Please Release Me (7 page)

The bald stairs led up to a rectangle of daylight. Grace tramped up them, like a prisoner being taken to execution. Did she really want to do this? Perhaps it was just a matter of adjusting her expectations so that she was happy with her rut. After all, there was nothing WRONG with her life as it had been. What had all this fuss about change really brought to her? Not a lot. She stopped, a few steps from the top.

‘Not having second thoughts, are you Grace?’ an amused voice said from behind her. This woman had clearly seen it all before. ‘Don’t worry, everyone feels nervous. It’s healthy. You’ll be fine. We’ll take very good care of you.’

If she went back now, what would she say to people? She was sure most would understand, but they would think she was a wuss and couldn’t handle the pressure. They’d be right, but that still didn’t mean she wanted to hear it. Margaret would never let her live it down. Besides, how could she face Peter again? Looking over her shoulder, she could see the woman smiling encouragingly at her. So she took a deep breath and stepped out into the light.

The first thing that hit was the wind. It whooshed around her head and pressed clothes against her body. She felt as though she were swaying. She grabbed hold of a railing, hoping it wasn’t in fact the building swaying. Logic told her it wasn’t tall enough for that. Panic told her otherwise.

There were three men at the top of the platform. Two of them were looking over the side watching the previous person go down the side.

‘This is Grace,’ the woman hollered above the wind. The third man nodded. He gave her a twinkly smile from under his hard hat and Grace warmed to him immediately.

‘I’m just going to check your harness.’ He tugged and checked buckles and gave her the thumbs up. ‘Shake your head for me?’

She shook her head, and he touched the helmet. ‘Nice and snug. Good.’

There was a cheer from below. The other two men turned around. ‘He’s down,’ one said. ‘Next please.’

‘That’s you love,’ He guided her hand and helped her step towards the small platform that had been rigged up for the abseil ‘Let’s get you hooked up.’

Grace’s pulse pounded, she could feel the heat rising in her face. ‘I’m scared,’ she said.

He looked up. ‘Now, take your time and go slow. Sit back in your harness. Focus on your hands. Keep it controlled and you’ll be fine.’ He gave her another smile.

The men helped her step over the low railing and stand with her back to the drop. She could feel the tug of the empty space behind her. She tried to focus on what the man was saying. It was hard to hear above the blood roar in her ears. She gulped and leaned back as she was told. For a split second she thought her heart stopped. The rope held her, sitting on nothing. She leaned further. Panic swirled. She couldn’t do this.

From somewhere behind the chaos in her mind, she recalled Peter saying. ‘Focus on your hands.’ She opened her eyes and glared at her gloved hands clutching the abseil rope.

‘Step back, like you’re backing away from something. That’s it.’

Concentrating hard, she did this. Step, by step, by step, for what seemed like forever. A bird flew past, making her jump. The movement dislodged the thick plait of hair that she’d tucked into her shirt to keep out of the way. Her hair fell behind her, dragging her head back momentarily. She turned her head and saw the enormous drop behind her. It was only split second, but it was enough for her to misplace her feet. Panic burned through her stomach. She twisted to the side and hit the building side on. Shit. Focus. Focus.

She swung herself back, trying to work out how to steady herself with gravity behind her rather than below. She got purchase with one foot and bent her knees to stop herself swinging round. Then she was squatting on the side of a building. Above her she could see heads peering down. Someone clipped on and prepared to follow her.

She slowly extended her legs, stable now and resumed her descent, concentrating fiercely on keeping her movements smooth and steady. She had no idea how long she went on like that.

‘Nearly there,’ said a voice.

She turned her head to see the top of someone’s hard hat. Immediately, she looked down. The ground was blessedly close. A hand touched her back. She reached down with her foot and made contact with the ground. Gratefully, she got into a standing position and stood stock still while someone unclipped her and congratulated her. She was dimly aware of applause.

Grace resisted the urge to throw herself on the ground and kiss it.

Relief flushed through her veins, exhilarating and exhausting. She took a few steps away to where she could see people coming towards her. Suddenly the world was spinning and she folded over gently and ended up sitting on the ground. Everything narrowed until she could only make out a small space in front of her. Faint. She was going to faint. How embarrassing. She drew her knees up and stuck her head between them. Couldn’t faint now. Not now she’d actually made it down.

