Shopaholic And Sister Part 43

Deep down I feel a spasm of fear, which I ignore. It'll be fine. The important thing is to think positive. I'll just keep climbing. I can do it!

No, I can't, comes a small voice inside.

Stop it. Think positive. I can do anything I set my mind to.

My legs are all shaky, but somehow I force myself to my feet, wincing in pain as my shoes dig into my blisters again. Right. Just keep going. I'll get to the top-and maybe that's where the welcoming party is. And those hot drinks they were talking about. Yes. It'll be fine- Suddenly there's a distant rumble of thunder. Oh G.o.d. Please, no. I look up, and the sky has darkened to a menacing gray.

A raindrop hits me in the eye. Then another.

I swallow, trying to stay calm. But inside I'm a mush of panic. What do I do now? Do I keep going up? Do I go down?

"Hi!" I call out. "Is anyone there?" My voice echoes round the rocks, but there's no reply.

More raindrops land on my head.

I don't have anything waterproof. I look around the stark landscape, hollow with fear. What if I can't get down? What if I'm stuck up here in a storm? I was so desperate to tell Jess we were sisters. Now I just feel like a fool. I should have waited. Luke's right. Why can't I wait for anything in life? It's all my own fault.

There's another distant rumble of thunder, and I flinch in fright. What if I get struck by lightning? I don't even know what the rules are for being outside in a storm. It's something like Stand under a tree. Or maybe Don't stand under a tree. But which? What if I get it wrong?

Suddenly, through my agitation, I'm aware of a kind of chirping noise. Is it . . . an animal?

Oh my G.o.d.

Oh my G.o.d. It's my mobile. There's a signal up here! There's a b.l.o.o.d.y signal!

With shaking fingers I unzip my Angel bag and grab my flas.h.i.+ng mobile. Weak with relief, I see the word luke on the little display. I jab frantically at the green b.u.t.ton.

"Luke!" I say. "It's Becky!"

"Becky? Is anyone there?" The line is crackling, and he sounds all fuzzy and distant.

"Yes!" I shout, as raindrops start falling harder on my head. "Luke, it's me! I'm lost! I need help!"

"h.e.l.lo?" comes his puzzled voice again. "Can anyone hear me?"

"Yes! I can hear you! I'm here!" With no warning, tears start streaming down my face. "I'm stuck on this awful mountain and I don't know what to do. Luke, I'm so sorry-"

"The line's not working," I can hear him saying to someone else. "I can't hear a b.l.o.o.d.y thing."

"Luke!" I yell. "Luke, I'm here! I'm right here! Don't go!"

I bang the phone frantically, and the words battery low flash at me.

"h.e.l.lo?" comes Luke's voice again. "Becky?"

"Luke, please hear me!" I cry in desperation. "Please hear me! Please . . ."

But the light in the little screen is already fading. And a moment later the phone goes dead.

He's gone.

I look around the desolate mountainside. I have never felt more alone in my life.

A gust of wind blows a flurry of rain into my face and I realize I can't just stand here. I have to find some kind of shelter.

About six feet above me is a kind of ledge sticking out, with a cl.u.s.ter of rocks on top. One of them has an overhanging bit which maybe I can crouch under. The mud is all wet and slithery, but I dig in my heels and grab on to anything I can find, and somehow scrabble up there, grazing my other knee as I climb.

G.o.d, it's quite high up. I feel a bit precarious. But never mind. If I don't look down I'll be fine. I firmly take hold of the overhanging bit of rock and am trying to edge underneath without slipping over . . . when suddenly I glimpse a flash of yellow.

Bright yellow. Human-waterproof-climbing-gear yellow. I don't believe it. There's someone else on the mountain. There's someone else! I'm saved!

"Hi!" I yell. "Halloo! Over here!" But my voice is carried the wrong way by the wind and the rain.

I can't see whoever it is properly, because the overhanging rock is in the way. Very slowly and cautiously I maneuver myself around the lip of the ledge until I have a better view. And then I see her clearly.

It's Jess.

She's on the slope below, wearing a yellow cagoule and a backpack. Some kind of rope thing is attaching her to the mountainside, and she's digging carefully at a rock with a metal knife.

"Jess!" I shout, but my voice sounds hardly bigger than a squeak above the wind. "Jess! Jess!"

At last her head turns-and her whole face contracts in shock.

"Jesus Christ! Becky! What the h.e.l.l are you doing up here?"

"I came to tell you we're sisters!" I shout back, but I'm not sure if she can hear me through the buffeting rain. "Sisters!" I yell again, taking a step forward, cupping my mouth. "We're SISTERS!"

"Stop!" shouts Jess. "That ledge is dangerous!"

"I'm fine!"

"Get back!"

"I'm OK, honestly," I call. But she looks so alarmed, I obediently take a step back, away from the edge.

And that's when my shoe slips on the wet mud.

I can't regain my balance and I scrabble frantically at the rocks, trying to hold on to anything, trying to save myself, but everything's too slippery. My fingers close round the roots of a shrub, but they're wet with the rain. I can't get a proper grip.

"Becky!" I hear Jess's scream as the roots slip out of my desperate fingers. "Becky!"

Then I'm falling in a rush of terror, and all I can hear is screaming, and I have a glimpse of sky and then something thwacks my head, hard.

