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‘Well?’ she asked, unable to contain herself when, finally, he stopped, looked through all the images and still said nothing.
‘Is this you?’ he asked.
‘What?’
She leaned forward and realised that he’d found the pictures taken at the christening. She’d taken a picture of Belle holding Minette.
‘No. That’s my sister-in-law. I was godmother to her baby last week.’
‘Why do I think I know her?’
‘I couldn’t say,’ she replied, unwilling to add glamour to her sister-in-law by telling him that, until recently, she had been the nation’s breakfast television sweetheart. ‘Maybe you’ve a thing for voluptuous women?’
‘If I have, believe me I’m over it. What about this?’ he asked, flipping on to the next picture.
‘That’s Daisy. She’s my assistant. My sister-in-law’s sister. It was a joint christening and I was godmother to her little boy too.’
‘So where’s number three?’
‘Three?’
‘Doesn’t everything come in threes? Wishes? Disasters? Babies…’
‘Not in this family,’ she said sharply.
‘That would be the family you’re taking a break from?’
Had she really said that? To this total stranger. Except that when a man had kissed you—twice—he could hardly be described as a stranger. Even when you didn’t know what he looked like. Anything about him. Except that he knew when to be tough and when to be gentle. And when a girl needed a hand to hold in the dark.
Maybe that was enough.
‘The same family whose photographs you carry about with you?’
‘It’s…complicated.’
‘Families usually are,’ he said with feeling.
‘What about you? Will your family be glued to the twenty-four hour news channels? Or flying out to help in the search?’
‘It’s unlikely. They have no idea I’m in Cordillera.’
‘Really? I assumed you’d been here for quite a while.’
‘Nearly five years.’
‘Oh.’
‘We’re not what you could call close.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s my choice.’
‘Right.’ Then, ‘Mine don’t know, either. Where I am.’
‘You said.’
She had said rather a lot for such a short acquaintance, but then the circumstances had an intensity that speeded up the normal course of social intercourse.
‘Of course I’ve only been gone a few days,’ she added, feeling guilty.
‘I’m sure you’d have got around to sending a postcard eventually.’
‘I don’t send postcards.’
‘Or call? They seem to have been calling you.’
‘Those messages? Probably business,’ she said dismissively. ‘Belle and Daisy and I have a television production company. We’re due to start work on a new documentary soon.’
‘Oh, well, the good news is that we needn’t worry about them worrying about us.’
That was the good news?
‘Okay, Miranda Grenville. We seem to have just two options. I may have found a way through the roof. The first part of the climb would be fairly easy. Up the back of the eagle where it’s sloping to the ground. But after that it’s going to be a tough climb, finding footholds in the dark. See?’
He showed her the picture of a dark gash in the roof where the light hadn’t reflected back, suggesting space.
‘Unfortunately I can’t say what we’ll find when we get there. We might still be—’
‘What’s the alternative?’ she asked.
‘We could try and clear this corner.’ He flipped forward to a photograph that showed a corner where the wall had subsided. ‘The ground falls away there, so it’s unlikely to be blocked with debris once we’re through.’
‘If we can get through,’ she said.
‘If we can get through,’ he confirmed. ‘The third option is to stay put and hope that the sniffer dogs are on their way.’
‘I don’t think I’ll hold my breath on that one.’ Manda did her best to swallow down the fear. ‘I imagine they already have their paws full.’ She tried not to think about what was going on outside. The suffering… ‘Which would you choose? If you didn’t have to think about me?’
There was a telling pause before he said, ‘I think clearing the corner might be the most sensible option.’
He was lying.
‘If you were on your own you’d go for the climb. Admit it.’
He hesitated a fraction too long before saying, ‘In the dark it could be suicide.’
‘You think I’m not up to it, is that it?’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re up to, but it’s not that. If there’s a shock while we’re up there—’
‘Shut up, Jago.’
‘Miranda…’
‘If there’s a shock it could all come down on top of us.’ He didn’t say anything. ‘And climbing would be quicker.’
‘True,’ he admitted. ‘Did you say something about a packet of mints? Or did they dissolve when the water leaked?’
‘You’re in luck, they’re the chewy kind.’ She felt around in her bag until she found them, unwrapped two mints and handed him one. Then she snapped the rest of the pack in two and gave half to him. ‘Here. Don’t eat them all at once.’
