‘How are we feeling, guys? On top of the world?’
Will looked very small from the platform at the top of the tower. His voice sounded like it was coming from very far away.
‘How about giving yourselves a group hug for getting this far. Come on, don’t be shy. That’s what you’re here for.’
‘If he has us singing “Kumbaya”, I’m jumping,’ said Amira.
Still they shuffled into a circle and put their arms stiffly around each other. Paula, who’d found herself suddenly next to Rachel, hoped the other woman couldn’t sense her discomfort. Rachel’s touch on her back was as light and fleeting as a falling leaf.
Then it was time to cross the wire to the other tower. Paula had deliberately not been allowing herself to think of this part, that endless thin line stretching into oblivion. The way it would wobble under your feet, the way you would look down and see nothing between you and the ground far below.
‘It’s really not bad,’ said Katie, Will’s waifish assistant who was buckling a safety cord to their harnesses to attach them to the top wire running parallel to the one they were supposed to walk on. ‘That cord is amazingly solid.’
Chloe was first, followed by Rachel. ‘Once more into the breach,’ Rachel said gaily before stepping out on to the wire. She seemed to be making a concerted effort to put the business with Sarah behind her. Paula wondered whether it was for Mark Hamilton’s benefit, then berated herself for being so cynical. She never used to be. Sometimes she wondered if the antidepressants she’d been taking since she and Ian split up were changing her personality. The small print on the leaflet that came with them had said that might be a side effect. Mood altering, it had said. Paula had found that strange, seeing as the whole point of antidepressants as far as she could see was to alter your mood – otherwise, really, what were they for?
When Rachel was partway across, the tightening of the cord between her and Mark indicated it was time for him to set off.
‘Paula, just so you know, my will’s in the top drawer of my desk,’ he joked, turning towards her. She was touched when she noticed his hand was shaking and she again had that sense of connection with him that gave her a warm glow, even in the face of her own growing fear.
But by the time a wan-faced Charlie had started inching his way across to the other tower, Paula had forgotten about Mark Hamilton, forgotten about Rachel and about Will standing down below bellowing encouragement beside Sarah, her red hair vivid against the lush green lawn. All she could think of was that thin wire stretching out across the chasm of thin air.
‘Off you go, Paula,’ said Ewan. ‘The quicker we get across, the quicker we can get down and start the party.’
He was trying to be relaxed and jolly, but Paula could see how his eyes kept darting over to the tiny figure in silver and pale-blue Lycra already over on the other tower. He was itching to have his turn in the limelight, to be impressive.
Paula grabbed tight hold of the hand ropes and put her right foot on the wire. It was a steel cord, made of thinner steel cords all wound around each other. It moved slightly under her foot but at least it didn’t wobble. Her hands were slippery but she clung tight to the ropes on either side, keeping her eyes focused on the other tower where those already across were standing. She saw Mark Hamilton make a thumbs-up gesture.
She took another step forward and another, refusing to look down. Now she was a third of the way across, hands still gripping tight to the ropes. Ahead of her she saw Charlie reach the far tower – a fan of outstretched arms gathering him in. Paula’s longing to get to the end was so great, she could almost experience what it was like to be him, feeling the grip of those hands pulling her to safety. She inched out further. And now the cord underneath her feet was beginning to sway. A splash of red moved in the very outer reaches of her vision – Sarah, changing position down below – making Paula mistime her step so that her foot came down on the outside of the cord. For a second panic stoppered up her throat, but then she slowly shifted her foot back into the right position. The breeze whistled in her ear as if it had been holding its breath.
‘Wow, Paula, you’re practically skipping across there. You sure you’re not descended from mountain goats?’
Will’s voice floated up to her but it was as if it was coming from another world.
Another two steps. And now she was in the very centre of the cord where the swaying was most pronounced and the breeze felt more like a gust that could sweep a person off her feet. Her legs were trembling and she’d lost the feeling in her fingers from gripping the ropes so tightly. And then it happened. A movement so quick it was almost like the wind whooshing, a blurred dark wriggling worm in the corner of her eye, there for a second and then gone.