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Michael G Kimber
Michael G Kimber
The Nightwriter
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End Of The Line
John looked gloomily over the parapet. It was early and what little light there was did not quite penetrate the depth of the ravine. Far below he could just make out the river, and the rocky banks.
It had come to this. He was going to jump, and all because of a woman!
He had met Sally some months earlier while on a walking holiday in the Lake District. They were both members of the Youth Hostel Association, though not quite youths anymore, but were avid walkers, with a particular fondness for the Cumbrian hills.
The weather had stayed fine so it had been a happy time for the twenty odd young people sharing the holiday: brilliant walks by day, and wonderful camaraderie in the evenings. Everybody enjoyed the magic of the scenery, the companionship, and paradoxically, the quiet and solitude.
None more than John and Sally, who felt at home on the high passes: at peace on the peaks. They were of course very fit; were interested in most sports, and were active, indeed accomplished, in many. He had a love of football and his solid, but athletic build, made him an ideal midfield player. Racquet sports came easily to him, as did cricket. She was as adept on the net-ball court as she was on the hockey field, and was more than useful at tennis. They shared (they were to discover) a love for the noble game of bowls.
Add to this the fact that they were both blessed with glorious good looks. She had the classic fair skin and hair in the Aryan mold, while his black hair and darker skin disclosed a touch of Italian blood in his ancestry.
With all these things going for them it was inevitable that they would notice each other, an notice each other they did. But for some reason they both seemed to be a little shy of making a move, even though they had joined in all the communal activities and games, and had found themselves in each others ‘space’ from time to time.
On the third night, after all the clearing up had been done following the evening meal, he spotted her sitting alone. She was inevitably a popular girl, and John knew that there would not be many opportunities, so he was not going to miss a chance like this.
“Can I get you a coffee or a tea?” he asked.
His heart leapt when she gave him a lovely smile “Thank you” she answered “a coffee please.”
She had a nice voice, easy to listen to, smooth and well modulated, but without the plums.
He hurried off as quick as he could, hoping upon hope that she would still be on her own when he returned with the coffee, and he was glad to find that his briskly muttered prayer had been answered.
“May I sit here for a while?” he asked, indicating a little stool at her side.
“That would be nice,” still smiling, such a smile that it lit up the room “we haven’t had chance to say ‘hello’ yet.”
Moving the stool so that he could face her, but not quite directly, and with just enough space so that she would not feel crowded, he knew he would have to be bold.
“No one has introduced us, so I guess I will have to do it myself; I’m John.”
“And I am Sally.” she answered, taking the hand he had offered, and not seeming to mind too much, that he kept hold of hers a little longer than he should have.
From that moment on their fate was sealed, and their destiny. An evening walk gave them the chance to touch and to hold, and to kiss. Before the holiday was over they were lovers, and in love. He simply adored her, and she him. It was not first love for either of them, but something more than either of them had ever known. Every sense was heightened, touch and smell, everything looked brighter, and even the wind was like music. It was as though their meeting had been preordained; that some other force was guiding them, even though they lived two hundred miles apart. It mattered not. The relationship and their love grew, and they met, in spite of the difficulties, every week.. They were extremely happy, but never-the-less, the time came when John decided that it was right to remove the one and only obstacle to complete happiness. Those two hundred miles!.
So he asked Sally to marry him.
It was lighter now; enough for John to see the river far below; the rocky banks and the steep cliffs at either side. Somehow it was even more foreboding. Standing now on the narrow ledge of the bridge, he looked down. Feeling unsteady, never at ease with heights, but gritting his teeth, knowing what he had to do.
There was no other way!
Why didn’t she just say no, when he had proposed?.. Why didn’t she just walk away? Why?
He took a look behind him before he jumped, perhaps hoping for some cowardly way to change his mind, but it was too late for that now.
“This is it then,” he said to himself, “no point putting it off.”
One last look before he closed his eyes and then, almost calmly, he went over the edge.
Was that her smiling face he saw as he disappeared from view? No matter now. There could be no going back.
“She didn’t have to push me this far.” he shouted as he fell, falling falling, gaining speed. “Why did she have to bring me to this?”
Falling falling, faster faster.
“She knows I can’t stand heights.”
Falling falling. No matter, for he knew that any moment now it would all be over.
“And just to prove I love her I’ve got to do this bloody bungee jump”
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