‘No, ma’am,’ he replied and her eyes were now so accustomed to the low light levels emitting from the phone that she clearly saw him tuck the sweets into his shirt pocket. ‘Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll go up and take a look to see if it’s possible, then I’ll come back for you.’
‘Leaving me down here? No way!’
‘You want your mints back?’ he asked.
‘Stuff the mints…’ She didn’t care a fig about them. ‘Stuff you.’ He wasn’t going to abandon her. ‘Give me my phone back and I’ll find my own way.’
As she made a grab for it, he moved it out of reach. ‘You think I’d abandon you?’
‘Not intentionally. But once you’re up there…’ He’d be exhausted. It would take a superhero to climb back down into the dark. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t going to happen. ‘Let’s just say that experience has led me to have very low expectations of the average male.’
‘Then it’s your lucky day. The one thing I’m not is average.’
‘No?’ Actually, she probably thought he was right, but she wasn’t about to pander to his ego. ‘So where do you fit? Above or below the median?’
‘You’d better hope that it’s above.’
‘I’ll let you know.’
‘Cat,’ he replied, but softly so that she was sure he was smiling. Then, leaning into her so that she could see the screen, ‘Okay. This is the way we go,’ he said, pointing out the route he’d chosen.
‘What about this way?’ she suggested, pointing to what looked like a fissure. ‘It looks easier.’
‘Did I ask your opinion?’
‘But—’
‘This isn’t a committee, lady.’ She hadn’t realised the voice could reflect the expression so clearly, but it was obvious that he wasn’t smiling now. ‘Pay close attention because I’m going to say this just once, then I’m going, with you or without you.’
Damn…
She hadn’t meant to do that. It wasn’t that she doubted him or his good intentions but she was so used to people listening to her opinions. Being in control…
Whatever he thought, he didn’t wait for her to answer one way or the other but, having made his point, he looped his arm over her and pulled her closer. Then, with her chin pressed against his shoulder—she hadn’t imagined the strength—he laid out the route they’d take, pointing out crevices for hands and feet that she’d never have seen. Finally, when he was done, he took her hand and placed the phone into her palm, pressing her fingers around it.
‘You should keep it,’ she said. Doing her best to make up for… Well, just about everything.
‘Probably,’ he admitted, wrapping her fingers around it. ‘Keep it safe.’
His way of proving that she could trust him not to abandon her? Or, having picked out his escape route was he simply freeing up his hands for the climb?
It didn’t matter, she decided, as she slipped it into the large breast pocket of her shirt where it would be easily accessible. Then she looked up into the dark void and knew exactly what he’d done.
He’d given her the best light source in case she needed it to find her way and, feeling really bad for doubting him, she said, ‘Here, take the mini-light.’
‘Sure?’
She didn’t answer, but pressed it into his palm. Then, as he turned it on to light his way, she looked up. ‘How high is it?’
‘Just be grateful these people didn’t build on the scale of the Egyptians,’ he replied, evading the question.
‘How high?’ she insisted.
‘About ten metres,’ he replied, far too glibly, not looking back.
‘Don’t patronise me, Jago.’
He was close enough for her to feel him shrug, then he turned slightly so that she could see his spare, finely chiselled profile. ‘Does it matter?’ he asked.
‘I like to be in possession of all the facts.’
‘A bit of a control freak, are you?’
‘Not at all. You can ask anyone. I’m a total control freak.’
‘Then here are the facts for you. We start at the bottom and we keep going until we reach the top. Simple.’ Then, ‘What did you do with that bottle of brandy?’
‘Need a stiffener before you face it?’ she asked, passing it to him.
The light went out and she heard him unscrew the cap. ‘Give me your hands.’
About to ask why, she thought better of it and held them out without a word as he placed one of his own beneath them. Then he poured the spirit over both of their hands and she let slip something brief and scatological as the spirit found its way into the scrapes and grazes, bringing tears to her eyes.
‘Antiseptic,’ he said. ‘And it’ll dry out your skin. Help with grip.’
‘Thanks,’ she said cryptically.
‘Don’t mention it.’ He tucked the bottle back into the bag hanging from her back, then said, ‘You’d better give me that.’
‘Are you sure about that? It’ll be a bad look,’ she warned as she lifted the strap over her head and surrendered it to him. ‘It definitely won’t match your shoes.’
‘You know that for a fact, do you?’
‘I can’t believe you’re wearing silver sandals.’
‘Please tell me you’re kidding.’ Then, ‘No. Don’t say another word. I’d rather not know.’
