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"Sure," Jenny said in a deadpan voice. "Now, how about that coffee?"
CHAPTER 7
The trio talked for more than an hour during that dark night. Jenny gave a vivid account of the attack on them in her classroom.
"We were just getting over it," she said and ignored Bree's attempts to keep her quiet. "That's why poor old Bree has had so much trouble. She was pretty bruised, you know."
"Jenny, "Bree finally said in exasperation. "Will you shut up?"
"No, I'm interested," Ray said. "How did you know Jenny was being attacked, Bree, or did you just happen to be in the right place at the right time?"
"Like Pattie and you being here to hear our aeroplane come in?" Bree said.
"I guess."
"We had new security cameras installed throughout the school. I was just leaving when an alarm went off. They ignore normal conditions but are activated by sudden movement, smoke or loud noises."
"And I was fair screaming," Jenny added. "God, I was terrified." She screwed her nose up and gave Pattie a hug. "It seems so remote from here, though. There's peace in this valley."
"Oh, we have our share of problems in the back country," Ray said. "Just because it's remote doesn't mean the nasties in society go away."
"Like what?" Bree asked.
Ray glanced up at her. "Oh, the hunters and trampers are usually okay. Some are loners and look mighty scruffy, but beneath their outward appearance they're harmless enough. It's the criminal element that you have to be careful of."
"But why would they be out here?" Bree said.
"Drugs. Marijuana is a banned crop in New Zealand, as I guess it is in England, yet we have one of the highest usage rates in the western world."
"All grown illegally?" Jenny asked.
"Yeah. There are some highly sophisticated plots with tripwires and booby traps to keep strangers out." He shrugged. "Don't worry, they're further down in the lowlands and within a day's walking distance of a road. Only professional hunters come this far back. That's why the huts are better up here."
"How do you mean?" Bree asked.
"The ones up here are appreciated and looked after. Closer to the road they are often vandalized, with graffiti strewn about and stuff taken. Those more than a day's walking distance from a road are respected more. If you agree, we'll head up to Taylor's Mistake Hut tomorrow. It's near the stream so if any search planes come over we can still try to attract their attention. Searchers on foot could be heading in by now, too."
"Taylor's Mistake? That's a strange name," Jenny said.
"An early pioneer thought there was gold in these hills. He disappeared and turned up months later half crazy with a story of a vein of gold. Others went looking but found nothing, hence the name."
"A bit like fool's gold in those old cowboy films?" Jenny said.
Ray tossed a stick on the fire and nodded. "Some copper was discovered and mined but there was never enough to be profitable. They even named a creek Copper Mine Creek further down near the Manawatu Gorge. There are still a few old ruins around. You know, holes in the hill, a few railway sleepers and rusting machinery. It's covered in creeper and almost impossible to find now. The area is steeped in history. Farms were set up but the cleared land was of poor quality and was too cold in winter. They were all abandoned and the bush grew back. There's a spot only a few hours walk from here where there are a dozen old apple trees. The early settlers planted them. In spring, hundreds of daffodils come out."
"So we'll head for this hut tomorrow," Bree said. "How far is it?"
"Five hours. Perhaps longer."
"And what's the other way?" Jenny added.
"There's another hut, the one I set out from. We could go that way but it'll take longer."
"But won't we have to go back that way, anyway?" Bree asked.
"No," Ray replied. "Taylor's Mistake is the most remote hut, that's true, but from there we can go down the eastern side of the ranges and out into farm land. Mind you, I wouldn't be surprised if we run into search teams before then. Whatever happens, we should be out before the end of the weekend and you can catch up with your conference."
"Yes," Bree replied with a sigh. "That doesn't seem very important anymore."
She finished her drink and crawled back into the tent. Jenny and Pattie followed. Bree noticed Ray sit down with his back against a tree trunk. "Come in," she said. We won't bite."
Ray laughed. "Thanks, I will," he said, tossed some soil on the dying embers and crawled inside. Pattie came up, wriggled in beside him and within a few moments silence fell over the tiny camp as Bree fell asleep.
RAY CONSIDERED HIMSELF reasonably fit, but the climb out of the valley stretched his endurance to the limit. The summer storm had gone and, even in the shady undercover, the temperature rose. Perspiration soaked his shirt, and the heavy backpack cut into his shoulders. Furthermore, there was no path or trail, just tree trunks, ferns and supplejack. The black vines that hung from the overhead foliage were both a blessing and a curse. They were strong and could be used like rope to pull up on, but the lower ones tended to trip weary feet if the walkers weren't careful.
Two hours after their early morning start, he called a halt. Jenny wiped perspiration off her face and swatted circling insects. She caught Ray's eyes and her red face changed into a slight smile.
"Bree can't take much more," she said. "I think her ribs are giving her hell."
