Lonely Girl (24 page)

Looking about him, Patrick could see a fairly clean opening to the left of where he was standing, winding up the hill. ‘I wonder … that looks to be a likely option …’ He was thinking of Rosie running up to here, and going for the widest trail before her. He decided to go for that. If it turned out to be hard going, he could come back and try the other way.

A decision made, he went on with sore feet but a lighter heart. Also, because he sensed he was almost at the top of the trail, his hopes were higher as he took a moment to rest again.

Then, after a sip of water from the bottle, he was up on his feet once more, marching on and again calling out through cupped hands. Over and over he called out for Harry, so loudly and so fiercely that he was sure his lungs would burst.

Eventually he reached a place by the path where a rock made a natural seat. Before going on, he desperately needed a few minutes to sit and rest, and catch his breath. It had taken all his strength to reach this high spot, and he was done in. Every bone in his body was hurting. The back of his throat felt like sandpaper, and his feet were that sore, they felt as though he’d been locked in the stocks, with every woman in the village whipping a stick across his bare toes.

Grumbling and sighing, he peeled off his socks and tenderly rubbed the life back into his feet. He wiggled his toes for a minute or so, and when he felt more comfortable, he simply left his feet bare, while tenderly running his hands about his ankles and legs to keep the circulation going.

After a while, and being well rested, he was anxious to get on. So he shook himself down and prepared for the next leg of the climb, although now the land appeared to be levelling out a little. He put on his socks and boots, took just the tiniest sip of water to lubricate his throat, and in another moment he was off.

He cautioned himself to ration what remained of the water. No doubt the young ’uns would be glad of a drop of that when he caught up with them … and he
would
catch up with them, he vowed.

Hardened in his purpose, he set off with stout determination and a heart full of hope.

B
ARNEY HEARD IT
first, and he began running round in circles.

‘What’s wrong with you, boy?’ Harry said. ‘Stop your mad antics, and come back here.’

Barney did as he was told, although when he laid down beside Rosie in the shelter, he still made that whining sound in his throat, as though warning them of something. Both Harry and Rosie were made a little nervous by this, especially as the light was fading even though it was only mid-afternoon.

Rosie patted her dog. ‘You’re ready to go home now, aren’t you, eh?’ She rubbed his ear; he liked that. It seemed to calm him.

Suddenly he was up on his feet again and outside, going crazy, running round and round, and barking for all he was worth.

Harry went to him outside the shelter. ‘What is it, boy? Is there someone out there?’ He decided to go to look beyond the ridge. ‘Go back to Rosie!’ he ordered Barney, pointing. ‘Stay with Rosie.’ And as always, Barney set about his duty.

While Barney went back inside Harry went to the edge of the ridge. Staring down, he could see little through the swathes of wild growth and trees.

‘I don’t know what Barney was getting excited about,’ he went to tell Rosie. ‘I can’t see anyone or anything moving down there.’

Increasingly anxious, Rosie went out to look, too, but Harry inched her back from the edge. ‘It could crumble away beneath our weight and take us both with it.’ He could see other places where exactly that had happened. ‘Go back inside the shelter, Rosie. I’ll keep a watch out.’

‘Do you think we should try and make our way down?’ Rosie asked.

‘I reckon we might have to – when you’re rested, though, Rosie. It won’t be as straightforward going down as it is climbing up, but if Dad’s on his way there’ll be two of us to help you down. He did say he would come looking for us after he got Mum home. And just now, with Barney getting all excited, I’m wondering if he might have caught a sight of him.’

Rosie suddenly grabbed hold of him. ‘Hey! Did you hear that?’

Harry listened and then he heard it and was so relieved that he danced on the spot. ‘It’s Dad!’ He knew his father’s voice and he’d heard his own name.

