I must admit, even by Joanne’s standards, this is taking things too far. I know she would think it hilarious and, to be honest, the prospect of kayaking down the river doesn’t bother me, but it’s the way this has been thrust on us which annoys me. I’m sure Andrea can manage the kayaking, but for Zoe, despite her athletic frame, it may be a tad outside her comfort zone. Zoe is more yoga, tennis and swimming than intrepid adventurer.
Without Joanne, I am the only experienced kayaker. It’s unfair of her to put me in this position. However, there’s not a lot I can do about it now. Once again, Joanne has manipulated us into a situation; what was it she called it earlier? That’s right, a fait accompli.
I look at the kayaks. They are two-seaters, which means one of us will have to paddle alone.
‘How are your paddling skills?’ I ask the others with an enthusiasm I don’t particularly feel. I nod in the direction of our transport.
‘You have got to be joking,’ says Andrea. She looks up at the ledge we have descended from. ‘Joanne! If you’re up there, you’d better get your arse down here quick.’ She turns to me. ‘Can’t you climb up and see what’s happening?’
‘Climb up? Even if I thought that was a good idea, which it’s not, I’ve just sent the harness and ropes back up.’ I look at the rock face. There are a few hand and footholds but only a fool would attempt it without any equipment.
‘The last thing we want is for Carys to fall and hurt herself,’ says Andrea, a slight impatience creeping into her voice. ‘We’ll be well and truly in the shit then.’
‘Sorry. Stupid idea,’ says Zoe.
‘We haven’t even got any way of calling for help,’ I say. ‘Joanne has the radio in her rucksack. Well, I assume she does. I should have checked.’ While my anger simmers beneath the surface, I’m aware of a different sensation now taking prime position. One of unease. I can’t help but question Joanne’s motivation for pulling this stunt. It’s not the physical danger she is putting us in that worries me most but the psychology behind her actions. She’s an intelligent woman, married to a psychologist, she must know this will cause stress and anxiety to us as individuals and to us as a group. I don’t want to voice my concerns out loud, not yet. This isn’t the time or place. Right now we need to adopt a pragmatic approach. However, in my head, misgivings about this entire weekend have gone from a distorted hum to a coherent whisper.
‘This it totally irresponsible of her,’ says Andrea, her hands on her hips. I nod my agreement.
‘Let’s not waste any more time moaning about it,’ says Zoe. ‘We don’t have a choice. It’s canoeing or nothing.’
‘Kayaking,’ I say needlessly.
Zoe shrugs. ‘Whatever.’
‘Hey, what’s that?’ Andrea says, pointing up to the ledge again.
As we all look up, another small white piece of paper floats down towards us. Andrea makes a couple of grabs for it, but the paper flutters away from her grasp and lands on the stones at our feet. As Andrea stoops to pick it up, something makes me look up again. I barely have time to register it, but I see something falling towards us.
‘Look out!’ I shout, covering my head with my hands and diving out of the way. I feel a whack on my shoulder and I cry out in pain as whatever it is lands on the ground by my side.
‘It’s the rope,’ says Andrea. ‘Oi! Joanne! Talk about bloody stupid!’ I can hear the anger in Andrea’s voice.
Unsurprisingly there is no response. ‘That kind of puts an end to any notion of climbing back up,’ I say, rubbing my shoulder, which feels a little tender. I will probably have a bruise or a burn mark as a result. ‘Anyway, what does the note say?’
Andrea has picked the note up from the floor by now and unfolds it.
SEE YOU LATER. HAVE FUN!
‘Have fun!’ repeats Andrea. ‘I’ll give her fun when I see her.’
‘OK, let’s get this over with now,’ I say, sensing Andrea is on the verge of having one of her unstoppable rants. They don’t happen often, but when they do, anybody in her way had better look out. All sorts of scenarios race through my mind, involving Andrea telling Joanne exactly what she thinks of this latest stunt. I wince at the thought of the two of them locking horns again. If this weekend was Joanne’s attempt to patch things up, then she has seriously misjudged how to go about it.