Ray glanced down through the trees to where Bree was using supplejack to pull herself up to a small knob. The tail wagging Pattie was with her as if to give encouragement. Bree staggered the remaining few metres up to the waiting pair. Ray leaned forward, grabbed her arm and helped her up the last section.
"Why didn't you tell us you needed a rest?" he said in a firm but compassionate voice. "You look buggered."
Bree turned towards him and laughed. "Buggered?" she teased.
Ray flushed. "Yeah, well," he muttered. "I forget I've got a couple of English girls with me." He also laughed. "What should I say? 'By jove, old chap, I am somewhat tired.What? ' "
"Something like that," Bree replied. "My God, it's hot."
"Yeah, almost thirty," Ray said.
Bree gave an involuntary grunt and squinted as she manipulated into a sitting position and leaned against the bank.
"Does it hurt?" Ray asked. Both the women impressed him with their stamina, but something about Bree in particular sent tremors through his anatomy. It wasn't that she looked like Maxie, far from it, but her mannerisms and nature were similar. That was it, of course! He was not seeing her as a stranger he happened to stumble upon who would soon disappear from his life as quickly as she came into it.
"What have I done?" Bree's soft voice shook him back to reality.
"Careful, Ray," Jenny cut in. "I reckon Bree knows how to mind read. It's all us neurotic teachers she has to manage every day."
"Jenny!" Bree chastised.
"Well, it's true."
Ray laughed but avoided Bree's eyes. The chatter had helped them all relax a little. "I was just thinking how well you've both done. I've one last bandage in my pack. Would you like me to change the one you have?"
Bree smiled. "No, keep it until later. If you have some cotton wool though."
"Cotton wool coming up," Ray said and reached for his backpack. He gave her the cotton wool, produced some apples as well and the group rested before continuing through the trees.
Bree didn't want to admit it, but her wound throbbed, and the climbing didn't help. She welcomed it when Ray dropped back and gave her a hand over a fallen tree trunk that blocked their progress. His help and patience made her compare him to her husband who always managed to belittle her whenever she asked for his help.
"We'll be at the top soon," Ray said. "Once there, we'll follow a ridge along to the right. It should be quite a gentle slope to the top of the bush line."
"Then what?" Bree asked.
"There's a tussock-covered plateau. We cross it, and Taylor's M
istake Hut is back where the bush starts again at the top of the next valley."
They were interrupted by Jenny's shout. Bree looked up and saw her friend standing in sunshine above them.
"I see it," Jenny shouted. "There's a helicopter near the aeroplane wreckage."
Pattie bounded back from Jenny to Ray, across to Bree and back to her master. Her tongue hung out and her tail wagged. Once she decided they were okay, she shot back up to the patch of sunshine where Jenny waited.
"Pattie's fit," Bree puffed. "I reckon by the time she runs up and down between us all she covers twice the distance we do."
"True," Ray replied. "You should see her go if there are rabbits or opossums to chase."
They reached the clearing together to find it was a grass-covered outcrop high above the valley. Way below, the waterfall tumbled over a massive cliff into a lake of frothing water. From there, the water continued down a broad valley meandering through gravel and stones. It was the other side of the outcrop, though, that was interesting. Here, the grass stopped, there were a couple of grey rocks, then nothing until treetops reached the base of the precipice they were perched on. Across from this they could see the stream again. The silver wing and part of the fuselage of their aeroplane was caught on the outside of a bend. Three people, the size of ants, were examining the wreckage. Further back, a small red helicopter sat on a triangular sandbar.
"We came the wrong way," Jenny said with disappointment in her voice. "They'll never see or hear us up here."
"We had no choice," Bree replied. "Look at that waterfall, Jenny. It would be impossible to climb down those cliffs."
Jenny sucked on her lip. "I know, but if we'd stayed at the crash site?"
"I believe you would have been missed," Ray replied. He took his mobile phone out, then frowned when the instrument still showed they were still out of range. "The floodwaters carried the wreck over the waterfall but wouldn't it have been logical for the plane to have landed below it?" He turned to Bree. "Did your pilot mention the falls?"
Bree frowned. "No, not that I can remember," she replied.
"But if they find only one body, won't they search up above the falls?" Jenny argued.
"Possibly," Ray said. "I doubt if the pilot's body will be in the wreckage, though. If they find it a few kilometres downstream they'll concentrate their efforts on searching in the same area. I doubt if they'd expect anyone to have survived the crash after finding the wreckage in its present condition."
"Okay!" Jenny relented. "But Bree can't take much more..."
"I'm just tired," Bree whispered. "We all are."
"Sure," Jenny replied and stared down the valley. "Look, I believe the helicopter's leaving. We could wave and hope they see us."
However, after the helicopter rose above the downed Cessna, it headed downstream without increasing altitude. "They'll be searching as they go, so will be looking down," Ray predicted as the helicopter disappeared down the valley. "It'll be okay, though. Two hours tops to Taylor's Mistake. I had supplies flown in there for me. It may be isolated but we'll be safe."
