Knife Edge Read Free Page B

softly. ‘I’ve got you.’
    The beach curved away in a long tapering arc, smoothly encircling the bay and funnelling the waves so that they crashed and tumbled through the jutting rocks at the far end. From down here she could see the stripes and creases on the cliffs, great folds of ancient stone twisted into eerie shapes. The path they’d followed was a thin scar against the strata of the rock face. It didn’t look as though they’d come that far until she spotted the tiny dark smudges – a line of overgrown gorse bushes they’d walked around – and realised the scale of it, how far down they were.
    She moved slowly now, smooth stones and shingle crunching underfoot as they made their way out from the shadow of the cliffs and down towards the water. He matched her languid pace, walking at her side, his hand almost brushing against hers …
    … in case she wanted to hold it.
    They clambered over long fingers of water-worn rock, continuations of a seam from the cliff that cut across the beach, and stepped across the line of slick dark seaweed that marked the tide’s reach. The steady wash of the waves was soothing, and the smell of the beach recalled childhood holidays and stories of smugglers.
    Kim turned her head away from Rob to stare out at the sea, her pace slowing as she watched the dark green water catch the light. A ribbon of bubbles slid towards her feet, slowing and stretching as the water lost its way among the pebbles, lingering for a moment before the undercurrent drew it back. She watched it gently pick up speed, accelerating as though falling away from her until it was lost in the swell of another wave. Impossible to hold on to, like the thoughts that swirled and eddied in her mind.
    She heard the crunch of Rob’s footsteps as he slowly started to move on, but stood a moment longer, staring down at the waves.
    ‘Kim?’
    She looked up and gave him a faint nod, before turning to follow him. They meandered along the wet shingle, out of reach of most of the waves, sidestepping the bigger ones as they came.
    At the far end of the bay, the cliffs marched down towards the water. Rob jogged down to a huge, flat-topped rock, its sides dark and wet, a skirt of seaweed about its base. Shrugging off the rucksack, he hefted it up and pushed it onto the smooth stone surface. Then, putting one hand on the rock, he vaulted up onto it himself, before the next wave could touch his feet. Steadying himself, he turned back to her.
    ‘Come here,’ he called. ‘Quick, before the next wave.’
    ‘What is it?’ she replied, scampering over the slippery pebbles to join him.
    ‘Give me your hand,’ he smiled, his strong grip quickly settling on her wrist. ‘And up you come!’
    ‘Rob!’ She squealed with surprise as her feet left the ground. He lifted her up and round, straining to be gentle as he placed her on the stone beside him. She grabbed him as she regained her balance, then stood up straight.
    ‘You could have warned me,’ she protested. It had been oddly exhilarating, and she forgot herself for a moment, grinning foolishly as she gave him a playful thump on his arm.
    He was staring at her thoughtfully as they caught their breath.
    ‘It’s good to see you smiling,’ he said softly.
    The top of the rock was smooth and cool, dark grey with thin veins of silver and brown. A small bowl-shaped depression retained a mirror of seawater, spray collected at the last high tide, but the rest was dry.
    Rob sat down, cross-legged, and began to unzip the rucksack.
    ‘What about the tide?’ Kim asked, looking at the waves that licked up against the seaward base of the rock. ‘We don’t want to get caught here.’
    He squinted up at her, shielding his eyes against the light, and shook his head slightly.
    ‘We won’t,’ he smiled. ‘Tide’s on its way out.’
    She peered back along the beach, wondering how he knew, then shrugged to herself.
    Somehow he always knew.
    She sat down opposite him, tucking her feet