Colin Forbes - Precipice

'This could be dangerous.' Philip Cardon said as he felt the wheels of the Land Rover sliding in the mud.

'If you're nervous give me the wheel. I like to be in the driver's seat.' suggested Eve.

There was a challenging note in her tone which jarred on Philip. He switched off the engine and Eve, sitting beside him, lit a fresh cigarette from the one she had just smoked. It was night and they were high up in the Purbeck Hills, approaching the cliffs which dropped into the sea.

Philip thought that Dorset in February was hellish. For days it had rained nonstop and the lowland fields they had long ago left behind were lakes, swamps. They were driving along the deep ruts of a track which led up the spine of a high ridge. It was bitterly cold and Eve was buttoning up the collar of her camel-hair coat round her neck.

At this point they were sheltered from the wind. Philip found the silence was eerie, as though issuing a warning. The sky was clear and the moon cast an unsettling glow over the vast landscape to their right. Only a few yards from the track the ridge dropped in a steep slope to a small valley hemmed in by another slope on the far side. They had their first sight of the sea, of the grim coast stretching westward. Jagged capes projected into the sea which was rough. Surf-tipped mountainous waves rolled in endlessly.

'That must be Sterndale Manor down there.' Philip remarked.

At the base of the valley – little more than a wide gorge – stood an Elizabethan house, its chimneys rearing up. As he watched, lights came on and Philip took a monocular glass from his windcheater pocket, focused it.

'General Sterndale must have arrived back from our hotel with his son. Someone is closing all the shutters…' He watched as lights came on, vanishing again as more shutters were closed. 'It's like life being extinguished.' he mused.

'Now you're being morbid.' Eve chided him as she jumped to the ground, nearly slipped in the mud, grabbed the side of the vehicle.

'Watch it. The ground's like a marsh.'

He resumed watching the manor. He couldn't rid himself of a premonition that a tragedy was imminent. Must be the weird atmosphere up here, he told himself.

'He certainly locks himself in at night.' he observed.

'Well, you remember in the bar back at the Priory Hotel he said he was so isolated he turned it into a fortress at night.' Eve reminded him. 'Just the two of them inside that great house and the servant. Marchat. Funny name. Wonder what nationality it is.' She flashed the smile which had first attracted him when they'd met by chance at the Priory. 'Move over so I can take the wheel.'

'Get back where you were. I'm driving and that's it.'

'Be stubborn, then. But don't take us down into that gorge.'

She sounded annoyed at not getting her own way. As she settled herself back in the passenger seat her buoyant mood seemed to return.

'Is this Lyman's Tout we're climbing? And what does Tout mean?'

'Cape. Lookout point. Local word. Over to our left is Houns Tout. Don't ask me what Houns means.'

Philip started up the engine and continued up the track. To his left stretched a large area of scrubby grass running up to a drystone wall. Earlier he had tried driving over the grass and found it sodden with water. Still disturbed, he glanced down at Sterndale Manor and drove higher and higher.

'They told us back at the hotel the wind would hit us when we cross the crest of that ridge – straight off the sea. Batten down the hatches.'

He had just spoken when they arrived at the highest point of the ridge. The wind hit them like a huge door slamming in their faces. Eve pulled up the hood of her coat, wrapped it round her head. Philip slowed down as the earth became a flat plateau of miserable grass. To his left the drystone wall bent away east, as though shrinking from the onslaught. The roar of the sea was a drumbeat. Philip stopped the vehicle, turned off the engine, leaned over so Eve would hear him.

'I'm going a bit further on foot. I think we're close to the edge.'

'This is close enough for me.'

'I wonder who that weird old pile belongs to?'

Way over to his left, well back from the sea, crouched a bleak mansion, two storeys high, its walls of granite. It had a deserted look and from it the ground sloped downwards steadily towards what he suspected was the cliff rim.

Bending against the force of the gale battering him he walked cautiously forward. He stopped abruptly. With nothing to indicate the danger he found himself at the brink and thanked God the wind was blowing against him.

The precipice sheered three hundred feet down past outcrops of rock to where the sea thundered against its base. Rocks like enormous teeth protruded above the sea. As a giant wave came in and burst like a bomb against the cliff the rocks vanished and Philip felt wet spray on his face. The sea receded briefly exposing the rocks, then again they were inundated as a fresh wave came hurtling in.

That was when he remembered once again his late wife, Jean, who had meant more than life to him. If I took just one step forward the edge would crumble, taking me with it, he thought. Then the loss of being without her would end. And he had a witness who would say it was an accident. Gritting his teeth, he forced the idea out of his mind. Jean would not have wanted him to give up, would have wanted him to go on to see what kind of a new future he could build. If any…

He blinked. Out at sea a light had flashed several times. From the corner of his eye he caught a flash inland. As he stared at the ominous-looking granite house he saw several answering flashes. Someone was exchanging signals with something out at sea. Then the hulk on land was just a black hulk. Had he imagined it? He went back to where Eve stood sheltered by the Land Rover, staring to the east. She pulled back her hood to hear him.

'Did you see a light flashing from that big dark house?' he asked.

'No, I didn't.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes. Did you reach the cliff edge?'

'It drops like a sheer wall. For a moment I felt dizzy.'

'Which is why you're seeing lights.' She jumped up into the driving seat before he could stop her. 'I think I'd better drive back. Come on. Get in.'

He swore under his breath. She did like to get her own way. An alarm signal triggered in his brain. She had the engine going when he climbed up into the passenger seat beside her. Then she turned the vehicle in a semicircle and began heading back down the ruts of the track.

Shaken by his experience at the cliff edge Philip kept quiet for a short time. He soon realized she was a first-rate driver, which was a relief. He gazed westward at the series of savage capes thrusting into the sea like giant spears. He thought it was one of the grimmest coasts he had ever seen. No trees anywhere. Just a series of ridges ending in those huge capes. Then he gripped Eve's arm gently to avoid startling her. They had just crossed the crest of the ridge, dropping behind it, so the gale was turned off as though someone had pulled a switch. The weird silence was back.

'Stop, for God's sake!' he shouted.

He could see Sterndale Manor in the distance way below them. The large house had flared up like a gigantic torch. The entire edifice was enveloped in flames from end to end. Eve had stopped the vehicle as Philip took out his monocular glass again, focused it. A ferocious red glare filled the lens. He scanned the grounds fenced in by a drystone wall. Half inside a large barn standing away from the burning house was an ancient Bentley with running-boards and huge headlamps. General Stern-dale's.

'We can't do anything about it,' Eve said, lighting a cigarette.

Recalling the remark later it struck Philip as cold-blooded, indifferent. But she was right. He couldn't reach the mansion by driving down the slope to their left – it was far too steep. He couldn't even scramble down it if they drove closer down the ridge – the wet muddy surface was so treacherous he'd lose his balance and plunge down a lethal distance.