Page 39 of Rescuing Rosie
‘Not at all foolish,’ he said gently. He raised a hand as if to touch her, but it switched direction, settling on Wainwright’s head. ‘Mountaintops are the best thinking spots in the world. Remember how we said that before? On our rock?’
She wiped her eyes and sniffed. ‘The houses and cars and people, they all look so tiny, and everything’s put in perspective and you realise what’sreallyimportant.’
‘I understand.’ His low, soothing voice was like a life belt, and she took a deep breath in as she felt herself calming.
‘Ant – could I possibly have a hug?’
Now he didn’t hesitate, putting an arm round her, and she leaned against him. As they sat in silence, Rosie’s remaining distress floated up and away, into the dark, invisible reaches of the cavern.
‘You must have been scared,’ he said, ‘lost, and caught in the storm. But you did everything right. And it’s easy to take the wrong path in the mist.’
‘Did I?’ she said.
‘You missed the turnoff to the road.’
‘Oh, right. I wasn’t sure, when I came to another fork. A runner told me to look out for a fork, but only one.’
‘Mick,’ said Ant. ‘He’s a friend. I met him on the way up; he said he’d passed you. This path you ended up on comes out south of Rydal, about an hour’s walk from Grasmere.’
Rosie grimaced. ‘I wouldn’t have enjoyed that, even without the ankle situation.’ She thought for a moment. ‘But Ant, if you thought I was on the other path, how come you found me?’
With his free hand, he fished in his rain-jacket pocket and pulled out one of Rosie’s Moomin socks. ‘You left them in the shop,’ he said, smiling. ‘Wainwright picked up your scent.’
‘Oh, that’s amazing! Dogs can do that?’
‘Special dogs can,’ he said. ‘He’s a mountain rescue dog. And the team’s on alert. I’ll contact them as soon as we’ve assessed your injury; you might need to be stretchered down.’
‘Oh god,’ said Rosie. ‘Mountain Rescue? How embarrassing. What will they think of me?’
‘Well – I’m the leader,’ he said, ‘and I think you’re doing great.’ He gave her a little squeeze.
Her mouth dropped open. ‘You’re the mountain rescue leader?’
‘I am. But believe me, Rosie, compared to a lot of the people we rescue, you’ve coped brilliantly,andyou were adequately prepared.’
‘Thanks to you.’
He lifted his arm from her shoulder, and she felt its absence. He took a packet of dog treats from his pocket and gave a few to Wainwright, then turned to look at her. ‘Dale raised the alert,’ he said, his eyes on hers. ‘He phoned me when you didn’t turn up. Ashley apparently gave him a bollocking, for leaving the mountain without you.’
‘Dale’s the reason I went off by myself,’ she said, not looking away. ‘But they didn’t really need me – I’d done my bit. Plus I wanted to be able to tell Ashley I’d reached the top.’ She smiled. ‘And you, I think, Mr Hill. You might say I had a point to prove.’
He gave a low chuckle. ‘I knew you’d love the fells, when we tested your boots. You got it immediately. But I wanted you to understand the dangers, too.’ His smile faded, and helooked away, out across the inky water. ‘Often that’s down to the weather, but sometimes it’s just bad luck. An unlucky trip, a slip on a wet rock …’
‘A clap of thunder amplified by a giant cave? I jumped out of my skin and lost my footing; that’s how I twisted my ankle.’
He produced a walkie talkie, and it crackled with static as he turned it on. ‘It’s Ant. I’m at Rydal Cave – I’ve found her.’ There was a short reply which she didn’t catch. ‘Ankle injury, about to assess. Stand by.’ He switched it off. ‘Poor reception,’ he said, ‘because of the conditions and the cave. I’ll call in again when we’re on our way.’ He paused. ‘That was Dale. He’s on the rescue team too. He won’t be happy till you’re back, safe and sound.’
Suddenly, it felt vital to Rosie that Ant understood. ‘I won’t be seeing him when I’m back. I’ll be straight into a hot bath, if I can manoeuvre myself in.’
He nodded, and she wasn’t sure if he’d got the true meaning of her reply. This man was difficult to read.
‘Okay,’ he said, ‘let’s take a look.’ He moved beside her foot. ‘I’m going to remove your boot. Yell out if it hurts, and I’ll stop.’
His touch was so gentle, there was no need to yell out. He then took off her sock, and the cool, damp air soothed her foot. He slid a hand under her heel and examined the ankle. ‘That’s some nasty swelling,’ he said, ‘but it’s probably just a sprain.’
Ant rummaged in his backpack, brought out a first-aid kit and unwrapped a dressing. He placed her foot on his thigh, and she watched as he expertly wound the bandage, up and around her ankle and back in a figure of eight, several times before securing it with a fastener. Then he eased her sock back on – amazingly, it was dry.
‘Unless you’d prefer your Moomin sock?’
