Another Way to Fall (19 page)

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Authors: Amanda Brooke

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Another Way to Fall
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‘But there must be a chance the treatment will work,’ Ben said, and the irrefutable note of hope in his voice had a familiar ring to it.

‘I want to believe it will but, realistically, this monster in my head will kill me eventually,’ she said solemnly. ‘I need you to understand that, Ben. This treatment might give me more time but it’s not a proven cure.’

Their conversation was not the ideal start to the day but Emma had enough guilt to deal with, knowing what she was putting her family through. She had to warn him off, her conscience demanded it.

‘Then that’s all the more reason to make the most of today,’ Ben said. There was a twinkle in his eyes as the daylight that appeared like a beacon at the end of the Mersey Tunnel lit up his features.

Moel Famau was still an hour’s drive away and it wasn’t long before Ben steered the conversation to Emma’s book.

‘So tell me, where are you up to now?’ he asked. ‘Are you back from the Amazon yet?’

‘Yes.’

‘And?’

‘I’m still pondering my next move,’ she said.

‘Ah,’ Ben replied. ‘Could it be that you’re taking on board my suggestions?’

‘I’ve realized that I don’t want to give my life to a corporate machine without demanding something in return. I’ve been seeing the sights the world has to offer but it’s meant living like a nomad. Now might be the time to put down some roots.’

‘I don’t know where you get your ideas from,’ Ben said with a self-satisfied smile. ‘So have you finally given in? Am I going to be your leading man?’

Emma laughed as she shook her head. ‘I thought we agreed to be just friends. Besides, how could I possibly have a humble cheese-maker as my hero?’

Ben gave a self-important sniff before he spoke. ‘Who says I have to settle for one dream. I’m still young,’ he said but then paused. ‘I am still young, aren’t I? I know what you writers are like with your poetic licence. You haven’t turned me into a gnarled, old hack, have you?’

Emma pictured an unkempt Ben, complete with Hawaiian shirt. ‘As if I would mess around with your immaculate image,’ she said. ‘You’re not old, not yet at least.’

‘Not yet? So you are planning on me being around for a while.’

‘Let’s see what the day brings.’

‘You might want to make that tomorrow. Today, we have a mountain to climb,’ he warned.

‘I beg to differ,’ Emma said firmly. ‘I have my laptop in my backpack.’

Ben shook his head but he knew better than to argue. ‘So, go on, tell me. Assuming you have the man of your dreams in your sights, what is this new phase of your life going to look like?’

Emma looked ahead but not at the road stretching out before her but to a distant point in time. ‘I’m not sure I can see it yet. I suppose I’d want to return to England or, then again, maybe I’ll settle in Wales,’ she offered as they drove past a Welsh Dragon picked out in winter pansies along the road embankment.

‘A stone cottage set into the hillside, looking down onto a green and lush valley with a river running through it like a silver ribbon glinting in the sunlight.’

Emma gasped in amazement. ‘My literary prowess is obviously rubbing off on you,’ she said.

‘That and the inspiring view,’ he said, tipping his head towards the hills and valleys looming on all sides. The patches of bright blue sky above them were few and far between but where the sun peaked through the clouds, it lit up the grey landscape with vibrant colour.

‘Yes, I think I can see myself in a little cottage,’ she agreed as she stared straight ahead and let her thoughts wander. She imagined herself in the picturesque setting that Ben had described, standing at the door of her cottage, first as a young woman but then gradually aging. There was a man standing behind her with his arms around her waist as they looked out at the rolling landscape. They were laughing as a young girl pushed past them, chasing her little brother who was toddling towards a swing hanging from an apple tree where the pink blossom showered them in soft petals. The man let go of her so he could follow the children and she looked on as he took out his camera and captured the idyllic scene. ‘In fact, I can see myself there for a very long time.’

As they neared their destination, the murkiness that she had spied from her bedroom window still clung to the peaks above her. ‘Do you think the weather will clear before we reach the top?’ she asked. It had been a glorious summer’s day the last time she had climbed Moel Famau and the view had been breathtaking.