‘Are either of you any good in a kayak?’ I ask, distracting Andrea from her murderous thoughts about Joanne.
‘I’ve only kayaked a few times,’ says Zoe.
‘I’ve canoed,’ says Andrea. ‘When I was the activities coordinator for the sea cadets. You know, when Bradley went through a phase of thinking he wanted to join the navy?’
I smile, remembering it well. Bradley had roped Alfie into going along with him for a couple of meetings, but then Darren died and Alfie had stopped going. I never nagged him to go again; maybe with hindsight I should have. If Alfie’d had something to occupy himself with, to take his mind off things at home, rather than shutting himself away in his bedroom, maybe he’d be a different lad to the one he is now. Once again, the guilt rises in me.
‘You can take one kayak,’ says Andrea before I have a chance to speak. ‘And I’ll go in the other one with Zoe.’
‘I can take the lead, all you two have to do is to follow me.’ I step nearer to the edge of the water and look down towards the river. The embankment becomes steeper further along and changes from grass and stones to rocks and boulders. On the other side of the river, the cliff face is about sixty or seventy metres high, towering over us. The river bears off to the right downstream and I can’t see any further, but the water itself is calm. The gentle waterfall on the other side is having little or no impact on the pool.
‘How far do we have to paddle for?’ asks Zoe, coming to join me at the water’s edge.
‘I’m not sure. Joanne said the river runs right past the croft. There’s probably some sort of landing point around there.’
The kayaks are quite stable in the water and Joanne at least had the foresight to provide life jackets and safety helmets. I gather up the rope that was thrown down from the cliff and wind it into a neat coil around my hand and elbow before dropping it into the front of the boat.
‘What do you make to this?’ asks Andrea, her hands on her hips again, one foot resting on the edge of the other kayak.
‘What’s that?’ I say, looking into the boat. ‘Safety helmets, life jackets. What’s the problem?
‘Count them.’
‘Four of each,’ I reply, not understanding what Andrea is getting at. Zoe looks equally blank.
‘Four helmets and four life jackets,’ says Andrea. ‘And how many of us are there? Three. Why would she put four in if she wasn’t planning on coming?’
‘Does seem odd,’ I agree, trying to make sense of Joanne’s actions. I find myself questioning everything she has done this weekend. Joanne doesn’t appear to have left anything to chance but I’m struggling to rationalise her actions. ‘I suppose she may have put four there in case she changed her mind and decided to come with us. You know what Joanne’s like.’ As I say the words out loud, I’m aware they don’t sound particularly convincing.
‘It’s possible,’ says Andrea, and I can detect the scepticism in her voice. ‘Wonder what made her change her mind?’
‘Who knows.’ I try to concentrate on getting back to the croft; we can analyse Joanne’s actions later. One by one, I pick up the helmets and hand them out, repeating the process with the lifejackets. We spend a few minutes getting organised and I issue some tips to Zoe and Andrea about getting into the kayak. ‘We’ll have to wade out into some deeper water,’ I say.
‘It’s bloody freezing,’ squeals Andrea. We’ve all rolled our trousers up to our knees and the water is now overlapping the tops of our socks.
Zoe is on tiptoe. ‘Quick, get me in that boat.’
The water is extremely cold. There has been no sun today to take the chill off even the shallow water. I hold the kayak still as Zoe clambers in first. Fortunately, it is the type of kayak that you sit inside. Zoe wriggles around and gets herself comfortable.
Andrea sits behind Zoe and the kayak rocks from side to side as they take up their paddles. I give the boat a little push out into the middle of the pool. ‘Tandem paddle,’ I call over to them as I go back to the shore to retrieve my kayak and bring it into deeper water.
