‘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.
‘If you want a bigger jump, go somewhere else tomorrow, somewhere safe.’
I won’t get a chance tomorrow, I’ll have the kids.
I throw a cursory glance at Ed, who is deep in sleep, and then begin climbing the ladder. Once on Lovers’ Leap, I follow the ledge around to the right. I hold on to the rock and stretch my leg out, digging my fingers into the grooves of the rock face. It scrapes my hands and knees, but I push myself forward, finding safe footing. Above me hangs the higher ledge. The rock here is strong and there are plenty of footholds for me to be able to scale upwards without much trouble. My throat is dry, my legs are bleeding a little, but the adrenaline is pushing me forward; the need to feel that freedom – even for a few more seconds – is tempting me, calling out my name. I heave myself onto the ledge and roll onto my back. My breath is coming out in short sharp gasps and I lie here for a few minutes, listening to the silence. But the silence is cracked open by Ed’s voice and I sit up, frustrated that he has interrupted my moment. I stand up and walk towards the edge; it is higher than I first thought. Ed’s hands are waving at either side.
‘Come on, Jen . . . enough is enough.’ I turn my head and watch as Kerry reaches her hand forward towards me, beckoning me away from the brink.
‘You’re not here,’ I say and turn away from her, my feet stepping into air, giving me my freedom back.
Chapter Eighteen
Ed
I can’t believe what I am seeing. She is standing on the edge of the cliff; her head is tilted back and she is smiling. Even from here I can see that she is at peace. I’m trying to decide on a course of action. I know I haven’t got time to get to her but that doesn’t stop me from looking at the ladder; I know I can’t catch her but it doesn’t stop me from thinking that I can, and it doesn’t stop me from calling her name, even though I know she is going to jump.
My eyes scour the water to where she will land. Sickness rises in my throat as I notice that the blue of the water holds a hidden shadow beneath the surface; the image of the iceberg from Titanic pushes into my thoughts. ‘Jen!’ I shout, but I know it’s too late; she is stepping forward. I jump into the water. It’s the same action that just an hour ago had felt exhilarating, but this time the water feels heavy and I battle against it, forcing my muscles to work against the gravity and pushing myself to the surface in time to see her body crash into the pool. I don’t hear a thud, or a scream, but as my arms begin to slice through the water, I see the blood. And I see Jen floating, arms outstretched, face down.
Her name is caught in my throat as I pound through the water, my fingers grasping at her arm; she begins to kick, her legs sinking below the surface, her head erupting from the water with a huge gasp of air. I pull her into my arms, cupping her legs in my arms the way I hold Hailey when she has fallen asleep and needs to be carried to bed. Jen’s arms encircle my neck. I pull her body as close to mine as I can, our chests rising and falling quickly as we each catch our breath.
‘Where are you hurt?’ I ask frantically, scanning her face, expecting her skin to be pale, expecting to see the fear of death mirroring my own, but instead . . . she has never looked more alive.