‘You okay love?’ A voice came from far away. ‘Can we have some help here please!’

The tightening in her ribs brought with it the familiar fear that she was having a heart attack. The thought ‘who will look after Mum?’ was swiftly followed by the realisation that no one needed her now. If she were to die in a humiliating heap at the bottom of the building, there was no one left to care.

She opened her eyes and focused on her hands, which were gripping her knees. This wasn’t a heart attack. This was an anxiety attack. It was only adrenaline. She knew how to deal with that. She released her grip on her knees and clenched her fists hard, as hard as she could. She could feel the tendons straining in her wrists. She clenched until she could feel the pain in her forearms. And release. The sudden release seemed to scatter the panic through her fingertips. The roar in her ears lessened, only a little, but enough to remind her how to control it. She concentrated on breathing. Someone put a paper bag in front of her face. Good. Hands gently lowered her back until she was lying down.

It took her a few minutes for her anxiety to recede. When her vision cleared, she realised there were people clustered around her. They were in the process of rolling her into the recovery position. Peter was holding the paper bag over her nose. She reached up and pushed it away.

‘Don’t sit up until you’re comfortable,’ said a woman in a St John’s ambulance uniform. ‘Take it easy.’

She said, ‘I’m okay,’ and immediately realised she wasn’t fooling anyone. She lifted up a hand. It trembled. ‘A bit shaky.’ She laid her head back. The roar in her ears was dying down now and she could breathe normally, more or less. The anxiety attack would ebb away in a few minutes, but after it she would be completely drained. She needed to get home before the dizziness hit.

She took a deep breath. ‘I’m okay. Really, I am.’ She pushed herself into a sitting position, ignoring the attempts to keep her lying down. ‘It’s just an anxiety attack.’

‘You have anxiety attacks?’ Peter said quietly. ‘Why didn’t you tell someone?’

There had been some paperwork to sign at the start. Vertigo, mental illness, that sort of thing. Bugger. She’d forgotten about the anxiety. ‘I haven’t had one in ages. I weaned off the drugs ages ago. I didn’t think to mention it. Sorry.’

There was some concern from the other two. She could still feel her pulse in her ears. ‘I would really like to go home, please.’

‘Maybe we could get you a drink?’ said the first aider, taking Grace’s wrist in her fingers and eyeing her watch. ‘You’re getting some colour back in your face now.’

‘Yes,’ said Grace.

‘I’ll get it.’ Harry shot off.

By the time he returned with a KitKat and two cups of squash, Grace was feeling a lot steadier. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean for there to be so much fuss.’

‘No problem at all,’ said the first aider. ‘Are you feeling better now?’

‘Yes thanks. I’ll be fine. This happens sometimes. I’ll be all right now.’ Grace smiled.

It took a bit of persuading to get the first aider to leave. The two men watched her as she finished the second cup of squash. ‘Stop it,’ she said. ‘It’s embarrassing enough being all shaky without you two staring at me.’

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ said Harry. ‘I feel terrible. I pushed you to do it and you said you were afraid of heights.’

‘Don’t. No need to feel bad. I’m a big girl. I could have ducked out of it.’

‘But you didn’t,’ said Peter. ‘And you did the abseil brilliantly. It’s a tall building. You did great.’

She looked past him to the building where some other poor sod was coming down the ropes. It was tall. Massive, in fact. And she’d done it. The most terrifying thing she could have thought of and she’d done it. ‘I did, didn’t I?’

‘You certainly did,’ said Harry. ‘I’m so proud of you, I could burst.’

‘Me too,’ said Peter softly.

She caught his gaze briefly and felt warmer instantly.

‘I think we should get you home,’ said Peter.

‘How are you getting back? You can’t drive in this state,’ said Harry.

‘I’ll give her a lift.’

Harry’s gaze flitted from Grace to Peter and back again. He gave her a knowing smirk. ‘Oh. Right. Well, I’ll see you kids later, I guess.’

Grace didn’t have the energy to glare at Harry for stirring so obviously. Thankfully, Peter didn’t seem to notice. He helped her to her feet. It was strange having someone to lean on. She took the support gratefully.