Now Barney was beside him, chasing his tail and barking for all he was worth, and Harry thought that if he’d been a dog, he’d have been doing exactly the same. ‘Oh, Dad, you kept your promise. Thank you, thank you! I knew he’d find us. Look, Rosie, he’s there.’ Close to tears of relief, he yelled back, ‘Dad! Dad, we’re up here. Look up … we can see you now.’

Like two excited children, they jumped up and down, yelling and shouting, and Harry was whistling.

Patrick yelled up, ‘I can see you now … but for God’s sake get back from the edge!’

While Rosie duly stepped back, Harry gingerly inched down to where Patrick was about to climb up, along some fallen trees. When he was near enough, he grabbed his father’s hand and pulled him up.

‘Oh, Dad!’ He threw his arms about his father’s neck. ‘Are we glad to see you!’

Barney thought the same as he jumped up and licked Patrick’s sweaty face with his long, wet, pink tongue.

‘Get off, you dopey mutt!’

Patrick laughed with relief at having found them … even Barney, with his bad breath and sloppy drivel.

For the next few minutes, the hill tops echoed with the sound of laughter as they hugged each other, and Rosie gave Patrick a grateful kiss.

‘Harry promised me you’d find us. Oh, thank you so much. The thing is, I lost my shoe when I climbed up to here, and Harry said it would be difficult for me to climb back down without it. But he said you’d find us and you did.’ By now she was crying in his arms, and Patrick was slightly embarrassed.

‘Hey, that’s enough o’ the bawling!’ he told her sternly. ‘I’m glad to have found you an’ all, but we have to get down before it gets dark.’

Harry showed him where they had been resting. ‘I found Rosie here, but I was worried about getting her down, especially with one shoe missing and so many obstacles to mar our descent. So we decided to wait just a little longer and see if you might find us.’

Patrick was also greatly relieved. ‘You did right, son.’

Addressing Rosie, he asked kindly, ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance we could find your shoe, is there, sweetheart?’

‘I don’t know,’ Rosie replied. ‘It came off when I was climbing up here. My foot got caught in a split trunk on the ground and the shoe went tumbling down the hillside, and then I couldn’t see where it landed.’

Patrick assured her that they would get her down, ‘… one way or another, even if we have to take it in turns giving you a piggyback.’

When Harry stared at him in disbelief, Patrick chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, even I would never attempt such a foolhardy thing. But one way or another, we’ll need to make sure that Rosie has both her feet protected as we make our way down.’

‘How will we do that, d’you think?’ Harry wondered.

‘I’m not altogether sure just yet, but let me catch my breath and then we’ll need to set off soon to catch the last of the daylight.’

Looking beyond them, he saw the natural shelter, which was obviously made when a huge rock came away and, from what Patrick could deduce, took a couple of trees down with it. ‘So you’ve been waiting in there, have you?’

‘Yes, Dad. It seemed the right thing to do, in the circumstances.’

Patrick nodded. ‘You did right, son. At least you’re both safe.’

When he handed Rosie the water bottle, it was as though he had given her a fortune. After taking a sip of the cool water, she handed it to Harry, who was immensely thankful, though careful to save most of what little remained for the trek down. ‘So, Dad, we’re ready when you are. But what do we do about Rosie’s shoe?’

Patrick had been thinking about that. ‘Well, one thing’s for sure, she cannot try climbing down without it.’

He looked at Harry, then he looked at Rosie, and he realised that neither of the ideas he had had would ever work.

‘Let me see!’ He thought and thought, and then he had another idea.

He stripped off his jacket, then removed his shirt and gave it to Harry, before replacing his jacket over his vest. ‘Here, you tear the sleeves off my shirt.’ He handed the shirt to Harry. ‘I’ll not be a minute.’

Harry was puzzled. ‘The shirt won’t give her foot any protection, Dad.’

Patrick simply waved his hand to acknowledge he’d heard as he went along the hillside. ‘Just do as I ask, there’s a good chap,’ he called as he went out of sight.

Harry tore the two sleeves off. ‘I can’t imagine what he has in mind,’ he muttered to himself. ‘The sharp stones and such will tear this to pieces.’

