Shadow of the Mountain Page 4

  Geneva took the mugs through to the kitchen then walked with him to the door. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to call a taxi?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll walk up to the mall and grab one there,’ he said, shifting awkwardly on the step. ‘I’m glad you came,’ he added.

  ‘Me too,’ she said. She was wondering what happened next when a thin wail trailed along the hall, pulling her attention back to the sleeping household behind them. ‘That’s one of the twins,’ she said. ‘I’d better go and sort it out before he wakes his brother.’

  Angus turned and jumped down the steps to the path. ‘See you Wednesday?’ he asked, walking backwards until she nodded agreement. Geneva returned his wave as he swung out the gate. Wrapping her arms around the warmth that fizzed inside her, she snibbed the lock and hurried back along the hall to deal with the night trauma of her small cousin.

  8.

  ‘To your left and up a bit. There’s a crack — that’s it. Then your right leg. Come on Gen: stretch! You’re nearly there.’

  ‘Shit, Stephen. Are you planning on killing me or what?’

  Geneva lay on the ledge of rock, legs and arms shaking with effort, heart hammering in her chest. Once her gasping had subsided she rolled carefully onto her back, the rock resisting her in a dozen uncomfortable places.

  Stephen sat beside her, leaning back on his elbows with his boots hanging out over the face they’d just climbed. ‘You made it, didn’t you?’ She could hear the grin in his voice. ‘I knew you would. You should believe in yourself more.’

  Geneva grunted. Her face and back were slick with sweat but at least her hands were no longer shaking. Why had she let him talk her into this? Because he can talk me into anything, she answered herself. And does. Bastard.

  A water bottle was dangling above her face as she opened her eyes. ‘More faith. That’s what you need,’ he said. ‘You’re a natural.’

  ‘Yeah, right. Exactly what my heart rate’s telling me.’ She sat up and drank before pouring some of the water over her face and wiping away the sweat with one hand. It stung in her eyes. Drying them on her sleeve, she looked out across the green folds of hills and flats that were spread like a rumpled cloth before them. The views were almost worth it, but there were easier ways.

  ‘Adrenalin,’ Stephen announced. ‘It’s good for you!’

  ‘Overdoing it isn’t.’

  He didn’t reply and she glanced sideways, seeing little beyond the plains and angles of his face as she squinted against the sun. Her eyes travelled up the slopes. Things looked different up here. Rarefied. Not that they were high enough for that, but there was a clarity you didn’t get down in the muddle of everyday life.

  ‘I feel more real on the rock,’ Stephen said, in an odd echo of her thoughts. ‘More alive.’ He paused. ‘That sounds trite. But it’s like I’m truly myself.’

  Geneva didn’t reply straight away. Her heart rate was almost back to normal but her legs still felt like jelly. What she’d felt on the rock face was fear, unadorned and overwhelming. Stephen must have known it was too hard for her. But then, she’d made it, just as he’d said she would.

  ‘The rest of life’s real too,’ she said quietly, not looking at him. ‘This is sport. You know: fun.’ She snorted, thinking about the trembling that had nearly sent her off the wall. ‘You’re turning into an addict, you know that?’ She said it lightly, hoping it would come out as a joke and that Stephen would laugh and deny it, but he didn’t meet her eyes.

  ‘It’s more than sport, Gen. For me, anyway.’ He turned then. ‘I want to make this my life — oh, don’t look at me like that. There’s no law against enjoying what you do for a living, though God knows few enough people seem to work that out.’

  She stared at him in amazement. ‘So you’re planning on being a rock bum?’

  He looked away. Geneva felt betrayed. ‘What’s the future in that?’ she asked.

  Stephen fiddled with a loop of rope. ‘I can make a career of it,’ he said. ‘Guiding, teaching. People do.’

  ‘Not here, they don’t.’ Her voice was flat. She didn’t want to hear this.

  ‘No,’ he agreed. ‘Once this year’s over, I’m out of here, Gen. Mount Olga, the French Alps, Yosemite. The real thing. Just touring at first, but keeping my eyes open. I’ll find some way into the industry in one of those places.’ He ran his fingers over the sun-warmed rock beneath them. ‘This is what I want to do.’

