as I could.
‘Christ!’ said Stuart Keith. He came down the hill like a sure-footed mountain goat, and in an instant was crouching beside me. ‘What’s happened?’
‘I fell,’ I said. ‘It’s nothing much, I’ve only hurt my ankle. But I need a little help.’
He frowned, and felt my ankle. ‘Is it broken, do you think?’
I shook my head. ‘It’s only twisted. Maybe sprained.’
‘Well, you’d best let a doctor decide that.’
‘It isn’t that serious. Honest,’ I said, to his unconvinced face. ‘I’ve broken my ankle before, and I know how that felt, and this doesn’t feel anything like it.’
‘Very sure. If you’ll just help me up,’ I said, holding my hand out.
‘You’re sure you can manage? Because I could carry you.’
‘Great. Then we’d both end up over the edge.’ With my jaw set, I said, ‘I can climb, I’ll just need you to help me.’
He did more than help me. He practically hauled me back up the long hillside and onto the path. Then, wrapping an arm round my shoulders, he supported my weight while I hobbled the rest of the way to the cottage.
‘Here we are,’ said Stuart, his own breathing labored from holding me up. He waited for me to unlock the door, then helped me through it and steered me across into one of the armchairs.
‘Thanks,’ I said with feeling. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done, if you hadn’t turned up.’
‘Aye, well—rescuer of damsels in distress, that’s me.’ He flashed a smile more self-aware than Graham’s. ‘Keep that ankle up, now. I’ll get something to put on it.’
All that I had in the small freezer part of my fridge was a bag of mixed vegetables, but that worked fine. And it did make my ankle feel better. I leaned back in my chair and looked at Stuart. ‘When did you get back, anyway?’
‘Just now. I had thought of waiting till morning to look in on you. A good thing I didn’t.’
‘No,’ he said, ‘you stay sitting. I’ll get it.’
The phone was a portable one, and I’d hoped he would just bring it over, but no—being Stuart, he answered it first. I was praying it wasn’t my mother, or, worse still, my father, when Stuart said charmingly, ‘No, she’s just resting. Hang on a minute.’ Crossing back, he handed me the phone.
I closed my eyes, prepared for anything. ‘Hello?’
Jane’s voice was dry. ‘Shall I ring back another time?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘I just wondered. You sound…busy.’
‘I—’
‘You don’t need to explain,’ she swept away my explanation. ‘I’m your agent, not your mother.’
Actually, I might have found it easier if it had been my mother on the phone, because my mother, while she did have her opinions, didn’t pry, whereas Jane would never let this drop, no matter what she’d said, till she’d had all the details. Still, she’d known me long enough to not come at me all at once, with questions. ‘I won’t keep you long, at any rate. I only called to ask you up for lunch,’ she said, ‘on Saturday.’
‘Good. Will you need me to come fetch you in the car, or do you have a driver now?’
I didn’t take the bait. ‘I’ll let you know.’
‘Local man, is he?’
‘Jane.’
‘Right, I’ll keep out of it. Let you get on with your evening.’ I heard the conspirator’s smile in her voice as she wished me good night and rang off.
I sighed, and set down the receiver. Stuart didn’t notice. He was standing at the door, beneath the black electric meter, making some adjustment to it. Realizing that I was off the phone, he turned and grinned. ‘Don’t look. You’re nearly out of time on this. I’m fixing it.’
‘Yes, well, your brother’s done that once already, and your father’s bound to figure out, someday, that I’m not paying what I should.’