How to Fall (19 page)

‘You obviously do.’

‘You’re not going to give up until I tell you, are
you
?’ I didn’t have to answer; the look on my face was enough. ‘Right. Well, it goes back a while, like I said. I was ten. Just a little kid.’

I tried and failed to imagine Will as a skinny ten-year-old.

‘I had plenty of mates, but my best friend had moved away at the end of the school year and I missed him. There was a new boy in my class in September and we got on straight away. He was good at sport too and we started hanging around together, messing about. Kid stuff. The only thing he took seriously was tennis – he was properly good, a lot better than me. He spent hours practising. I’d get bored but he’d keep going, hitting against the back wall of his house.’

‘That’s how the top players get to be the best.’

‘He was shaping up that way, definitely.’ Will stared into the distance for a few moments. ‘Then this gang of older boys started to pick on us. Small things at first – pushing us off the pavement, or taking over the football pitch at the recreation ground even if we were there first. Something we did had pissed them off. Or we hadn’t done anything, but they were bored and we made life more interesting.’

‘How much older were they?’

‘Two years, maybe three. There was this one lad, Stevie, and he was obsessed with dogging us. He
hated
my dad with a passion. And he hated us too. He used to hang around smoking dope, making a nuisance of himself, trying to pick a fight. Petty things, mostly. Nothing we couldn’t manage. Until Ryan lost his temper with him and shoved him off the harbour wall.’

‘Ryan? That’s who your friend was?’

‘Didn’t I say?’ Will looked amused. ‘Hard to believe, isn’t it? Mr Popular and me, hanging around together. Anyway, Stevie was on the large side and fat floats so he wasn’t in any danger, but it was November and the sea was cold. Besides, it was a hell of a loss of face. Everyone in his gang saw it and they didn’t rush to throw him a lifebelt – they were too busy laughing. The only way he was going to get his rep back was if he paid us back. He told Ryan he had to meet him after school one day so he could fight him. If Stevie won, he was going to break his arm.’

‘That’s horrible.’

‘The worst thing was, Ryan was prepared to go through with it. He thought he had a chance at winning, which was laughable because Stevie was twice his weight and height. He knew he’d have to have the fight sooner or later because there was no way he’d keep out of Stevie’s way long enough for the dust to settle. And he definitely didn’t want to tell any grown-ups about it.’

‘But you did.’

‘I was having nightmares about it – waking up screaming. It was going to be the end of Ryan playing tennis, apart from anything else. And just the thought of Stevie breaking his bones deliberately.’ Will pulled a face. ‘It was the middle of the night before the fight was supposed to happen and I was crying in my sleep. My dad came to see what was wrong. He woke me and I told him. I was half asleep – I didn’t even know what I was saying – but no one cares about that. I told on Stevie and his parents got told about what he was planning and he got excluded from school, permanently. In the end they sent him to boarding school to keep him away from the other kids who were a bad influence on him. Actually, he was the bad influence on them, but you couldn’t expect his own parents to see that.’

‘Wasn’t Ryan grateful to you?’

‘For what? Two weeks later, Stevie’s mates caught up with Ryan. He didn’t put up a fight but they broke his arm anyway.’

‘Oh no.’

Will nodded. ‘It wasn’t nice. But Ryan wouldn’t tell my dad who did it. He kept his mouth shut and got a lot of respect for it. He gave up playing tennis and he never spoke to me again.’

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ I said hotly. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’

‘I told. You don’t tell.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s not worth worrying about.’

But I could imagine years of loneliness – years of having to pretend he didn’t mind that no one talked to him or sat with him at lunch time or picked him for their team – and the bleakness of it took my breath away.

‘Don’t you hate them?’

‘Who?’

‘Everyone else. It’s a stupid reason to pick on you.’

‘You’re telling me.’ Will glanced in my direction. ‘Don’t get too worked up about it. I realized early on that I had a choice. I could mind a lot and run the risk of going a bit mental thinking about it, or I could make the most of people like the Leonards who didn’t care about that sort of thing and forget about the idiots. I went for Option B.’

‘Easier said than done.’

‘Not really. I keep my head down at school and work instead of messing around, which is probably what I’d choose to do anyway. The only thing I missed out on was playing football and rugby. So I did cross-country and climbing instead.’