  Geneva shook her head. Stephen had a good brain, got good grades. She couldn’t imagine him throwing it away for a career climbing rock faces. That’s if he could even make it a career. The world already had too many climbers who worked dead-end jobs just long enough to fund a few climbs before they moved on to another short-term stopover. She couldn’t see him like that. She didn’t want to. And she knew how much she’d miss him. Gazing away over the farmland below them, she found that her vision was smeary with tears.

  ‘So what do you think?’ Stephen finally asked, his voice tight.

  Tilting her head back, Geneva poured more water over her face and wiped it with the bottom edge of her T-shirt. ‘What about —’ she began hesitantly but he interrupted.

  ‘Not you too! Jesus, I thought you’d understand.’ He surged upright, hands on hips. There was a tense silence.

  ‘Stephen …’ She shook her head, not sure what to say. Not sure if she could say it.

  ‘Look, just don’t give me all the reasons I shouldn’t do it, okay? I’ve had that from the olds.’ He looked away. ‘I thought you might have a bit of faith in me.’

  ‘I do. You know that.’ She stood up.

  He was testing their anchor pin and laying out the rope, his movements quick and angry. She did have faith in him but alongside that she’d always thought he had more sense. He’d flown off the handle on their trip to Carter Ridge when he thought one of the guys was pushing his luck. He’d always been someone you could trust to make the good decisions.

  He turned back to face her. ‘I’m good at it, Gen. Really good. It feels right, that’s all. I’ve got to try at least. I can’t just go off to uni and study accountancy or something. Christ!’

  She grinned. That was hard to imagine, for sure.

  ‘Look, once I’m settled somewhere, you can come and visit me. Wherever.’ His eyes were pleading. ‘How about it? See a bit of the world, do some of the really great climbs: my version of the OE.’

  She didn’t want to do the great climbs. She only came with him because she was swept along by his enthusiasm. Sure it was fun and she enjoyed the challenge — not this one, though. It had been too much. That was it, she realised. When would he know that it was too much? She dropped her gaze.

  ‘Oh fuck it then.’ Stephen turned abruptly to abseil down the hard won wall.

  ‘Are you with us at all, Geneva? Something to add perhaps?’

  Geneva registered Mrs Harper gazing at her with an expectant expression.

  ‘Ah, yes. Sure.’ She tried to look enthusiastic about whatever it was Harp-on had been harping about, but her mind was still filled with the memory of Stephen.

  ‘Perhaps if you concentrated more on what we’re talking about and less on day-dreaming, you might find yourself able to contribute to our discussions.’

  Hag. Geneva shook her hair forward to cover the dull burn in her cheeks.

  The argument, near-argument, had taken place on one of the lower faces of Kaitiaki, nearly a year ago now. Stephen had been disappointed in her response to his plans but looking back, she didn’t see how she could have reacted any other way. What had he expected?

  It had been the last climb they’d done together. He’d tried to make up for it later, giving her an early birthday present — a necklace of tiny beads, each one carved from a different type of rock, the stones polished and buffed into smooth irregular shapes. Typical Stephen.

  Geneva put her hand to her throat where the necklace sat against her collarbone. She’d stopped wearing it for a while but had put it on again this m
orning. Maybe that was why she was remembering. Glancing up she caught Harp-on’s less than friendly stare.

  ‘Geneva! Hold on a sec.’

  It had been months since Kitty had spoken to her. Geneva glanced sideways then returned to unlocking her bike.

  ‘Old Harp-on was a bitch back there. Like, anyone’s interested in the social history of Southern bloody Georgia. I mean,’ she drawled in an exaggerated accent, ‘what possible relevance could it have?’

  Geneva straightened, her bike ready to go, and studied Kitty’s animated face.

  ‘Look,’ the girl reverted to her normal voice. ‘I know we haven’t talked for ages, but … Well, maybe it’s time we did, you know?’

  She fell into step as Geneva, still silent, began to push her bike towards the road.

  ‘I’m sorry if I’ve been, you know. A bit distant.’

  Geneva nodded. She did know.

  ‘Hey, Leonie says she saw you at a party last weekend. Said there was some guy hanging all over you.’

  Angus? Hanging all over her?

  ‘Practically had his hand down your top, she said. Not that I’d believe everything that comes out of her mouth. No way.’