Despite my intention to forget about Joanne and her games, I can’t stop my mind returning to the undercurrent of tension I have sensed all along from Joanne. I’m beginning to think my interpretation of the rationale behind the invite was totally wrong.
A shriek from the other kayak makes me look up. Andrea and Zoe are heading for the bank. Andrea is barking instructions at Zoe, who seems to be having trouble working out her left from her right.
‘Right hand down!’ Andrea shouts. ‘Right. In. Pull. Out. Left. In. Pull. No! Not like that. You’ve got to do it faster.’
‘Zoe! Stop paddling for a second!’ I yell. ‘Now, left. Left. And again. Keep going! Left!’ I watch through half-closed eyes as the kayak heads straight for the bank. Somehow Andrea manages to avert a complete disaster and the kayak bears away from the bank, but not before going under an overhanging branch. Zoe dodges out of the way, sending the kayak to one side and then the other.
The splashes and screams echo around the gorge as they both end up in the water. The kayak, now without the weight of the passengers, pings upright.
‘You fucking idiot!’ Andrea shouts, rather uncharitably, at Zoe, who shouts back that it wasn’t her fault, that she thought Andrea was steering and didn’t she see that bloody branch?
As they somehow manage to haul themselves into the kayak, much to my relief, laughter erupts from both of them. I paddle over and, pulling alongside, steady their kayak with my hand.
‘Are you two all right?’ I ask once I’ve managed to stop laughing myself. ‘Honestly, I wish I had a video camera, that was hilarious.’
‘Good job the water isn’t very deep here,’ says Andrea. ‘My bottom half is soaked. Are you OK, Zoe? Sorry about shouting at you.’
Zoe waves away Andrea’s apology. ‘It’s fine, don’t worry. I am freezing, though. When I see Joanne, I’m going to make her pay for this.’
‘She’s not watching us from up there somewhere, laughing at us, is she?’ I ask, scanning the top of the rock face and then the tree-lined embankment. Not that I can see much through the dense woodland. I take my jacket off and hold it out to Zoe. ‘Take this. I’ve got my thermal vest on underneath my jumper, I’ll be fine. Sorry, Andrea, I don’t have anything else you could borrow.’
‘It’s OK. I’ll survive. Let’s get going or it will be dark at this rate.’
We paddle down the river, Andrea and Zoe eventually settling into something of a rhythm. Despite there being two of them in one kayak, I make better headway. Twice I slow down to wait for them to catch up as they tack their way along the river.
The skies are darkening by the time we round a bend in the river and see the bridge near the croft in the distance. I glance up to the left and can see the two chimneys of the croft poking above the brow of the embankment.
‘Thank goodness for that. Well done, you did it!’ My arms are burning from the effort of paddling a double kayak single-handedly and I’m glad we’re finally here. We paddle over to the embankment where there is a small pontoon, just big enough for two people to stand on.
After faffing around, we manage to successfully exit the kayaks and tie them up to the small scaffold post on the side of the pontoon.
The grey skies look a menacing charcoal colour now and with dusk creeping up on us and mist settling on the water, the croft is a welcome sight.
‘I can’t see any lights on,’ says Andrea.
‘No smoke from the chimney either,’ I comment. I had hoped Joanne would be waiting for us with a healthy fire roaring away in the hearth. Sadly, it doesn’t look to be the case.
‘Don’t tell me this is still part of her joke,’ huffs Andrea.
As we near the croft, with Zoe leading the way, she stops and turns to us. ‘That’s odd. The door is open.’
‘I was the last one out this morning and I definitely closed it,’ says Andrea. ‘I remember checking with Joanne that she had the key.’
I venture ahead, pushing the door gingerly. ‘Joanne? Are you there?’
‘Where the bloody hell is she?’ says Andrea.
‘What if she got lost? Or had an accident?’ says Zoe, verbalising my own fears.