‘I think we’d better wrap up well in case it doesn’t. You know, if it’s still misty when we get to the top, we’ll be lucky if we can see our hands in front of our faces. We could just climb until we reach the cloud cover and then turn back,’ he suggested.

‘Are you trying to bail out on me already?’

‘Not a chance. I’m here for the long haul,’ he said.

Emma fell silent as Ben pulled into the car park, which was nestled between steep mountain slopes covered in a seamless carpet of pine trees that disappeared into the mist. The anger that had fuelled her determination to escape the confines of the apartment had dissipated and thoughts of her dad were far from her mind. She couldn’t escape her illness so easily and she felt a knot of anxiety growing inside her. She looked down at her trembling hands. She hoped it was only nerves as she slipped them into her pockets.

The air felt damp and, although it wasn’t raining, the information board that displayed the various routes they could take, glistened with raindrops that trickled down paths of their own making.

‘I say we follow the easiest route, don’t you?’ Ben asked. ‘It takes a bit longer but it’s safer.’

It was only as his voice echoed off the wall of trees that Emma noticed how deserted the place was. The car park was completely empty and there wasn’t another soul in sight. Surprisingly, the sense of freedom she had craved for so long only added to Emma’s nerves.

‘You lead on,’ she said. The walking stick she used to point the way had been forced on her by her mum but judging by how steep and muddy the slopes looked, she was glad she had taken it.

There were deciduous trees along the trail, denuded and overpowered by the evergreens that made the winter’s day feel a little less lifeless. Despite regular walks, Emma wasn’t prepared for how tough the climb was and she was struggling after the first twenty minutes. When they reached the top of one particularly steep incline, she had to stop to catch her breath.

‘And this is the easy route?’ she asked Ben in disbelief.

‘I can see a fallen tree up ahead. We can use it as a seat and take a breather.’

Emma sat down with a thump and would have toppled backwards if Ben hadn’t caught her. ‘I told you that backpack was too heavy for you,’ he scolded. ‘At least let me put your laptop in my bag.’

‘I will not,’ countered Emma stubbornly.

‘You won’t have a chance to use it,’ he insisted.

‘We’ll see. Who knows when inspiration will strike?’

Around her, the trees shivered in the cold arctic breeze, which transformed her breath into vaporous ghosts that danced in front of her face. Emma didn’t shiver in sympathy, in fact she felt warm, too warm. Beneath her many layers of clothing she started to feel hot and clammy and that was when the panic set in.

‘Actually, I think inspiration is about to strike right now,’ she told Ben as she tried to breathe through her anxiety.

‘You’re the boss,’ he said, doing his best to hide his disapproval as he helped her retrieve her laptop from her backpack.

‘Why don’t you go for a little wander, check out the weather conditions further up the slope?’ suggested Emma.

‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me. Afraid I’ll look over your shoulder?’

Emma faked a smile and watched him trudge up the path. She took off her gloves. Her hands were shaking badly as she fumbled in her pockets for the pills she had set aside in case of emergency. Try as she might to explain away her current state as overexertion, Emma recognized her symptoms. If she had wanted to outrun the monster in her head, it was nevertheless catching up fast and she needed to take cover in the realms of her imagination.

When I stepped into the cottage, I crunched shale underfoot. Daylight trickled down through the rafters whilst fat, lazy drops of rainwater from the recent downpour continued to drop heavily to earth with a chorus of thuds.

‘Ben?’ I called, my voice echoing off the stone walls. I could hear footfalls that weren’t my own. ‘Is that you?’

The sound of heavy breathing grew nearer. If I had been in a nightmare, a blood-crazed, axe-wielding maniac would be only moments away from meeting his next victim but I had no such fears. Even though I had failed to track down Ben so far, I held out hope that my heart had led me to the right place.

I’d had no forwarding address for Ben but I knew his plan was to go into partnership with a large farm, running his business from a small-holding connected to it and one which needed substantial renovation. All I had to go on was that the farm was in North Wales, but Ben’s enthusiastic descriptions had made the task of finding him far easier than it might have been. His clarity of vision made my own view of the future seem hazy in comparison. When cancer had invaded my head and my life, I had learnt to forget the picture of the world I had once imagined, reluctant to invest emotionally in a life that had no long-term guarantees. Even now that I had escaped the clutches of my tumour, I wasn’t sure that I could resurrect those dreams. I had advanced in my career but my journey up the ladder of success had been a lonely one. I was meant to move onto the next stage of my life now but it was a daunting step and I knew I couldn’t do it on my own. That was why I had gone in search of Ben.

