acknowledge the sensation of feeling cold as the water wraps itself around me; I have to concentrate on kicking my legs hard to bring me back to the surface: I have to choose to live.
I break the surface with a loud gasp, my eyes blinking away the water as Ed swims towards me, laughing. His hands find my waist and he pulls me towards him. I link my arms around his neck as he spins us around.
‘That. Was. Amazing!’ He laughs again, his forehead meeting mine, our feet treading water, the teenagers sitting on the sides of the pool giving us a round of applause: the old couple behaving like adolescents.
We take the Lovers’ Leap jump three more times before we decide to return to our towels. Ed is dozing next to me, his head turned to the side, dark blond hair resting in damp curls across his forehead. I curve my body against his like a comma and try to slow my breathing so that it matches his. This has been fun for him, his shouts and whoops becoming more excited each time we jumped, his legs kicking out like scissors, and I’m glad. But with each jump, my own enjoyment has diminished. With each jump, my enjoyment has been snatched away by the water too soon.
The sounds from day trippers are lessening, the pack of teenagers have long since departed and the pool is becoming deserted. I trace the edges of the rocks, the grooves and ridges, the jagged edges of the smaller ledges that erupt like crystals, until my eyes rest on the edge of a ledge just out of sight. I roll away from Ed, who lets out a small snore, and walk towards the cliff face. The ledge is more visible from beneath Lovers’ Leap. It’s about another three metres, I’d guess.
‘You’re not going to do what I think you are . . . are you?’ Kerry asks from beneath a wide-brimmed straw hat.
It’ll be a longer drop.
‘If you want a bigger jump, go somewhere else tomorrow, somewhere safe.’
I won’t get a chance tomorrow, I’ll have the kids.
I throw a cursory glance at Ed, who is deep in sleep, and then begin climbing the ladder. Once on Lovers’ Leap, I follow the ledge around to the right. I hold on to the rock and stretch my leg out, digging my fingers into the grooves of the rock face. It scrapes my hands and knees, but I push myself forward, finding safe footing. Above me hangs the higher ledge. The rock here is strong and there are plenty of footholds for me to be able to scale upwards without much trouble. My throat is dry, my legs are bleeding a little, but the adrenaline is pushing me forward; the need to feel that freedom – even for a few more seconds – is tempting me, calling out my name. I heave myself onto the ledge and roll onto my back. My breath is coming out in short sharp gasps and I lie here for a few minutes, listening to the silence. But the silence is cracked open by Ed’s voice and I sit up, frustrated that he has interrupted my moment. I stand up and walk towards the edge; it is higher than I first thought. Ed’s hands are waving at either side.
‘Come on, Jen . . . enough is enough.’ I turn my head and watch as Kerry reaches her hand forward towards me, beckoning me away from the brink.
‘You’re not here,’ I say and turn away from her, my feet stepping into air, giving me my freedom back.
Chapter Eighteen
Ed
I can’t believe what I am seeing. She is standing on the edge of the cliff; her head is tilted back and she is smiling. Even from here I can see that she is at peace. I’m trying to decide on a course of action. I know I haven’t got time to get to her but that doesn’t stop me from looking at the ladder; I know I can’t catch her but it doesn’t stop me from thinking that I can, and it doesn’t stop me from calling her name, even though I know she is going to jump.
My eyes scour the water to where she will land. Sickness rises in my throat as I notice that the blue of the water holds a hidden shadow beneath the surface; the image of the iceberg from Titanic pushes into my thoughts. ‘Jen!’ I shout, but I know