Within minutes, Patrick was back again, carrying a selection of gathered materials in his arms. ‘Come on then, Rosie.’ He called her to the shelter, where the two of them sat on the ground opposite each other.

Fascinated to see what was happening, Harry followed.

He watched, curious, as his father unfolded the bulky parcel he’d been carrying. Then Patrick gently stripped the sock from Rosie’s sore foot and set about wiping the foot clean with his hands, thereby ensuring that there was nothing sharp or rough to irritate the sole of her foot. Next he began the fiddly operation.

First, he spread out two big leaves that he had snapped from a tree. Then he flattened and shaped two pieces of thick, pliable bark taken from another tree.

He replaced Rosie’s sock, making sure it was comfortable all the way round, and then he cleverly wrapped the large leaves gently round and round her foot, shaping the leaves to her foot as well as he could so the makeshift shoe would be as comfortable as possible.

‘Keep the leaves tight in place, Rosie,’ he instructed, while holding out his hand for Harry to give him back the two sleeves which he’d torn from the shirt. ‘We don’t want crinkles or pleats.’

Keeping the thick layer of bark and the leaves nice and flat to her foot, Rosie watched as Patrick very carefully slid one sleeve over the entire foot, going back and forth to layer it as much as the length of material would allow.

He then did the same with the other sleeve until the bark, the leaves and the shirtsleeves somehow drew together, looking like a big, well-padded, clumpy foot, secured with some string from his pocket.

‘Stand up, Rosie,’ he told her, ‘but be careful, because it will feel a bit thick and funny at first.’

Harry came to help her, and when she was standing she laughed out loud. ‘You’re right!’ she chuckled. ‘It feels ten times bigger than my other foot.’

‘Right, see if you can take a step, but be careful. Don’t worry, Harry will hold onto you.’ Although he had done everything he could, Patrick was still anxious.

Rosie, however, was thrilled. ‘Oh, Uncle Patrick, it’s all right. It’s nice and tight, and the sole feels really thick and secure. I can walk on it like a proper shoe, only bigger. And I can’t feel anything hurting anywhere.’

‘That’s good!’ Patrick felt just a little proud of himself. ‘I’ve no doubt your foot might feel twice its size, but trust me, Rosie, it will work fine. It seems like a hundred years since I was in the Boy Scouts, but they taught us some good stuff, and no mistake!’

‘Well, I’m pleased they did.’ Rosie was putting all her trust in him.

‘Thank you, Rosie. Now, you need to concentrate. Try walking a short distance on your own … gently now.’

With Harry hovering close by to catch her if she fell, Rosie took a few, careful steps. ‘It’s so funny … feels like I’m lopsided,’ she smiled, ‘but my foot is comfortable. There’s nothing hurting me.’

The only thing hurting her was the crippling knowledge that her darling father was dead. She would never forget him, or stop loving him, and would forever wish he was still here with her.

Tears threatened, but she choked them back. Now was not the time, nor this the place. And she had something else on her mind: certain things she had seen and heard, that she found hard to understand.

Before the three of them set off, Patrick put what remained of his shirt to good use, leaving him with just his jacket and vest for protection in the chilly November afternoon.

He ripped, twisted and knotted the remnants of his shirt until it resembled a crude rope. One end he tied about Rosie’s waist, and the other end he kept tight in his fist.

‘Right! So now we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.’ Nevertheless, he remained wary. ‘We need to go carefully, taking our time, with Harry in front of you and me behind. The two of us will be there if you stumble and we’ll have you sandwiched between us. What do you think, Rosie? Are you ready to do it?’

‘Yes, Uncle Patrick.’ Rosie was eager to be off. ‘I’m ready.’

Even Barney shouted his approval before winding his wary way down the slope, instinctively seeking out the flat patches of firm surface. Occasionally wrong-footed, he tripped and slid but slowly continued to go forward. As did the others, carefully following behind.