I was standing in what would have been the front hall of the cottage, and could only guess what might await. I could stay put or I could move towards it. As I did, I was almost knocked off my feet by a heavily breathing man coming from the opposite direction. On the upside, at least he dropped his axe.

It was Ben and he looked like he’d been hard at work demolishing the house rather than building his dream home. ‘Emma?’ He had caught hold of me before I had a chance to fall and he pulled me to him. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘Looking for you,’ I told him. ‘You don’t know how much trouble I’ve had finding you.’

‘But I’ve been here all the time,’ he said with a wry smile.

Emma rubbed her eyes as she looked up towards the sound of the clicking camera. ‘Have you got nothing better to do?’ she asked. She closed the lid of her computer and returned to the real world, which was as daunting as ever but at least the wave of panic that had threatened to overpower her had receded.

‘I could always climb a mountain, that might be a better thing to do,’ Ben offered, holding out his hand to help Emma to her feet.

She looked up at him and did her best to absorb some of his enthusiasm. ‘So, do I have blue skies and bright sunshine to look forward to up there?’ she asked.

‘I didn’t go too far but all I’d say is, if there’s anything you want keeping dry then wrap it up well,’ he replied, looking at her laptop.

The rain started as a fine mist that swirled gently around them but as they climbed beyond the layer of trees and into open landscape, it grew more intense and sheets of rain slapped across Emma’s face, encouraged by gale-force winds. The path to the very top of Moel Famau dipped before rising steeply and they had to clamber across shale to reach the top.

The remains of the Jubilee Tower awaited them at the summit and it was vaguely familiar from the school trip she remembered but there the similarities ended. That day had been dry and bright and the view mesmerizing whereas now, Emma could barely lift her head against the wind and the only view that met her was a complete whiteout.

‘I’m not quite sure how this is supposed to inspire me,’ she admitted with a resigned smile.

‘Ben Knowles makes a complete mess of things yet again,’ he shouted above the wind.

‘It looks like you’ve brought me into the eye of the storm,’ Emma agreed as the rain pelted against her face, obscuring her vision.

Ben grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the safety of the doorway of the tower where they found a corner to shelter from the wind. He made a brave effort to unwrap a silver-foil blanket for added protection. It flapped around them, trembling against the wind that had found its way into their hideout and was now trying to wrench the flimsy sheet from his grasp. Eventually, it took two pairs of hands to keep it over their heads.

‘I wanted this to be special,’ he confessed. ‘You can’t frighten me off, Emma. I know you’re trying to protect me but I can’t give up on us before we’ve even had a chance. I don’t believe you want to give up either.’ He paused, making sure he had her full attention. They locked eyes. ‘I think I love you … no, I know I love you and I have for a very long time.’

‘Me?’ she asked, unsure if she had even heard right. The sound of the wind against their makeshift cover was deafening but not as loud as the sound of her heart thumping in her chest.

‘Yes, you,’ he said as softly as he could whilst still being heard. ‘We’ve wasted so much time, please, let’s not waste any more.’

His words hung in the air as the world transformed around Emma. The vicious wind was silenced and she could hear soft lazy drops of rain thudding against the floor of an abandoned cottage. ‘You don’t know how much trouble I’ve had finding you,’ she said, taking Ben’s hand. She led him back down the hallway to the front door. The sun had broken through the cloud and the warm air had already started to soak up the dampness left by the April shower. She felt Ben’s arms encircle her waist. Children’s laughter filled her ears and her heart leapt as two small figures swept past her. She gasped in delight, torn between pulling away from the comfort of Ben’s arms and the desire to chase after her children and sweep them up in her arms. She turned to Ben and her breath was taken away as he kissed her. Emma closed her eyes and let her body melt and meld into his.

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