visit. I started to help out with the bingo games and the outings, and next thing they offered me a job.’ She glanced at my face. ‘What? You think I’m mad?’
‘Well, no, I mean, obviously this is very valuable work. But how the bloody hell do you stand it?’
She bowed her head to the copier. ‘It has its rewards.’Then she added softly, ‘I’m embarrassed.’
‘Why?’
‘You’re comparing this to the exciting life you’ve had, making piles of money in London, and wondering where I went wrong.’
‘Not exactly. It was exciting at times, but also a bit scary, and lonely, too, sometimes. The truth is, things didn’t quite work out as I’d planned—nor did the piles of money.’
‘Oh? What happened?’
‘I’ll tell you one day.’ I cleared my throat and changed the subject. ‘Rosalind showed me the library. She said it was one of your innovations. I’d forgotten how keen you were on detective stories. Still read them?’
‘Mm.’
‘You don’t think, well, that they might be colouring your judgement about what happened to Luce?’
She looked up sharply. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, life isn’t like that, is it? Things are left hanging, unresolved. Like with Luce—no reason for it, just a stupid accident. No body to farewell, no resolution.’
I thought for a moment she might be going to throw the report at me. Instead she turned the page, thumped the document back down onto the machine and said tightly, ‘I heard a dying man confess to killing my best friend, Josh. I’m not fantasising or mixing up fiction and reality. I heard it.’
‘Okay, okay. Sorry.’
‘Anyway, when I’ve finished doing this we can both go away and read it and see what we think, and you can make sure that my judgement isn’t
coloured
.’
I sat in silence while she finished the job. She handed me the copy and showed me to the front door. As I stepped out into the fresh air I said, ‘What’s with the shoes?’
‘What shoes?’
‘Outside in the service yard, there was a bag full of shoes.’
‘That’s the incontinents. It runs down their legs and they have to get new shoes.’
I hurried away, thinking that Anna’s grip on reality was probably pretty tight.
6
In other circumstances I’d have just put my humiliating experience with Luce and her friends on the climbing wall down to experience, and gone on to find a new girlfriend somewhere else. But the remarks I’d overheard in the changing room really annoyed me. Those blokes were a couple of years younger than me—I was just starting my master’s, while they were in the third year of their first degree—and I thought they were up themselves. Also there was Luce; I found I couldn’t stop thinking about her. So I decided I’d better get serious.
The following day I went to a climbing equipment shop and blew my budget on some essential items. The most important single thing I would ever own, according to the fanatic who served me, was my rope. We settled on a kernmantle nylon sheath and core, 10.5 millimetres thick, 50 metres long, weighing 3.45 kilograms. Next were the shoes, a pair of all-round, glove-tight lace-ups with sticky rubber soles that would be the next best thing to climbing in bare feet, I was assured. Then there was the harness (a waist belt with separate padded leg loops for a less intrusive fit), the helmet, the chalk bag, carabiners and a book. I decided to leave the slings and quickdraws and all the other arcane devices for another day.
Later I enrolled at an off-campus gym with a climbing wall, where hopefully word of what I was doing wouldn’t get back to Luce and her friends. I started weight training,climbing lessons and jogging, and in the evening memorised the book and practised knots, until I knew my prusik from my klemheist and could tie a figure-eight follow-through in the dark. In my room I fixed up a fingerboard, a piece of timber with strips of wood nailed to it to hang from, to strengthen the grip of my
‘Well, no, I mean, obviously this is very valuable work. But how the bloody hell do you stand it?’
She bowed her head to the copier. ‘It has its rewards.’Then she added softly, ‘I’m embarrassed.’
‘Why?’
‘You’re comparing this to the exciting life you’ve had, making piles of money in London, and wondering where I went wrong.’
‘Not exactly. It was exciting at times, but also a bit scary, and lonely, too, sometimes. The truth is, things didn’t quite work out as I’d planned—nor did the piles of money.’
‘Oh? What happened?’
‘I’ll tell you one day.’ I cleared my throat and changed the subject. ‘Rosalind showed me the library. She said it was one of your innovations. I’d forgotten how keen you were on detective stories. Still read them?’
‘Mm.’
‘You don’t think, well, that they might be colouring your judgement about what happened to Luce?’
She looked up sharply. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, life isn’t like that, is it? Things are left hanging, unresolved. Like with Luce—no reason for it, just a stupid accident. No body to farewell, no resolution.’
I thought for a moment she might be going to throw the report at me. Instead she turned the page, thumped the document back down onto the machine and said tightly, ‘I heard a dying man confess to killing my best friend, Josh. I’m not fantasising or mixing up fiction and reality. I heard it.’
‘Okay, okay. Sorry.’
‘Anyway, when I’ve finished doing this we can both go away and read it and see what we think, and you can make sure that my judgement isn’t
coloured
.’
I sat in silence while she finished the job. She handed me the copy and showed me to the front door. As I stepped out into the fresh air I said, ‘What’s with the shoes?’
‘What shoes?’
‘Outside in the service yard, there was a bag full of shoes.’
‘That’s the incontinents. It runs down their legs and they have to get new shoes.’
I hurried away, thinking that Anna’s grip on reality was probably pretty tight.
6
In other circumstances I’d have just put my humiliating experience with Luce and her friends on the climbing wall down to experience, and gone on to find a new girlfriend somewhere else. But the remarks I’d overheard in the changing room really annoyed me. Those blokes were a couple of years younger than me—I was just starting my master’s, while they were in the third year of their first degree—and I thought they were up themselves. Also there was Luce; I found I couldn’t stop thinking about her. So I decided I’d better get serious.
The following day I went to a climbing equipment shop and blew my budget on some essential items. The most important single thing I would ever own, according to the fanatic who served me, was my rope. We settled on a kernmantle nylon sheath and core, 10.5 millimetres thick, 50 metres long, weighing 3.45 kilograms. Next were the shoes, a pair of all-round, glove-tight lace-ups with sticky rubber soles that would be the next best thing to climbing in bare feet, I was assured. Then there was the harness (a waist belt with separate padded leg loops for a less intrusive fit), the helmet, the chalk bag, carabiners and a book. I decided to leave the slings and quickdraws and all the other arcane devices for another day.
Later I enrolled at an off-campus gym with a climbing wall, where hopefully word of what I was doing wouldn’t get back to Luce and her friends. I started weight training,climbing lessons and jogging, and in the evening memorised the book and practised knots, until I knew my prusik from my klemheist and could tie a figure-eight follow-through in the dark. In my room I fixed up a fingerboard, a piece of timber with strips of wood nailed to it to hang from, to strengthen the grip of my
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