  Simon, Geneva thought, turning at the corner without comment.

  ‘Look, you are okay, aren’t you? I mean …’ Kitty swept her short hair sideways with one hand. ‘I didn’t know you knew any of that Wakefield lot.’

  And I didn’t think you gave a toss, Geneva thought. Kitty had been her best friend through nearly ten years of school. Even before that: since Albert Street Kindergarten. But that friendship had been withdrawn last summer — just when she needed it, Geneva recalled.

  Kitty was trying to catch her eye, trying to smile. ‘Look, I’m sorry, you know? I’ve missed you.’

  Geneva swallowed. It wasn’t quite fair to lay all the blame on Kitty. It had been a two-way street. ‘Yeah,’ she said.

  ‘Coffee? MJs? Walk you to the overpass?’

  Geneva yielded. ‘Okay.’ Truce or friendship, it didn’t really matter. She’d missed Kitty, too.

  Kitty grinned. ‘So, tell me about this mystery man — unless Leonie got it wrong. I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s a motormouth, that one. She was there with a guy called Yorkie, or something. Is that a dumb name or what?’ Kitty paused for breath, or for a reaction, Geneva wasn’t sure, before she rushed on.

  ‘I’ve been seeing a guy called Jax. Nearly three months now: I’d suggest we have an anniversary, but he might think it’s dumb — he’s older, you know? He left school years ago. Couldn’t wait to get out, he reckons. I know how he feels: old Harp-on, for example — what a witch! But Jax is really cool. Like, très cool. We’re going to the movies on Friday night — he’s got a car, which beats bussing it, I can tell you. God, listen to me. Hey —’ She stopped, mid-sentence, mid pavement, one hand on Geneva’s arm.

  ‘What I was wondering was, would you maybe like to go to the movies with us? A foursome. You and this mystery bloke, and Jax and me? I mean, I’d really like to see you. You could stay over at my place. Like …’

  Like the old days, Geneva thought. I don’t think.

  ‘Look, I know this is probably the wrong thing to say, but, you know, what the hell. It really got to me when you closed up like that. I mean, Mum was cool about it, and kept telling me I was out of line, small-minded and whatever. She said I should try to be understanding. But I missed you. Really. I was kind of mad with you, I guess. I can see that now.’

  Geneva blinked. The sea of blue they’d been walking amongst had virtually disappeared as the other students hurried home or into town. Kitty was frowning, arms akimbo, waiting for something. ‘I’m not too good in those situations, you know?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Geneva finally answered. ‘I know.’ There was an awkward pause before she finally relented. ‘Me neither.’

  Kitty smiled. ‘So maybe, could we, like, try again? God, that makes it sound like a relationship. “Try again!” Like we’re a couple that split up. Not that, oh, you know what I mean. Shut me up someone.’

  Geneva smiled, despite herself. ‘Well, there’s a challenge. Not sure about the odds on finding anyone brave enough to take it on.’

  ‘Oh, bloody …’ Kitty shoved Geneva’s shoulder and they grinned at each other before starting to walk again.

  ‘So what do you reckon about Friday? My place? Unveil the mystery man, and meet Jax and everything?’

  Geneva wasn’t sure about the très cool Jax, but it would provide an opportunity to see Angus again, and somehow that swung it.

  ‘My mum thinks it’s a great idea,’ Kitty ran on. ‘I think she misses your positive influence on me. As well as missing you of course.’ Kitty grinned again, their feet in sync as they started climbing the overpass. On the far side, their routes diverged. ‘God, mothers. The hassle.’ She looked sideways. ‘So, how about it?’

  Geneva nodded. ‘Yeah, okay.’ She thought about all the years they’d spent staying over at each other’s houses, as well as the year they hadn’t, and caught herself wondering whether Kitty had always talked so much. She smiled and Kitty punched her arm again, sealing the arrangement.

  ‘I’ll tell Mum. She’ll be over the moon. She doesn’t like Jax, by the way. So, tell me about this guy. Leonie said —’

  ‘It wasn’t him, that Leonie saw. That was another one,’ Geneva said as she swung herself onto her bike. Kitty gazed at her, hands on hips.

  ‘There’s more than one? Well, really, Geneva. Shocked, I am. Positively shocked.’

