My Lies, Your Lies - Susan Lewis Page 0,93
whatever you want it to be.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
She had to go now.
Waiting for someone to come and let her out could no longer be an option. For all she knew, Freda had no intention of coming back, and it didn’t seem as though Brenda and her husband were going to show up either.
One more day of sitting here, worrying about her mother and where Freda might be, or what she could be doing, would drive her mad.
She had no coat, only a thick sweater to protect her from the cold, but at least the wind had dropped and no music was playing. Her core and limbs were strong, thanks to regular yoga classes, and her jeans were two per cent elastane, which would help her to move. She’d throw her trainers and socks down first so she’d have something for her feet in the hope she made it in one piece to join them; for the descent she’d decided, based on no knowledge at all, that it would be best to go barefoot. The cold would be horrible, crippling even, and might make her more likely to fall, but she had to risk it.
Her phone was already tucked into a back pocket, but she’d have to leave her laptop behind. Just in case she didn’t make it she’d finished the letters to Holly, her mother and Callum.
Tense with fear, she kicked off her trainers and socks, took several deep breaths and pulled up the window to climb over the sill onto the balcony. The air was so icy she almost drew straight back inside, but she kept her eyes fixed on the rail, counted to five, and after tossing her trainers and socks she grabbed the rail with both hands and hooked one leg over. She sat astride for a moment, catching her balance and struggling with the wisdom of going on. This was crazy, beyond insane; she was never going to make it.
She didn’t dare to look out or down, mustn’t allow herself a perspective on how small and vulnerable she was in this wild and wintry landscape, or how exposed and endangered she was going to be clinging to random branches on the outside of the tower.
She must stay focused on what was in front of her; try to remain oblivious to everything else.
Yoga breaths.
Tightening her grip, she swung her other leg over the rail, slotted her heels between the bars, pulled back her shoulders and stood facing the swollen might of the tor. Her hands were clinging so tightly to the bar at her back that she could almost feel the bones cracking. She didn’t look down at the boulders below, but was so aware of them that they seemed to generate a magnetic force all of their own.
Slowly, carefully she edged one foot into the next gap in the bars, following it with the other, and kept going until she was at the corner. The cold was so penetrating that already she could barely feel her hands or feet. She couldn’t allow them to become numb, but had no way of stopping it.
She needed to move faster, but if she did she’d be sure to make a mistake and any mistake here was going to cost her her life.
Whispering prayers under her breath, she bent her knees slowly and hand over hand lowered her grasp to come level with her eyes. She had no choice but to look down now for she needed to seek out the closest branch that might hold her. To her horror they all looked so flimsy that she knew it would be madness even to test them. But then she spotted one snaking its way around the corner of the tower to disappear beneath the balcony. It was no more than two inches in diameter, but maybe, just maybe, it was tough enough to act as a foothold.
Gingerly she stretched out her right leg, still clinging on for dear life with both hands, until she felt the rough bark beneath the arch of her foot. She pressed down gently. It didn’t move so she pressed harder, willing it not to snap or fall away from its mooring. When it held again she allowed more weight to sink into it, careful to keep the bulk of her balance attached to the balcony. Still it didn’t give, but how on earth was she going to fit both feet on such a slender stem with no space between it and the concrete wall?
She was doing