And then everything goes black.

Maida Vale Chronicle

Sat.u.r.day, 7 June 2003

FEARS FOR.

MISSING GIRL.

Fears were growing last night for the safety of Maida Vale resident Rebecca Brandon, 27. Mrs Brandon (nee Bloomwood) disappeared on Thursday from the luxury flat she shares with husband Luke Brandon and has not been seen or heard from since. The alarm was raised by Mrs Brandon's friend Susan Cleath-Stuart, who arrived in London for a surprise visit.SHOPPINGCCTV footage shows Mrs Brandon in local shop Anna's Delicatessen, shortly before her disappearance, apparently agitated. "She just dropped her shopping and left," said shop a.s.sistant Marie Fuller. "She didn't buy anything."CHAOSThere were scenes of chaos aboard the Mind Body Spirit cruise s.h.i.+p currently touring the Mediterranean as Mrs Brandon's parents, Graham and Jane Bloomwood, insisted the boat be turned around. "You can stuff b.l.o.o.d.y tranquility!" a hysterical Mrs Bloomwood was reported as shouting. "My daughter's missing!"STORMSMeanwhile, storms have prevented Mrs Brandon's husband, Luke Brandon, from leaving Cyprus, where he has been working. He was said yesterday to be "desperately worried" and in close contact with police. His business a.s.sociate, Nathan Temple, has issued a reward for information leading to the recovery of Mrs Brandon. He commented yesterday, "If anyone harms a hair of that young lady's head I will personally break all their bones. Twice." Mr Temple was convicted in 1984 for grievous bodily harm.

Twenty-two.

OW.

Ouuuch.

G.o.d, my head is in agony. Oww. And my ankle's throbbing, and I feel like I might be sick any moment, and something sharp is pressing into my shoulder. . . . Where am I, anyway? Why do I feel so weird?

With a huge struggle I manage to open my eyes and get a flash of blue before they close again. Hmm. Blue. Makes no sense. Maybe I'll go to sleep.

"Becky? Beckeee!" A voice is calling me from a huge distance. "Wake up!"

I force my eyes open again and find myself looking at a face. A blurred face against a blue background.

Jess.

Blimey, it's Jess. And she's all anxious-looking. Maybe she lost something. A rock. That must be it.

"Can you see me?" she says urgently. "Can you count my fingers?"

She thrusts her hand in front of me and I peer at it woozily. Boy, that girl needs a manicure.

"How many fingers?" she keeps saying. "Can you see? Can you hear me?"

Oh, right. Yes.

"Er . . . three?"

Jess stares at me for a moment, then sinks back on her knees and buries her head in her hands. "Thank G.o.d. Thank G.o.d."

She's shaking. Why on earth is she shaking?

And then, like a tidal wave, it all comes back to me. The walk. The storm. Falling. Cras.h.i.+ng down the mountainside. Quickly I try to block it out of my mind, but to my astonishment, tears start to seep out the sides of my eyes and drip down into my ears.

OK. Stop it. I'm safe now. I'm on the ground. I . . . think. To be honest, I can't quite work out where I am. I peer at the bright blue background, but it still makes zero sense. I'd say heaven-except Jess didn't fall too, did she?

"Where am I?" I manage, and Jess raises her head. She still looks white and shaken.

"My tent," she says. "I always carry a tent in my backpack. I didn't dare move you, so I put it up around you."

A tent! Now, that is just so clever. Why don't I take a tent everywhere? I'll start tomorrow. Yes. A little tiny tent that I could keep in my handbag.

The only thing is, it's a bit uncomfortable here on the ground. Maybe I'll get up and stretch my legs. I try to rise, and everything goes black and swirly.

"Oh G.o.d," I say feebly, and sink back down again.

"Don't try to get up!" Jess says in alarm. "You had a terrible fall. I thought . . ." She breaks off and exhales sharply. "Anyway, don't get up."

Gradually I'm becoming aware of the rest of my body. My hands are all raw and sc.r.a.ped. With a huge effort I raise my head and glimpse my legs, all b.l.o.o.d.y with cuts. I can feel a bruise on my cheek, and I lift my hand to it.

"Ow! Is my face bleeding?"

"You're a mess," Jess says bluntly. "Does anything hurt really badly?"

"My ankle. The left one. It's agony."

Jess starts prodding it and I bite my lip, trying not to cry out.

"I think it's sprained," she says at last. "I'll strap you up." She switches on a torch and fastens it to a steel pole, then reaches into a tiny tin. She produces a length of bandage-type stuff and starts winding it expertly round my ankle. "Becky, what the h.e.l.l were you doing up there, anyway?"

"I . . . I came to find you." Bits of the jigsaw are reappearing in my brain. "I was doing the sponsored endurance hike."

Jess looks gobsmacked.

"But this wasn't the hike route! I went off the trail. The hike route was much lower. Didn't you follow the markers?"

"Markers?" I look at her blankly.

"G.o.d, you have no b.l.o.o.d.y idea about hiking, do you?" she says in agitation. "You shouldn't have been up there! It's dangerous!"

"So why were you there?" I retort, wincing as she bandages me more and more tightly. "What you were doing looked pretty dangerous to me."

Jess's face closes up.