In the car, Grace slumped in her seat as the last of the adrenaline drained away, leaving her hollowed with exhaustion. The roar in her ears had subsided now, but her vision was still clouded at the edges, like she was looking down a microscope. She focused on taking deep breaths to keep on top of the nausea that was sweeping the other way.

Peter said nothing, but he kept casting anxious glances at her. Finally, when she felt better, she turned her head to the side and said, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be back on my feet in a bit.’

‘Does this happen often?’ He was looking at the road.

‘No.’ She would have shaken her head, but the effort seemed like too much. ‘It used to, when Mum first fell ill. Dad was still alive then and I had to take care of them both. The GP put me on anti-anxiety drugs, but I hadn’t had an attack in ages, so I weaned off them about a year ago. I haven’t had an attack since.’

‘You should have mentioned it.’

‘I know. It’s been so long, I forgot.’ When he didn’t say anything, she added, ‘I’d convinced myself it wasn’t a problem anymore.’

‘I can understand that.’ He turned his head to give a small smile. ‘You sound a bit better. I was starting to really worry.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He nodded, as though acknowledging her apology.

After a few minutes of silence, he said, ‘I guess moving out of your comfort zone wasn’t such a great idea.’

Grace managed a small laugh. ‘I was so far from my comfort zone, I think it had disappeared over the horizon. I was petrified. If it wasn’t for the safety rope, I’d have just fallen off the wall.’

‘That’s why you have a safety harness,’ said Peter. ‘You know, for safety.’

She managed a weak chuckle, quickly followed by a sigh. ‘It’s just embarrassing. I hate that I flaked out when other people were around.’

‘You mean you’d rather flake out when there’s no one to help?’

‘Wouldn’t you?’

Peter gave this more thought than she’d expected. The silence was pulling at her, forcing her to say more. ‘When my father fell ill and my mum asked for help, it was okay. There were two of us. I was supporting her. Then slowly the balance tipped and when she fell ill, suddenly there was just me looking after them both. Oh, there was lots of help – carers, respite, whatever, but it was still my responsibility to make sure they got to their appointments and their prescriptions got picked up. All that sort of thing. I got an extension on my PhD to finish writing up, which helped, but it was still a heck of a thing. When I finally got put on anti-depressants, I decided that if it didn’t kill me, it would make me stronger. Some days were awful and I wondered how on earth I’d get through it. Other days were fine. On those good days I felt almost invincible.’

Peter frowned. ‘Some might say that was a bit … bi-polar.’

‘They might. I don’t.’

There was more silence. Grace watched the clouds through the windscreen. It was almost hypnotic.

‘Are you glad you did it?’ Peter said, suddenly. ‘The abseil, I mean.’

Was she? She looked at her hands which were still unsteady. She felt clammy and exhausted and dizzy. She was glad it was over, but was she glad she’d done it in the first place? ‘I guess so. I raised a lot of money for the hospice and … yes. I’m glad.’

By the time the car pulled up outside Grace’s house, she was feeling better, but still weak. ‘Thank you,’ she said, leaning forward to pick up her bag, from the footwell. ‘I’m sorry to have caused so much bother.’

‘Are you sure you’re going to be okay? You still don’t look a hundred per cent.’ He pushed his glasses up a bit and peered at her.

‘I just need some sugar and a cup of tea. I’ll be okay.’

Peter nodded. ‘I’ll wait until you’ve got to the door.’

Grace grinned. ‘How old-fashioned.’

‘I’m just that sort of guy.’

It sounded like the end of a date, Grace thought. Embarrassed by the thought, she said ‘I guess I’ll see you around at the hospice. Thanks again.’

‘No problem. It was … interesting.’

She smiled and got out of the car. Despite her assurances to Peter, she still felt woozy. She really, really needed to start carrying sweets in her bag again. She managed to get through the gate at a fairly normal pace, focusing intently on her destination, but she missed the doorstep and stumbled, landing with her hands against the door. There were footsteps and Peter was beside her.

‘I think I should see you in,’ he said, taking her elbow.

Grace didn’t argue. Despite her light-headedness, she was suddenly very aware of how close he was. She could smell his aftershave and a hint of sweat. His hand on her arm felt hot. If she closed her eyes now she could lean against him and pretend he was always there for her. She took a deep breath and forced herself to concentrate on opening her own front door. She felt an irrational spark of relief when Peter stepped in behind her.