The don’t-care attitude was like armour plating and
I
wasn’t going to be able to put a dent in it even if I didn’t believe he was as laid-back about it as he pretended. The whole story made it a lot easier to understand Will’s self-contained quality, and his loyalty to the Leonards. ‘I suppose I get why you’re not too bothered about Darcy. But she’s not a bad person.’

‘She’s the definition of a bad friend.’

‘I thought that was you.’ I said it to tease him but he looked grim.

‘Yeah. You could say that.’

‘Come off it, Will. It doesn’t sound to me as if you have anything to be guilty about. Not about Ryan or Freya.’

He didn’t look at me and I had to lean forward to hear him. ‘What if she killed herself because I kept turning her down and making me jealous didn’t work?’

‘Unlikely.’

‘You didn’t know her. She was emotional. Impulsive. She loved the idea of love and she read too many stories about it that ended badly.’

I shook my head. ‘It wasn’t dramatic enough for that. It wasn’t a beautiful event. She pitched over the cliff on a summer night without leaving any kind of note, without showing any sign of being anything other than happy in the run-up to her death. There are
only
three possibilities: suicide, accident and murder. I’m inclined to rule out the first one, so you’re off the hook.’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You said accident. It might have been.’

‘Well, that wouldn’t be your fault either.’ I was genuinely puzzled.

Will stood up and jumped off the bench, then held out his hand to me. ‘Do you trust me?’

‘What?’

‘Do you trust me enough to come to the edge with me? There’s something I want to show you.’

I put my hand in his, though strictly speaking I didn’t need to hold it for the ten or so paces that took me to the edge of the cliff. His hand was warm and he held onto mine firmly but not too tightly. I could have wished the cliff were a lot further away. Not least because being back at the edge was an unwelcome reminder of what had happened with Natasha. I couldn’t suppress a shudder as the ground sloped away and I caught a glimpse of the sea spray far below.

‘Don’t panic. I’ve got you.’ Will had been peering over the edge, moving along slowly. Now he braced his foot against a knot of rock hardly bigger than my
fist
, kicking at it first to make sure it was firmly bedded in the ground.

‘Is that safe?’

‘I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.’ He leaned out much as Natasha had done, but looking for something, not showing off. ‘There. See that ledge?’

Don’t think about how high up you are. Look at the cliff, not the water
. I copied him, craning over to see what he was looking at.

‘Bit further. Here, let me help.’ His arm went around my waist and I nerved myself to inch a little bit further towards the edge. ‘See the little patch of green? About four metres down.’

All at once I saw what he was talking about – a narrow step in the rock where grass and tiny pink flowers had seeded themselves. It was about a metre wide and rather more than double that in length.

‘Lovely. Can I step back now?’

‘If you like.’

I scuttled backwards, feeling my heart rate drop with every step I took away from danger. Wild horses wouldn’t drag me back to look again. ‘What’s so exciting about the ledge?’

‘It’s somewhere to stand. You can drop down off the edge and be perfectly safe.’

‘How on earth did you find that out?’

Will shrugged. ‘I’ve climbed up and down most of these cliffs. I used to like sitting there for a rest. You get the view and there’s no chance of anyone turning up to spoil the peace and quiet.’

‘So what?’

His forehead creased. ‘So I told Freya about it. I played a trick on her and Hugo once – pretended I’d fallen over the edge.’

‘Funny.’

‘I thought so at the time. I told them how to find it. Ten paces from the bench, then eight to the left. You just have to jump straight. And overbalance towards the cliff if you don’t get the landing right, or you’re screwed.’

I looked at him doubtfully. ‘You think Freya might have been aiming for the ledge?’

‘I’ve wondered about it.’

‘It was her choice, if she did. I still don’t see where the guilt comes in.’

‘Don’t you? She’d never have thought of it if it weren’t for me.’ Will’s eyes had gone very dark – the sky before a storm. ‘She wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t taught her how to fall.’

We argued it out for another half-hour, going round in circles. Will was determined to believe he was
responsible
for Freya’s actions, and I was equally determined to convince him he was wrong, that it belittled Freya to suggest he was in control of what she did. Neither of us was willing to back down.

