Page 26 of If I Could Say Goodbye
I stand up and squint at the steel ladder that is bolted into the cliffside. ‘Come on, Ed! Let’s go.’
He rolls onto his side and props his head to the left. ‘You’re not serious?’
‘I am deadly serious.’
‘Ooh . . . she’s deadly serious. Nice.’Kerry replies from the edge of the pool, where she is making ballerina steps around the water’s edge.
‘Jen, you wouldn’t even jump off the kids’ diving board last year and now you want to do a cliff jump?’ He laughs. ‘Very funny.’
‘Fine . . . I’ll do it myself, but I don’t think jumping off Lovers’ Leap without my lover is going to give us much luck.’ I kick off my sliders, pull my green swimsuit out of my bum cheeks and head towards the cliff. The rock surface feels rough and warm beneath my feet as they take me towards the ladder.
‘Jennifer! Jen! Wait!’
I smile. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist it. I stop in my tracks and turn towards him, as he pulls his T-shirt over his head and throws it towards the cool box and towels, jogging towards me, running a hand through his hair.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Ed asks, looking up at the ladder, the fastenings rusting into the slate-grey surface. ‘It’s quite high.’ His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as his eyes follow the steps towards the summit, but I focus on the bolts.
The Imaginable Death of Jennifer Jones – #4
Death by Falling Ladder
Fifty years ago, this was a place of fun for the local teens. They would swim in the pool on hot days, skate across it in the winter and climb the cliff on Friday nights, their bodies filled with the daring and optimism of youth. Until one Friday night, Billy Wise, eager to impress his would-be sweetheart, climbed the rock face. Even though Billy knew that the rock was wet from the rain earlier in the day, he could think of nothing other than Eva’s lips on his and so he dug in his heels and began to climb. But the rock was more slippery than he had thought and even though he was a good climber, even though his fingers were strong, his boots couldn’t find their place and Billy Wise fell to his death. He got the kiss from Eva, but Billy’s heart had already stopped beating when her lips met his.
Billy Wise’s father – Billy senior – grieved the death of his son acutely. And even though the teenagers talked about poor Billy Wise, it didn’t stop them coming to the cliff, Billy’s death making the treacherous climb even more of a challenge.
He couldn’t bear the thought of another father losing his son and so Billy senior cashed in his life savings and spent months hammering steel into rocks. But when he was almost finished, when he had sold everything he could to pay for the tools he needed, his money ran out. Billy senior begged and pleaded with the community to help pay for the last few rungs of the ladder. And after many cake sales and sponsored walks, he did it. The metal he used to complete the ladder was not as strong as the metal he had used before. But even so, eventually, his ladder was complete.
Jennifer’s feet climb, her toes curling against the metal rungs beneath. Around her, the green hills roll and turn their backs, the seagulls call her name in warning, but the sea beyond whispers its encouragement. On she climbs: white knuckles, thumping heart, glistening lip. Jennifer is almost at the top, her foot stepping onto the final parts of the ladder that Billy senior had struggled to build . . . the ladder that years of wind and age had been testing the strength of. As the woman’s foot presses down, the rust breaks off, orange dust falling onto the green of her swimsuit as the rung finally pulls away. She watches her fingers holding on to the metal bar, which frees itself. She’s free, falling: no longer waiting for the kiss of life.
‘Jen!’ Ed’s voice brings me back as he calls from behind me. ‘Hurry up!’
I blink.
I pull myself to the top and walk towards the edge of Lovers’ Leap. Beneath me, the pool shimmers with temptation. The sun is beating down and beads of sweat are running along my spine, from the sun as well as the climb up the ladder. The ground scrapes the bottom of my foot as I step back, the jagged edges of the rocks splitting and fracturing, age revealing their scars.
‘We have to kiss first,’ he says before taking a step forward and peering over the edge. ‘It’s quite a long way down.’ He cranes his neck. Excited voices come from behind us and we move aside to let a pair of teenagers kiss. Laughing and standing on opposite sides of the ledge, they count: ‘One, two, three!’ Their nimble bodies leap into the air, and their squeals are received by the pool with a splash, just a split second later. Ed takes my hand and we step towards the edge, where the teenagers are swimming towards each other, grinning and smoothing their hair back. They meet, arms around each other’s necks; another kiss before swimming to the edge of the pool.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ he asks, his eyebrows meeting as he scans the distance below us.
‘Yep. You don’t have to if you don’t want to do it,’ I say, taking in the pallor of his skin and the worry crossing his features.
‘What, and let you have all the fun? Not likely.’ He grins, with uncertainty resting in the corners of his lips.
We kiss. I taste the salt in our sweat, and the tang of strawberries as we pull apart and stand in our respective positions.
‘One, two, three!’ I shout. The air around me stills, my ears filled only with the sound of my heart beating as my feet step forward. How easy it is to just step into air. It takes no effort, the same movement that you use when you get out of bed to go to the toilet. I do thousands of these steps every day, and yet none of them have ever made me feel this way. My stomach feels as though it’s rising faster than my body is descending, the sensation deliciously different while my eyes glimpse the greens and the blues surrounding me. I am free. Nothing is holding me, keeping me trapped; I can’t decide to stop: my action cannot be reclaimed. All too soon, my freedom is taken away from me. I have to tell myself to hold my breath as my body plummets into the water; I have to 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.
