Page 13 of A Not So Quiet Christmas
Feeling like a big baby in some sort of maternity carrier, I shook my head.
“You mean you’d rather hang around here all day?”
I could hear the impatience in his voice and again, I shook my head.
“Then you’re going to have to work with me.”
I pictured the man’s stern expression. “Okay,” I replied.
“On the count of three, I’m going to start walking backwards. I want you to let go and do the same.”
I whimpered in response, trying to summon up the required courage.
“You can use your hands to steady yourself if you want to.”
Realising I had no choice but to trust him, I told myself Barrowboy had done this hundreds of times before. I took a deep breath in readiness.
“One, two, three…” he said.
Keeping hold of both me and his rope, Barrowboy began digging one foot into the mountainside after the other, steering me back down towards the ledge.
The wind continued to blow a gale making it a bumpy ride, but I did my best to follow in his footsteps. “Are we nearly there?” I asked, my heart racing as I tried to see where we were going.
“Don’t look down,” Barrowboy said, as if I was daft. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
I felt a jolt as we, at last, reached the safety of the ledge. My legs turned to jelly as my feet hit terra firma and I couldn’t stop myself from shaking.
“Come on, love,” one of Barrowboy’s colleagues said, approaching with a blanket. “Let’s get you wrapped up.”
“Thanks, mate,” Oliver said to Barrowboy, while Frank barked and fought to get out of the rucksack.
Barrowboy nodded.
Overwhelmed with relief, I burst into tears.
