The third conclusion came to me as soon as I looked up Yosemite climbing on Google. It seemed the DNB was climbers’ shorthand for the Direct Northern Buttress of Yosemite’s Cathedral Rocks, a six-hundred-metre granite cliff described bluntly as ‘hard, with some scary loose flake in the middle’. The pictures looked absolutely terrifying to me, even without the scary loose flake. I decided that Anna had been exaggerating in order to frighten me off. Of course they hadn’t climbed that.
So I turned up at the climbing wall the following Wednesday evening and Luce seemed pleased to see me, in an underplayed, almost shy sort of way that I stored away for future contemplation. She introduced me to some of their friends, including Damien, Curtis and Owen, then to the club secretary, who gave me a questionnaire to fill in and signed me up. Anna pretty much ignored me.
It didn’t take long for me to realise that I was seriously out of my league. Apart from my lack of recent practice, my gear was all wrong, my thick-soled shoes clumsy and my shorts hampering my movements. As I struggled painfully up the easiest routes I watched the rest of them racing up ahead of me. The only good thing was that, clambering to keep up, struggling not to look like a total idiot, I didn’t have time to worry about my fear of heights, which had been a recurring problem on the school climbing camps.
After a while I collapsed, humiliated, on a bench. My arms and fingers had lost all strength and I was soaked in sweat. Luce came and sat beside me, looking as if she’d used up no energy at all.
‘Sorry,’ I panted. ‘Really am out of practice.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s often like that after a gap.’
‘But you’re absolutely brilliant.’ I couldn’t hide my astonishment. The others were good, but she made them look ponderous. Smooth and balletic in her movements, she had seemed weightless. ‘Did you really climb the DNB?’
She laughed. ‘Didn’t you believe us?’
‘It’s just … that’s pretty advanced, isn’t it? Maybe I should stick to statistics. I’ve brought those course notes, if you’re interested.’
She studied me. ‘But you won’t give up, will you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind some help with STAT 303, but this is …’ she looked up at the people hanging in space above us, ‘… it’s what I do.’
‘Right,’ I said, still waiting for the feeling to come back into my fingers. ‘No, no, of course I won’t give up. I’ll bring my proper gear next time. These shoes are hopeless.’
Later, in the changing room, I overheard a snatch of conversation from two blokes in the next aisle. One said, ‘… won’t see him again.’ I caught the words ‘bloody hopeless’ in the reply, and they both laughed. When they left I saw that it was Owen and Curtis.
5
A week after our meeting at Sammy’s Bar, Damien gave me a ring. He asked where I was living, and when I told him he said he’d call in at the hotel that evening after work for a chat.
He looked more composed that evening, in his expensive suit. I led him through to the bar and got us both a beer. He slipped off his jacket and dropped into an armchair.
‘Sorry I was so rushed last week,’ he said. ‘I must have seemed rude. I was just preoccupied. Aaagh …’ He stretched out in the seat. ‘Trouble with clients is you have to listen to all the crap they come out with. We didn’t get a chance to catch up. So how are things, now you’re back?’
I handed him his drink and told him about what I was doing at the hotel.
‘I remember you bringing us here,’ he said, looking around. ‘Lovely little place. As a matter of fact I’ve recommended it to several people since. Amazing it’s survived, though. The site must be worth a fortune. You’d have thought someone would have snapped it up by now. Your aunt’s well?’
‘Very. And so you’re really married, Damien.’
‘That’s right. Lauren. Wonderful girl, you must meet her. We’ll have you for dinner soon.’
‘Is she a lawyer too?’
‘Yes, and a very bright one. Much sharper than me.’
‘Same firm?’
‘No, she works down the street. I sometimes look out of my window and see her walking past and I think, how was I ever lucky enough to catch her?’
I laughed. ‘You were always good at that.’
He laughed at the compliment. ‘Oh, now, I was no Don Juan.’
‘I rather thought you were.’
‘What? I never pinched one of your girlfriends, did I?’
‘No, but I did wonder if you were after Luce at one point.’
‘Did you? No, I may have harboured lustful thoughts early on, before you came on the scene, but I decided she was too tricky for me. That’s got nothing to do with this business with Anna, has it?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Ah.’ He didn’t seem completely convinced. ‘Well, I do know how it is with Anna.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Oh, the dogged way she is when she gets some idea in her head. I gather this was her idea, wanting to get the police report?’
I made a noncommittal gesture.
‘Anna and I haven’t really kept in touch,’ he went on. ‘I was trying to remember if she came to our wedding, but Lauren says not. I can’t remember how I heard about her breakdown. Maybe Curtis or Owen …’
‘Breakdown?’
‘Mmm, two or three years ago. Didn’t you know? Perhaps a delayed reaction to what happened to Luce, I’m not sure. I’m guessing that’s what this is really all about, getting you on side to help her work things out.’
‘Was it serious, this breakdown?’
‘I think so. Not that she was hospitalised or anything. Least as far as I know … Ah!’
Mary had heard our voices and put her head around the door. She recognised Damien, giving him a warm smile, and he got to his feet and stretched out his arms.
‘Mary! How wonderful to see you again.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘I was just saying to Josh how it brought back so many memories coming here. I remember you made us all so welcome and gave us a fabulous lunch-roast lamb.’
‘Did I?’ She laughed, flattered by his charm.
‘And tell me,’ he went on, ‘how are you coping with Mr Chang?’
‘Mr Chang? From Hong Kong? Do you know him?’
‘He’s a client of ours. When he wanted to know where to stay in the city I told him he had to come here. I knew it would be perfect for him. Didn’t he tell you?’
‘Well, no. But he’s one of my regulars now, Damien. I should thank you. He’s such an interesting man.’
‘And very rich.’ Damien chuckled.
I poured Mary a glass of her favourite sauvignon blanc and she took it without shifting her eyes from Damien’s.
‘But I’m so very sorry about your friends, Owen and Curtis, Damien. You must be as devastated as Josh.’
‘Yes … But at least they died doing something they loved.’ I thought that sounded rather glib, and then he added, ‘It’s the people they left behind I feel most sad for, Curtis’s mum and dad are devastated, of course, and as for Owen’s family …’
‘Ah yes.’
‘I went to see them the other day, Suzi and the kids. It was Thomas’s birthday at the weekend, you know. Six. He kept talking about his daddy. Heartbreaking. I felt so inadequate, taking him a little present. What can you say?’
‘Oh, I know. And will they manage financially, now?’
‘I’m helping Suzi with that, negotiating with Owen’s employer and their super fund to get her the best possible deal.’