‘Why do they call this Arrow’s Path?’ I ask, as we make our way along the track.
‘I’m not sure, something to do with it being a perfectly straight path, scored out through the countryside by a Scottish hunter,’ says Joanne. ‘The path leads to the edge of a gorge and a rock the shape of an arrowhead juts out over it. Apparently, the arrow hit the cliff and made the gorge, which then allowed the water to flow down into the river, hence the waterfall called Archer’s Fall.’
‘Is it a popular tourist spot?’ asks Andrea. ‘I thought we might see some other hikers.’
I look at the empty path ahead of us. The forest is on our left over the other side of the hill. Here the landscape is bleak. Hills roll in from either side as the path leads through the centre of a valley. Long grass, brambles and heather add the only texture.
‘It’s not hugely popular,’ says Joanne. ‘When we were here last year, we only saw one other family all week. There’s not much else around to bring the tourists in.’
‘How far from civilisation are we?’ asks Andrea.
‘About fifteen miles. There’s a small town to the south called Gormston. Other than that, I wouldn’t like to say, but you’d certainly need a vehicle to get anywhere. Aberdeen is about a hundred miles to the east.’
I call up my rough mental map of Scotland which, I confess, is very sketchy. I have a general idea of where Aberdeen is, but that’s about it.
‘We really are in the middle of nowhere,’ says Andrea. ‘What if there’s an emergency? You’ve got no landline, no mobile phone coverage and I haven’t seen a car parked at the croft.’
‘I told you, there’s a radio in the kitchen.’
‘But what about now? What if we have an accident out here?’ Andrea gives me an incredulous look.
‘Relax,’ says Joanne. ‘You’ve all got the survival packs I gave you, but I also have a small hand-held radio with me and a flare. Stop worrying.’
I must admit, encountering a problem out here isn’t exactly appealing but we do have a basic emergency pack and first-aid kit. It’s what I would take with me normally if I was out on a hike. On a run, I only have my mobile phone with me, having the luxury of phone coverage, unlike here. At least Joanne has a backup device, even if it is at the croft. I make a mental note to check it out when we return.
After about another hour walking, we stop for a refreshment break.
‘I’ve got flasks of hot tea when we get to Arrow’s Head,’ says Joanne, ‘but for now we can have water.’
I open my flask and look around. The path cuts its way between two hills, inclining slightly as it does so and then disappearing over the brow. With another hour to go, I guess our final destination is some way off yet.
Final destination.
The words resound in my head and remind me of the comment the guy in the van made yesterday. Why did it make me feel the same now as it did then? Uncomfortable. Nervous. I shake my head to be rid of the negative thoughts that are threatening to get out of control. I am overreacting and have no idea why. To distract myself, I take my camera from my pocket.
‘Group photo,’ I announce to the others. ‘Let’s get a selfie.’
The others huddle together while I balance the camera on a rock, checking they are in the frame. I set the timer and then run to join the group, where we all strike a pose and wait for what seems like far longer than ten seconds for the flash to go off. After examining the photo and all agreeing it was quite a good one, I take some snaps of the landscape.
‘Let’s get going now,’ says Joanne, popping her water bottle in her rucksack. ‘Tell me, has anyone got any more ideas about who the mystery characters are?’
‘Oh don’t,’ groans Zoe. ‘I’m useless at this game. I’m going to have to ask the Oracle tomorrow, that’s for sure.’
‘How did you choose our characters?’ asks Andrea, as we begin our ascent along the path. ‘Was it a random choice or was there a method to it?’
‘There was definitely a method,’ says Joanne. ‘I hand-picked each character with great care for their qualities and relevance.’
I try to work out why I have been given my character. Someone who married a Prince and who Joanne has branded as an adulteress. How was that connected to me? Darren and I may have been getting a divorce, but I certainly hadn’t had an affair. ‘Did you definitely give us the right characters?’ I ask.
‘Yes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ve given you a character that relates to you.’
‘And the secret associated with that character, what’s the relevance of that? Or was that random?’ asks Andrea.
‘You should know the answer to that,’ I say. ‘Nothing is ever random where Joanne is concerned.’
‘I thank you,’ says Joanne, turning around and giving a small bow to the rest of us. ‘Spoken by someone who knows me only too well.’
We trudge along the path and I think of the clues once again. So, the character I have could be Andrea or Zoe and the secret is that of an adulteress, which Joanne has specifically chosen to fit one of us. I know it’s not me, so that must mean Joanne believes either Andrea or Zoe have had, or are having, an affair.
I run the idea through my mind with each of them. I can’t imagine Andrea having an affair. She and Colin have a rock-solid marriage. I dismiss the notion almost immediately. Could Zoe be having an affair? She’s single, so that must mean she’s having an affair with a married man. Again, I want to dismiss the notion straight away. I can’t see Zoe doing that, not after her own husband did it to her. It’s simply not her style. Joanne must be wrong about this. At least, I hope she is.
At least the weather is on our side; the grey clouds of this morning have been blown south by the gentle breeze which has brought whiter and thinner clouds our way. After another fifty-five minutes, I can see the path ahead level out and widen.
‘We’re here,’ announces Joanne.
As we reach the wider part of the path, we are met by the beautiful sight of Archer’s Falls. The waterfall is on the other side of the gorge, which is about fifty metres across. The narrow breadth of water sloshes lazily over the rocks and down the side of the gorge, tumbling into a pool below.
‘This is breathtaking,’ I say, as we stand at the edge of the path. A large rock juts out over the pool. ‘Is this Arrow Head? Is it safe enough to walk out on to?’
‘Perfectly safe,’ replies Joanne. ‘We definitely should take another picture of us all standing out there.’
I walk a few steps closer to Arrow Head.
‘I’m not going out there,’ says Zoe. ‘Not in a million years. It’s bloody dangerous.’
‘No, it’s not,’ counters Joanne. She marches out to the edge of the rock and turns to face us, her arms wide open. ‘Look!’ Joanne jumps up and down a few times, before sitting on her bottom and hanging her feet over the edge.
‘Don’t be so stupid!’ shouts Zoe. ‘Come back this minute!’
‘I’m not one of your kids!’ Joanne’s response is terse.
I make my way towards the edge but stop short of sitting on the end of the rock. I’ve rock-climbed and abseiled regularly with the outward-bound centre I work for, but always with sufficient safety ropes and precautions. ‘This is the most beautiful view ever,’ I say, taking more pictures of the vista before me. ‘No towns or buildings, just valleys and mountains.’
‘Now you see why I brought you all here,’ says Joanne. She looks below her. ‘That pool down there leads out into a small river which eventually winds its way past the croft and on into Gormston.’
I shuffle a little closer to the edge for a look. ‘Wow. Is there any way we can get to the pool?’
‘Yes. This is one of my surprises,’ says Joanne, swinging her legs up on to the edge of the rock and standing up. She brushes non-existent dust from her trousers. ‘This is where you come in handy.’
‘I do?’
‘We’re going to abseil down there.’
‘We are?’ I raise my eyebrows and look at Zoe and Andrea. ‘I take it they don’t know that.’
‘Of course not. They wouldn’t have come. Don’t worry, they won’t have any choice. It’s a fait acompli.’