Wanting rid of her and wanting to actually hurt her were two different things. Although, thinking about it more, he felt a flicker of excitement imagining her fear.
It was a shame that it had happened the way it did, as there were a few things in Ginny’s backpack that he wanted for later. He’d packed everything in there that morning, knowing she would never bother to look beyond the main compartment with the drinks in.
He knelt down and looked over the edge, feeling his way along the rock, probing the cracks and crevices to try and find the best place for him to hook on. He lifted his head too quickly, and the vast space swam in front of him. He leaned back for a moment, steadying himself. Cat’s sickness was likely the altitude and tiredness after all, and he was just catching up.
Shit, Cat.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Paul’s voice seemed to be coming from far away.
He zoned it out.
This was dangerous. Too dangerous. But he had to do it. He had to look like he cared enough to try and get Ginny back, even though it was impossible. He found the right size of crack and slid the cam in, pushing it deep, making sure it was in tight. Then he released the trigger and it sprung open, wedging itself into position. He tugged on it. It felt solid. But he wouldn’t know for sure until he slipped off a toehold and found himself dangling off the mountain, and by then, it would too be late to do anything about it.
Bye, bye, Tristan.
He just had to hope he didn’t slip.
Twenty-Seven
SATURDAY EVENING
‘Cat, please. You need to talk to me.’ Paul tried to prise Cat’s arms away from where they were tightly gripped around her knees, but she was not budging. She had retreated inside her shell, and she was staying there. He walked to the edge and crouched down, keeping his weight back on his heels as he peered over. It was getting harder to see much now, in the twilight. The rock where Tristan had wedged his climbing equipment was just below, and Paul could see the rope snaking down until it disappeared from sight. He watched as it rippled. Heard the shearing sound of rope on metal as Tristan unravelled another length. He watched the section of rope as it hung loose for a moment, then tightened once more.
Somewhere far beneath, way out of sight, Tristan was gripping on to the rock face with his fingertips, searching for his wife. His wife. Paul’s sister-in-law. Who was more than likely dead.
Paul shook his head. How could this trip have gone so badly wrong? He peered over a bit more, hoping to see a ledge somewhere below, somewhere not too far, where Ginny might be lying – hurt, badly injured, but alive. Hopefully alive.
What was that saying – ‘hope is the last thing to die’， something like that?
‘Paul?’ Cat’s voice was quiet behind him. He turned to her, and saw that she had finally unfurled. Her face was puffy and blotchy from crying. ‘Paul, I’m scared.’
He went over to her and sat down beside her, taking her hand and squeezing it tight. ‘Shh. It’s going to be OK. Tristan will find her. She’ll be OK.’ It was a stupid lie, as most lies tended to be. But he couldn’t think of anything better to say at this point.
‘I’ve killed her, Paul.’
Paul felt a chill run down his back, right between the shoulder blades, where sweat from their earlier exertions now lay, damp and sticky. Cold. They were all going to get cold now. They were never meant to be up here in the dark. The mountain weather was perfect during the day, as the sun shone, but at night, at this height, they would soon start to struggle. Had any of them even packed anything warm? He hadn’t. Like Ginny, he’d actually expected to be back in that bloody hot tub before sunset.
He squeezed Cat’s hand harder, but said nothing else. There was no point in platitudes now. And the revelations that had kicked this all off could be dealt with later. Besides, she hadn’t admitted to an affair. And they didn’t even know yet if she was pregnant.
They sat together, as the sky darkened above. There was barely a sound, except the occasional screech and whirr of Tristan’s rope sliding through the metal loop that was attached to the ridiculously small peg that was stopping him from plummeting down into the valley after his wife.
Somewhere in the distance, a bird squawked.
Cat started sobbing again, and he put his arm around her.
There was no way to know how they were all going to deal with the fallout from this. They’d have to wait for Tristan to return so they could work out a plan. Hopefully, someone from the restaurant might’ve seen him descending. Maybe he’d tried shouting to them. Paul hadn’t heard anything, but from the amount of time he’d been gone, Paul thought Tristan must be far down the mountain.