Vince May - Presumed Dead

Mason felt a bit safer now that Ross had vented his anger, but he was very curious to find out as much as he could. He refilled Ross’s glass then took the seat opposite him and said, ‘Why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you?’

Ross looked up at him through bleary, unfocussed eyes and slurred, ‘They’re trying to get me, one way or another they want to put me in jail.’

‘Who’s trying to get you?’ Mason asked in his best bedside voice. It had occurred to him that if he could extract a confession from Webley and report back to the coroner before the autopsy results were known, he might be able to save a little face at the inquest if it did turn out to be a poisoning.

‘The bloody police, that’s who,’ Ross slurred, his eyes rolling about in his head. ‘They’ve been hounding me all day!’ The effect of all the brandy mixed with half a bottle of whisky on an empty stomach finally took its toll and he slowly started to slide forwards.

Mason leapt to his feet just in time to save him from pitching head-first onto the floor, but he couldn’t save the glass, which dropped out of Ross’s hand spilling whisky on the carpet. With an effort, Mason pushed him back onto the sofa and loosened his tie. Ross mumbled something then started snoring loudly.

‘Well you’re not going anywhere tonight,’ Mason said aloud as he heaved his legs up onto the sofa and stuffed a cushion under his head. He went out of the room and came back a few minutes later with an old blanket, which he draped over Ross before switching the lights off and retiring to bed himself.

When Alice woke from a deep sleep, there was absolute silence in the hut. The storm had blown itself out during the night and now a watery, early dawn light was seeping in through the small window. She looked down at Philippe, who was still asleep, cradled in her arms, and said a silent prayer that they might be allowed to share this love forever, without end. She was sublimely happy and knew that she loved him with all her heart and soul. Softly, she kissed his forehead and he stirred, sliding up a little so that he could kiss her lips.

‘Good morning,’ he whispered, in a voice that was softer and more gently that the crumbling snow outside. ‘Thank you for last night.’

‘Thank you,’ she said softly, holding him close and kissing him.

‘What time is it?’ he asked, looking towards the window.

Alice slid her arm out from under the blanket and felt around at the side of the mattress for her watch. Finding it in among their discarded clothes, she said, ‘Just after six.’

‘I had better get moving,’ he said reluctantly, trying to sit up.

She clung to him for a few seconds longer, then finally, unwillingly, let him slip from her grasp. He collected his clothes from around the mattress then went into the washroom while Alice snuggled back down, pulling the coarse brown blanket up around her soft white shoulders.

When Philippe was dressed, he put a pan of water on the gas ring so that Alice would have warm water to wash in, then he made coffee while she took her turn in the washroom. By the time she came out, wearing just her shorts, polo top, fleece and socks, the coffee was ready and they sat at the table opposite each other to drink it.

‘Where are your trousers?’ he asked. ‘You should put them on, you’ll be cold.’

‘You’ve got to take them with you, remember? They came from the Charpoua Hut.’

‘Oh yes,’ he said gloomily, ‘I had forgotten.’

The prospect of being parted was starting to weigh heavy on them both again, so Alice decided to lighten the atmosphere by saying, ‘I hope I can get a nice quick divorce. I don’t want this baby to be born before we’re married.’

That did the trick. Philippe threw his head back and laughed aloud. ‘You think you’re pregnant then?’ he asked.

‘I’d be very surprised if I wasn’t,’ she smiled dreamily, ‘after the job you did last night. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m carrying quintuplets!’

They laughed together and held hands over the table while they finished their coffee, then Philippe got up and started to pack his rucksack.

‘How long do you think it will be before I’m rescued?’ Alice asked.

‘Now that the weather has cleared, they should start routine missions again,’ he told her. ‘There should be a helicopter flying past here about nine o’clock.’

‘What should I do when I see it?’ she asked.

‘The best thing to do is climb up the path onto the slab over the hut, then wave something to attract their attention. When they see you, stretch your arms out and wave them up and down, that means you want assistance.’

‘I hope it works,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to be stuck up here on my own for too long.’

‘Don’t worry,’ he reassured her, ‘you’ll be back in Chamonix in time for lunch.’

‘What are you going to do after I’ve been picked up?’ she asked.

‘Go back home and wait for you.’

He had a last look around the hut, picking up the empty wine bottle, the extra clothes Alice had worn and the spare crampons, then finished packing his rucksack. After that, he put his boots and jacket on, strapped the crampons in place, slipped his gloves on and was ready to go.

Alice put her boots on and went to the door with him. After a long, final embrace, she said, ‘Look after yourself.’

‘You too,’ he smiled. ‘See you soon, you and the babies.’ He patted her tummy gently, then turned and trudged down the path, pausing just once to wave as he turned the corner out of sight.

Alice watched him go with tears in her eyes, then went back into the hut and closed the door. ‘Come on,’ she told herself aloud, ‘get your butt into gear. It’s time to get this place cleaned up. You’re gonna be out of here in a couple of hours.’ Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she dragged the mattress back up onto the bunk then folded the blanket neatly on top of it. After that, she washed the coffee cups and tided the kitchen, collected her bits and pieces, stuffed them into her little backpack then sat down to wait, smiling as she reveled in her memories of the previous evening.

Philippe made good time to the Charpoua Glacier and was back in the hut by eight-thirty. He’d been worried about leaving a trail of footprints from the Couvercle Hut, but found that the snow on the path was frozen solid and that his crampons hardly made any marks at all.

All the way back he’d been thinking of Alice and the night they had just spent together. He was deeply glad that he’d had the courage to ask her to marry him, and even more glad that she’d accepted. He knew that he loved her beyond reason and that they were going to be very happy together. The worst thing now was going to be not seeing her for a while, going back to his house all alone to wait for her, wait until she’d done battle with that husband of hers and was free to be with him forever. God, how I wish her husband had been shot instead of the other man, he thought vehemently. Given half a chance, I’d do it myself!

After getting his breath back from the steep climb up the glacier, he carefully packed the borrowed clothes and crampons away under some supplies to make it look like they hadn’t been touched for ages, then set off again, to climb higher still up the huge river of ice.

Back at the Couvercle, Alice noticed the sun was starting to shine through the window, so she decided to climb up onto the great granite slab that covered the hut and wait up there for the helicopter to make its rounds. She turned the stove off, picked her rucksack up, then stepped outside, bolting the door behind her.

The path up to the slab was steep and slippery, but she managed to make it to the top without hurting herself. Once at the top, she found that despite the air temperature being below freezing, the early morning sun had already warmed the rock considerably, so she sat down and stretched her legs out to soak up the sunshine. She decided that the best way to make sure the helicopter saw her was to wave something big, so she delved into her backpack and took her plastic poncho and her telescopic walking pole out. By extending the pole and tying the bright purple poncho to its end, she made a very useful signal flag, which she lay on the rock next to her, ready for use.