‘We’ll have to agree to disagree,’ Will said at last. ‘Unless you find proof of why she did it.’

‘That sounds like a challenge.’

‘You were planning to do it anyway.’

‘You’re right. And you don’t have to take any responsibility for me. What I do is my choice, and I choose to keep poking around.’

‘You really don’t give up, do you?’

‘Not often.’

We started down the path, walking side by side. I slid a little on the steep slope. ‘They really need to put in a cable car.’

‘Why did you decide to come up here?’

‘I told you, I had nowhere else to be.’

‘You could have gone to the beach. Stay on the level. Much less effort all round.’

‘I like it up here. Besides . . .’ I hesitated and Will stopped, eyebrows raised. ‘I wanted to get away.’

‘From what?’

‘My mum.’ To say it or not to say it. Before I’d decided, I heard my own voice: ‘And your dad.’

‘Dad?’ He frowned. ‘What about him?’

‘Mum and I were going for a walk. Then he turned up and she decided she’d rather spend the rest of the day with him.’

Will’s face was grim. ‘She needs to stay away from him.’

‘That would be my preference too.’

‘I mean it. You have to tell her.’

‘I’m not sure she’ll listen to me.’ I looked at him curiously. ‘What’s the history between them? Do you know?’

‘I know my mother would be gutted if she knew they were together.’ He was angry, I realized. ‘Mum’s not in a position to compete with yours. She shouldn’t take advantage of that.’

‘Compete? I don’t think my mother is that sort of person.’

‘Don’t you? It sounds as if you’ve got a lot to learn about her.’

I folded my arms, annoyed. ‘I know her a lot better than you do. If you’re so worried about it, why don’t you tell your dad to stop flirting with her?’

‘He was flirting?’

‘Definitely.’

‘That bastard,’ he said, more to himself than to me. Then, abruptly, ‘I have to go.’

Without waiting for me to reply, he turned and
began
to stride off, far too quickly for me to be able to follow with my knee still aching from Natasha’s kick. It was as if the past hour had never happened; he was as withdrawn and remote as ever, and it sharpened my irritation into anger.

‘It’s nice that you care about your mum,’ I called after him. ‘But don’t you think it’s their problem, not ours? I mean, your mum is old enough to stand up for herself.’

Will stopped and half turned. ‘That’s the one thing she can’t do, actually. She’s in a wheelchair.’

Oh, shit
. I was never going to take anyone’s side against Mum, but it changed things to hear that. It was hardly a fair fight, if it was a fight at all. I was remembering what Tilly had said about her, or
not
said, and the look in my mother’s eyes when Dan Henderson spoke to her, and I didn’t want to know anything more about it all but I couldn’t stop myself from asking: ‘What’s wrong with her?’

Will’s face was as bleak as I’d ever seen it. Quite suddenly I knew what he was going to say even though I hoped I was wrong.

‘She’s dying.’

12

THERE WAS NO
sign of Mum at the cottage, which was both a relief and a worry. I didn’t want to talk to her if I was going to have to break the news about Mrs Henderson and exactly how much of a disloyal dirtbag Will’s dad was. On the other hand, it would have been nice if she’d been back already, bored to tears by him, so I could reassure Will that she wasn’t a threat to his mother’s peace of mind. As it was, I didn’t know what to think.
Please, Mum, just don’t make another bad decision because you’ve fallen for the wrong man
.

I got a drink from the fridge and lay down on the ratty old couch, propping my feet up on the back of it without being too concerned about how dusty my shoes were. I was more tired than I could remember being, and even lifting my drink was an effort. I was glad to be on my own for a bit. It gave me time to think. I needed to organize what I’d been told about
Freya
, and the people around her, and work out where to go next.

Which made it all the more annoying that the only thing on my mind was Will, and the look on his face when he’d told me about his mother, and the motor neurone disease she’d been enduring for years that meant she was unable to walk. Oh, and the stupid, clichéd things I’d stammered before he took pity on me and strode off, leaving me to walk home alone. I hadn’t known what to say – and it wasn’t as if there was anything I could do to make him feel better, not when his mother was dying – but I still burned at the memory. I needed to apologize. I picked up my phone and put it down again.