I wondered what life had been like in that cottage when Annette became a barmaid at the Sailor’s Rest. I imagined her admirers, Dermot among them. He was perhaps rather susceptible. He had almost immediately fallen in love with Dorabella. It might have been the same with Annette. I could imagine the quick romance, the consequences, and when she knew she was going to have a baby, he was brave enough to fight the family opposition and marry her.
And then…she died.
I stared out to sea watching the waves advance and recede.
What had Mrs. Pardell said about Dorabella? She had warned me. Did she think that some supernatural being was going to lure Dorabella into the sea? She was a practical woman, priding herself on her down-to-earth approach to life, and her good Northern common sense would not allow her to believe that what had happened was what it seemed. And she had told me this because she had thought I needed to know.
The answer must be that Annette had believed she would be safe swimming because it was something she had always done expertly. It might be that she had been overcome by cramp. That was possible. There must be a simple, logical reason why she was drowned that morning.
It was time to go. I was not sure how long I had been sitting there, so completely absorbed had I been in my thoughts.
I rose and went to the barrier rock. I was about to scramble over when, to my dismay, I realized that while I had been sitting there, the tide had come right in. I had failed to notice that the cove was on much higher ground than the beach on either side of the rocks, and if I stepped over them I should be waist high in water.
I looked about me and saw that the sea had crept well into the cove itself while I had been sitting there. I must have been there for nearly half an hour.
I ran to the other side. The sea was splashing about the rocks. It had come in a considerable distance; and even in the cove now there was only a narrowing strip of dry sand.
I was panic-stricken. What could I do? I could not make my way along the beach. The tide was coming in rapidly. In a short time the cove would fill. I was not a good swimmer.
I looked up at the overhanging cliff. I could not climb that. It was unscalable. There were a few clumps of valerian to cling to, but how strong were they? And in any case they were too few and far between.
What a fool I had been! While I had been complimenting myself on my cleverness in extracting so much from Mrs. Pardell, I had stupidly walked into this trap.
I looked about me in dismay. The implacable sea was creeping in slowly but very surely. For some seconds I stood helpless…not knowing what to do. How long, I wondered, before the sea filled the cove? How long could I survive? Could I attempt to scale the cliff? I knew it would be impossible. I was going to be drowned like the lovelorn maiden of the legend and Annette. Could there possibly be some curse…?
I was getting hysterical. I must not do that. I had been foolish and brought this on myself. Oh, why had I made that foolish decision to forsake the cliff path for the beach? I was to blame. This was no mythical revenge.
But what was I to do?
The sea was creeping nearer. Soon it would be rushing into the cove. I must do something, but what? I was completely unprepared for such a situation—helpless, ignorant.
Then my heart seemed to stop beating, for I heard a voice.
“Hello…there!”
Relief swept over me. It was a voice I knew—that of Gordon Lewyth.
I gazed upwards. He was standing looking down on me from the cliff path.
He put his hands to his mouth and shouted: “What are you doing down there?”
“I seem…to be cut off by the tide,” I shouted back.
“You can’t stay there.” There was a moment’s silence. Then he cried: “The cove will be flooded in ten minutes.”
“What?” I cried.
He was gone.
I was filled with fear. Why had he disappeared? Why didn’t he try to help? He had gone and left me to my fate.
Panic rose in me. What did it mean? I remembered how he had followed me when I had paid another visit to Mrs. Pardell. He had watched me come out of her house. I recalled the uncanny feeling I had experienced when he had stood close to me near that fragile fence. He knew I was here and he had gone away and left me.
What could it mean? Why did I have this feeling about Gordon Lewyth? Was it some premonition? I was rambling on in my panic-stricken mind. What did it matter what his motives were now? I was here and he had left me to my fate.
“Violetta!” It was a shout to the right of me. I turned sharply.
He was on the cliff, more than halfway down, holding on to a piece of rock which projected slightly.
The relief was almost unbearable. He had not deserted me.
“Get hold of the rocks on the side there,” he shouted. “See if you can scramble up a little.”
Panting, I managed to take a few faltering steps upwards. Cautiously he descended a foot or two. He was coming close. He leaned down and stretched out his hand.
“Can you take my hand?” he asked.
I tried and failed.
“I’m coming down a little,” he said. “Look out. It’s tricky.”
Very slowly he descended a few feet. Our fingers almost touched.
“Just a minute,” he said. “I have to get a grip here. Now…”
He had grasped my hand and I almost cried out with relief.
He said: “You’ve got to try and edge your way up. There’s a ledge along here…just a few inches more.”
His grasp seemed to be crushing my fingers, but I rejoiced in it.
“Come on. Be careful. Make sure your foot is firm before you lift the other.”
I edged toward him.
“Now…watch it,” he cried.
I was on a level with him.
“Just let me lead,” he said. “Hold on to my coat. I need both hands. And for God’s sake, don’t let go.”
Slowly and very cautiously we moved upwards. The rocks were damp with seaspray and slippery.
“Hold tight,” he cautioned, and I clung to his coat with all my might.
It seemed a long time before we reached that spot where the rock had formed itself into a ledge which was like a narrow seat. It was just a freak in the formation. The rock must have been broken away there, and on the resulting ledge four or five people could have sat huddled together.
It was not very wide, but we were able to sit on it, not with any great comfort, it was true, but it was a haven of rest for me.
“Now, your hand,” he was saying. “Be careful. It’s safe to sit here but watch out all the time. It might have been cut out of the rocks for this purpose. Phew, what a climb!”
I felt my voice tremble. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “We can’t climb up. Look at that rock.”
“You climbed down.”
“I know. It’s tricky. But I know these cliffs well. It’s not the first time I’ve been down here. When I was a boy there was a group of us. We used to dare each other to take risks. You don’t know fear when you’re young. I must have been ten at the time. I got right down and sat on this ledge.”
“I am so grateful to you.”
“You wouldn’t have stood much chance down there, you know. The tide comes slowly into the cove at first and then with a rush. It’s due to the formation of the cove. Are you all right?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“It’s safe enough but it doesn’t allow for wriggling. You must keep alert. The least jerk and you could go hurtling down.”