The Hike(32)

Ginny was gone.

Another feeling washed over him. A small, tingling thrill. He put it down to the adrenaline that had obviously just spiked hard. He looked over at Cat. She was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, her face pressed down. He couldn’t see her face, but her shoulders were moving and there was a muffled sound of sobbing. Paul was standing above her. He had his hands on his hips and he was looking, open-mouthed, up at the sky, breathing hard.

Tristan was good at containing his emotions when he had to. He’d wavered earlier, when Ginny had announced Cat’s pregnancy like that. He’d thought he knew all parts of the plan, and then that particular announcement had swung in and punched him in the gut. Should Cat even be on this hike? How pregnant was she? He tensed his body, then forced it to relax. He hated that Cat had this effect on him, but she really did.

Get a grip, Tristan.

He looked down at his hands. They shook slightly, but he flexed them and took a few breaths and got himself back under control.

Your wife may be dead, Tristan.

He hadn’t factored in how this part would feel. Planning everything, discussing it all, talking about the future – he’d felt removed from that, somehow. Like he was dealing with a work project for a client, telling them how to invest their money, removing the potential sentimentality of dealing with the fact that the client would need to die for the funds to be released to their children. But as the day progressed, he’d felt nervous. Until now. Because now he felt nothing.

People die, Tristan.

Yes. Yes, they did. He unhooked the straps of his rucksack and lifted it off his back, laying it on the ground next to the others. Then he opened up the bottom zipped compartment and took out a rope, a couple of carabiners, a belay device and a cam. He opened the compartment above and took out his climbing belt. He was thinking about Ginny as he stepped his feet through the foot-holes in the belt. He knew she was convinced he’d been having an affair, but all those late nights weren’t anything to do with that. The late nights were spent at the climbing centre around the corner from his office, where he’d been training for the last three months. Training for a moment just like this.

‘What are you doing?’ Paul bent down and picked up a carabiner. ‘Since when were you a rock climber?’

Tristan shrugged. ‘Did some at an away-day thing. Must’ve been after you left. I got into it.’ He took the carabiner from Paul’s hand and slid the end of the rope through, knotting it into a figure-eight. Then he clipped the carabiner on to his belt. ‘I brought the kit today thinking me and you might have a bit of fun with it.’ He blew out a breath. Shook his head. ‘Never imagined I’d be using it for this.’

Paul stared at him. ‘Mate, I know you’ve always been good at taking control. But you have to be in shock right now. Your wife just fell off a mountain. Do you really think you should be doing this?’

Tristan ignored him. He wasn’t in shock. He felt more in control than ever, and it was giving him a real buzz. He was looking around for a rock to tie the rope around, but there weren’t any on this section. This is why it wasn’t meant to happen here. He sighed. Looked over at Cat, who still had her face buried in her knees. Cat had let her emotions get the better of her. The pregnancy had come out of left field. Questions would be asked, later.

But there was nothing they could do about it now.

He refocused on his task. Using a cam was risky. He’d done it in the climbing centre, when the worst that could happen was that he could dangle off his safety rock after dropping a few feet. But using it in real life was a risk. If he got it wrong, if he chose to place the spring-loaded hook into a crevice that wasn’t strong enough, the device would pop out and the rope with it. Bye, bye, Tristan.

That was definitely not part of the plan.

And ultimately, he was going to a lot of effort for something that was purely for show. He doubted the rope was long enough to drop him as far as where Ginny had gone, and even if he found her, he had no intention of bringing her back. He just hoped to god she was dead, because if she wasn’t, then she was in horrible pain somewhere down that mountain, and despite everything, he really did not want that.

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.