‘If she’s not here, we’ll have to go back and look for her,’ I say. I glance outside, not wanting the others to read my expression. I’m not relishing the prospect of going on a manhunt in the dark when we’re all cold and wet. Joanne’s behaviour is pissing me off now.
‘This is a stupid game. ’ Andrea huffs loudly, having finally lost her patience. ‘I want to say it’s her own bloody fault for going off alone.’
I raise my eyebrows at my friend, who glares at me defiantly. ‘I’m only saying what you two are thinking.’ She bundles her way past me and switches on the light. ‘I’m going up for a shower.’ Andrea stops at the foot of the stairs, lets out a sigh and turns to face us. ‘Look, I’m sure she’s here somewhere but I’m not in the mood right now to play hide and seek. I’m cold, I’m wet and I’m tired. I’m going to have a shower and if she hasn’t turned up by then, we’ll go and look for her. I’m not pandering to her and her stupid games any more.’
Zoe gives me a questioning look, which I answer with a shrug. Then after a second or two of internal debate, she unzips her jacket. ‘OK, I must admit, I can’t wait to get out of these wet clothes either. But if she’s not turned up by the time we’ve showered and changed into dry clothes, we have to look for her. Agreed?’
‘Agreed,’ I reply.
Zoe hands me my jacket. ‘Thanks for the borrow. See you in five.’
I take the jacket and hang it on the peg. ‘Let me grab some dry clothes first and then I’ll put the kettle on and light the fire.’
Dressed in a dry pair of jogging-bottoms and T-shirt, I go into the living room, half-expecting Joanne to be sitting in the armchair, smiling smugly at me, but the room is empty. I have a quick look in the dining room and kitchen, in case she’s in there, but again, there is no sign of her.
I shiver and goosebumps run down my spine. I can’t shake off that undercurrent of something not being right. The sight of my reflection in the window makes me jump and I scold myself for letting the strange atmosphere in the house get the better of me.
As I go about setting the fire and lighting it, I can hear the shower running upstairs and then Andrea calling out to Zoe that she has finished. Doors open and close, footsteps patter across the landing and the shower runs again, this time accompanied by the muted sounds of Zoe singing.
The fire takes ages to light, but eventually the little pieces of kindling and white firelighter blocks catch. The smell of paraffin from the blocks seeps into the room as the fire takes hold. I stand up and from the corner of my eye, I catch a movement through the window. I spin round to face the glass, but only my reflection looks back at me.
I wonder if it’s Joanne outside, attempting to creep into the house without being noticed. The anger that has been simmering quietly below the surface all afternoon flares up and I stride down the hall to the front door, intending to turn the tables and catch her by surprise this time.
I grab the torch from the shelf and yank open the door but am greeted only by the advancing dusk, the daylight long since swallowed up by the grey tones of the evening and deteriorating weather. I flick the light switch by the front door and the driveway is illuminated in a soft amber glow which fades and fizzles out as it stretches away from the croft.
I peer into the monochrome landscape, wafting the torch from side to side, the beam sweeping the driveway. ‘Joanne? Is that you?’ As I step out from the shelter of the porch, the wind catches a loose strand of my hair, whipping it across my face. I hook it with my finger and hold it against the side of my head. ‘Joanne, are you there?’
The bushes rustle as a stronger gust of wind chases its way across the driveway. The branches of the trees yield to the wind, bowing in deference to the elements. The wind buffets against my ears, distorting the sound and for a moment I am thrown off balance as I lose my orientation and stumble to one side. The front door slams behind me and while my brain registers the sound as unthreatening, my body is a nanosecond ahead and sends adrenalin rushing through my nerve endings as I jump and let out a small shriek.
Every instinct is telling me to go inside, but another sound, a stifled high-pitched noise, one that is out of place with the surroundings and weather conditions, breaks through the momentary pause in the wind. I shine the light to the left, where the sound came from. ‘Joanne? Is that you?’
My feet involuntarily lead me towards the rear of the croft.