Forty
SATURDAY NIGHT
He opened the door slowly, not entirely sure what he was walking in on. He knew they were in there. He’d tracked them for hours, staying hidden. Keeping his distance. There’d been a couple of occasions where he was sure that one of them had seen him, and he’d prepared himself for that. After all, he had no idea if they would even make it to safety. He’d spotted the old house before they got there, taking an alternate route through the woods with only the moonlight and the sounds of their distant footsteps to guide him. He had a torch, but it was the kind that helped you find the keyhole to get into your house when you were drunk and swaying on your own doorstep. It didn’t emit any kind of beam that would help him.
He’d stayed near the waterfall when they’d gone into the house. Him first, then her. He’d sat on a rock near the pool, the sounds of the splashing water making him feel less alone.
He stepped into the house, staying as quiet as he could. He hadn’t expected to find them so quickly. The flickering candles highlighted their conjoined shape, the two of them huddled together at the back of the room.
She was awake. Her eyes shining in the candlelight, widening in fear as he stepped closer.
‘Hello, Sidney,’ he said, amusing himself with his Scream joke. His voice was barely a croak. He’d strained it earlier, screaming and shouting for help as he’d clawed his way up over the side of the mountain.
Cat sat up straight, and her movement caused Tristan’s head to slip off her shoulder. He woke with a start. Then his eyes widened, too. The pair of them were frozen to the spot. Clearly this was the last thing they’d expected.
He took a few steps closer, dragging his bad leg behind him.
‘Paul?’ Cat managed, eventually. She let the blanket fall off her chest, pulled her arms out from underneath. ‘Oh my god.’
Despite the pain in his ankle – which was most likely just sprained rather than broken, as he was sure that no one could walk on a broken ankle – and the dull throb in his skull, from where Tristan had tried to brain him with that lump of metal from his climbing belt, he was actually not in too bad a shape. His fingernails were mostly gone, from where he’d jammed his fingers into the smallest crevices, making his way slowly up the side of the mountain in pain and in the growing dark. Adrenaline had replaced fear. He hadn’t looked down. He could’ve stayed on the ledge, but he might not have survived the night, so what choice did he have – and really, what did he have to lose? If he’d fallen to his death, like poor Ginny, at least he’d have died trying.
He found himself smiling at the comical expressions on his wife and his brother-in-law’s faces.
Tristan bunched up the blanket and threw it off. He stood up, and attempted to shift his face into one of concern.
‘Mate . . . fucking hell. Are we glad to see you!’
Cat got up, then. Walked forward to greet him. She held out a hand, ushering him in. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. Tristan climbed down to look for you, but you were nowhere to be seen.’ She burst into tears.
He had no doubt that her tears were genuine, but they were from shock, not happiness. She’d just told him a blatant lie, confirming his suspicions about the two of them being together. Sure, they could try to explain away their huddling together for warmth, but he knew for sure that Tristan hadn’t climbed down to try and find him, because he’d landed on a ledge that wasn’t too much of a drop beneath where he fell. He would have seen Tristan if he’d started to climb down.
Paul locked eyes with Tristan. He knew he was thinking the same. Shut up, Cat. Don’t say anything else.
Because Paul knew what had happened to Ginny, too.
‘I’m guessing you didn’t know about the ledge,’ Paul said, ‘when Cat shoved Ginny over the side?’
Cat’s eyes flicked towards Tristan, then back to Paul. ‘What are you talking about? There was no ledge. Ginny fell—’
‘She didn’t fall, though, Cat. Did she? She was pushed. By you.’
Cat shook her head. ‘No. No. It was an accident. We were fighting, yes. I admit that part. But I didn’t push her. We were prodding at each other, she slipped.’
Paul’s stomach flipped over. Was she trying to gaslight him now? He’d been there. He’d seen it happen with his own eyes. He shook his head, then directed his gaze towards Tristan. ‘I’m guessing this was all your idea. Makes sense now with you apparently “helping” Cat plan the hike.’