  Geneva grinned, raised a hand in farewell and free-wheeled down the slope to the expressway.

  9.

  Geneva knew she didn’t like Jax within thirty seconds of meeting him. By the time he’d driven them the ten minutes into town, her position was immutable.

  Big-headed, small-minded and a total jerk: he drove like a maniac, shouting abuse at total strangers, and seemed to feel no qualms about sharing his views on anyone and everyone, all of them negative. He was attractive, if you went for the scruffy macho look. Kitty clearly did. She was all over him. No wonder Sonya had been firm about the midnight curfew. Geneva was amazed that she didn’t ban Jax outright.

  There had been a time when Geneva had envied her friend’s relationship with her mother, but not any more. From the moment they got in from school, Kitty had been on the offensive, complaining about inquisitions as soon as Sonya asked Geneva how she was. When Jax arrived he hadn’t even got out of the car, he’d just honked the horn and Kitty had virtually run for the door, cutting her mother off mid-sentence.

  Geneva had offered a conciliatory smile, but she couldn’t help noticing the worn-down expression that settled on Sonya’s face, and how much older she looked than the last time Geneva had seen her. Whether Jax was the cause or symptom of the changes Geneva couldn’t tell, but it was clear that he was happy to escalate the problem. She tried not to listen as he and Kitty slagged Sonya off on the drive into town.

  By the time they screeched into a park just off the main street, Geneva was wishing vehemently that she hadn’t agreed to come. She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or embarrassed when she saw Angus standing outside the movie theatre.

  Inside, Jax busied himself making an impression on everyone around them while Kitty giggled like an airhead. Geneva kept her eyes on the floor and hoped Angus wasn’t lodging her in the same category. He’d scarcely said more than hello.

  Despite its fairly minimal plot, she found it hard to concentrate on the movie. After a second pointlessly extended car chase she decided it must have been Jax’s selection, though neither he nor Kitty seemed particularly interested in watching it. Geneva glanced at them then shifted sideways, embarrassed. Angus turned his head toward her but she couldn’t read his expression.

  ‘Pretty grim, huh?’ she whispered, unsure whether she was talking about the movie, or Kitty and Jax.

  It was a relief when it ended.

  ‘How’d you get here if you haven’t got a car?
’ Jax made it sound like a significant failing.

  ‘I hitched.’

  Geneva glanced at him in surprise.

  ‘Well, I ain’t taking you back to Hicksville. Way too far out of my way. If you lived closer, man, but …’ His arm tightened around Kitty’s neck as he pulled her head in close.

  ‘No bother,’ Angus said. ‘I wouldn’t expect it.’

  That seemed to mollify Jax, who became suddenly expansive. ‘Hey, the night’s young. Why don’t we cruise out to Kincaid? Don’t need to drop these ladies home for an hour or so yet.’ He whispered something in Kitty’s ear, making her giggle and slap his chest. Geneva looked away.

  ‘No, I —’

  ‘Come on, Angus. Be a sport. It’s too early to go home.’ Kitty dimpled at him and Jax grinned, watching her. Geneva felt nauseous.

  Eventually they piled into Jax’s car and he drove them to the beach. Kitty and he were all over each other before the car had stopped moving. He’d driven most of the way with one arm wrapped around her neck. Angus got out of the car without a backward glance.

  ‘We’ll, um, go for a walk,’ she said to the entwined bodies in front, scrambling after him.

  It was cold. She’d barely caught up with Angus when the car door opened. ‘You might need this,’ Jax called, tossing a travel rug towards her. Geneva felt her face turn scarlet.

  ‘Dick,’ Angus said, heading towards the low sea-wall that separated the sparse grass from the smooth round stones of the beach.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve never met him before.’ She paused. ‘I haven’t seen much of Kitty either. We used to be best friends — for ages, all through school. Then we kind of fell out, last year. This was supposed to be a sort of reconciliation.’

  ‘Hmm.’ They’d reached the wall. ‘Do you want to walk or get out of this wind?’

  ‘I don’t mind.’

  They climbed the wall and Angus peered back at the car, almost invisible in the dim light. ‘We’d better not get too far away. I wouldn’t put it past him to piss off without us — not that that would be all bad.’