The Forgotten Letters of Esther Durrant - Kayte Nunn Page 0,24

didn’t care. As long as we got to climb.”

Eve was astonished. “It was really that sexist?”

“Oh yes. That wasn’t the half of it. Climbing has long been the preserve of males. One of my favorites, the Grepon, in the French Alps, was climbed by two women, Miriam O’Brien Underhill and her partner, Alice Damesme, in 1929 if I remember correctly. After that some ridiculous French mountaineer—male of course—was reported to have said, ‘Now that it has been done by two women alone, no self-respecting man can undertake it. A pity, too, because it used to be a very good climb.’ Can you believe it? It made me absolutely furious when I heard the story. The prejudice even then was astounding. Women weren’t supposed to have the mental fortitude for high Alpine climbing, let alone the physical strength. But we proved them wrong.”

Eve heard the satisfaction in her voice.

“I remember my first summit of Mont Blanc. It was the hardest climb I’d ever attempted, and I certainly didn’t feel ready, but then I don’t think one ever does. Well, I never did anyway. We’d spent two nights acclimatizing at a local hut. I wished I had thought to bring earplugs—some of the men snored horribly, so any sleep I did manage was fitful at best, but at least the food was good. Though I would have eaten anything you put in front of me, truth be told. Climbing sharpens the appetite.

“We descended to Chamonix for a night and prepared for the summit. As usual, we began the climb in darkness, to get as high up the mountain as possible before the sun softens the snow too much. As we reached the Grand Couloir, a snowstorm blew up and we couldn’t see where we were going. It was like iron filings on my cheeks. Our leader asked if anyone wanted to go back down, but everyone voted to keep going. We climbed through the couloir and then had a scramble upward for nearly half a mile. By this time it was beastly cold, but we kept on. There was a nasty cornice, I remember; I was worried it would collapse on top of us. Then, the storm disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived and the most glorious dawn broke. Orange and crimson tinged with gold.” Her grandmother coughed, wiped her hand over her mouth and continued. “I’ve seen more than my fair share of sunrises, let me tell you, Eve, but I’ve never forgotten this one. There were mountains as far as you could see, their peaks like needles piercing the sky. It was unbelievably, brutally beautiful. There was once a time in my life when I’d thought I’d never find beauty again.” Eve’s ears pricked up—what was her grandmother referring to? She was dropping hints like bread crumbs, but never elaborating. She didn’t have the chance to ask, as her grams continued.

“We got to les Bosses, a ridge of ice just before the summit and I was forced to take a breath with every step, the air was so thin up there. I remember being terribly thirsty, but there was no time to stop to make a drink. Eventually we were there, the whole of Europe spread out beneath us. Majestic is the only word I can think of to describe it, and that doesn’t even come close. It was quite literally breathtaking. The stillness up there, the quiet. The snow and ice dampen the sound. All you can hear is your own heart racing.

“I’d been my father’s daughter, my husband’s wife, a mother . . .” She halted for a moment. “But never someone in my own right. Not until then.”

Eve saw her grandmother close her eyes, letting out a slow breath.

“Are you tired, Grams? Would you like to stop?” she asked.

The old woman’s eyes flew open. “Not a bit.” Her voice was determined. “Now, where were we?”

Eve glanced down at the notes she had made. “At the summit of Mont Blanc,” she replied.

“Ah yes. Now, it had taken us longer to get there than planned and it had gotten late so we had to glissade some of the way down.”

“Glissade?”

“When you take off your crampons and slide down the slope, trying to use your ice axe to steer. If you find yourself going too fast you have to roll over and dig the point of your axe into the snow. When you’ve never done it before it’s quite terrifying.”

Eve listened, fascinated, as her grandmother continued to describe their