Jenny looked at Ray. "It's not that I don't appreciate everything you've done, Ray. It's just that if we weren't here, you'd be alone, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, why?"
"And maybe company is a good thing," she said.
Bree gasped, fully understanding the insinuation. "Stop it Jenny! That was uncalled-for." Anger bubbled in her throat, and she looked again at Ray.
He looked directly at her when he spoke, although he answered Jenny. "What I'd like right now is for that helicopter to appear above us and whip you both out of here. I would be selfish to even consider anything else. I knew that when I accepted the contract, I would be alone."
Bree tried to think of something to say but Jenny beat her to it.
"If I sounded bitchy, I'm sorry. I just...damn... anyway, we have no say in where that helicopter goes, do we?"
"No," Bree said. "But think what we'd be doing right now if Pattie never found us?"
Ray smiled. "Now we're here let's have lunch. I made a thermos of coffee this morning, there are three hard-boiled eggs, a few hard buns and other bits and pieces." He paused. "I won't say that I'm not glad of the company, though."
Bree and Jenny exchanged a glance as Ray prepared lunch.
"Now who can mind read?" Bree whispered.
AFTER WAITING FURTHER in case the helicopter returned, the trio sat off along another ridge. The gradual uphill slope was easy, as was tramping along the small track that they found to follow. Half an hour later, the bush stopped and the trio walked out into bright sunshine. Ahead, as far as they could see was bronze tussock, a spiky grass that grew in clumps. They had reached the top plateau.
It was easier going but new problems soon became apparent. There was no shade at all and it was hot.
Ray took out a tube of sunscreen lotion. "Cover your skin as much as you can," he said. "Without a tan you'll both sunburn far quicker than in Europe. It's got worse over the last few summers. Something to do with the deleted ozone layer in this part of the world."
Bree applied liberal quantities to her skin and watched Jenny do the same before they followed Ray through the ocean of tussock. Despite the heat, Pattie woofed in delight and tore off in every direction after small animals hidden to all but her. Bree's leg muscles were more flexible but her shoulders became sore and she was damp from perspiration.
Ray stopped every few moments to check a compass he had. "We're heading southwest," he said. "We have to be careful, though. It's easy to stroll off in the wrong direction up here."
"It's beautiful up here," Bree commented.
They appeared to be on top of the world. Behind them, three mountains rose above the brown plain. To the west, a silver river meandered through rectangles of land coloured from dark green to yellow and brown. It stretched towards the azure ocean that met the horizon. The bright blue sky was so clear Bree felt she could see forever. The blazing sun was a quarter of the way down its western slope, and she glanced at her watch. It was almost four o'clock.
"How much longer?" Jenny asked. Her face was crimson, and dark rings beneath her eyes showed fatigue. Circles of perspiration saturated her clothing.
Ray turned to a map he pulled from his pocket. "About half an hour's walk to the bush, then it's all downhill in the shade to Taylor's Mistake Hut. An hour and a half, perhaps two."
"You said that at lunchtime," Bree pointed out.
"I know," Ray said, with a small smile. "I didn't want you to get discouraged. Sorry about the deception."
"Okay," Jenny cut in. "But let's get going. I'm beginning to hate this tussock." She wiped her forehead and strutted out ahead of the other two.
"Jenny," shouted Bree. "You're going the wrong way!"
The younger woman turned, saw where Bree was pointing, swore, called Pattie and changed direction.
"She's a good kid," Ray said to Bree as they followed.
"Yes. Our parents were friends and we more or less grew up together. You know, she was a little like a kid sister hanging around. She can be a little stubborn at times but I'm glad she's with me."
Fifteen minutes later, Jenny staggered in mid-stride, sighed and, without any further warning, collapsed onto the ground.
CHAPTER 8
Linda Rourke peered out the window. A police car sat at the curb, and two officers were walking the narrow footpath leading to the front door. Curious, she opened the door before they could knock. "Can I help you, officers?"
"I am Constable Jason Hillthorpe. Madam," the closest officer replied and held out an identity card. "This is Constable Yvonne Dewire. Are we at the residence of Mr. Colin Ashworth?"
"Why, yes," the woman replied. "We were just having a cup of tea. Please come in."
"Thank you, Madam," Hillthorpe said. "And you are?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Linda Rouke." She turned and called out in a louder voice. "Colin, two police officers wish to speak to you."
A scowling Colin Ashworth stepped into the entranceway and studied the new arrivals. "Is there a problem?" he asked.
"It is a personal matter. We need to speak to you privately, Mr. Ashworth?" Dewire said.
"Anything you have to say can be said in front of Linda. We hold no secrets from each other."
The two officers glanced at each other before Hillthorpe spoke. "Very well, sir," he said. "We have just received a message from the New Zealand Police Department."
Colin frowned but otherwise showed little emotion. "It's about Bree, isn't it?"
"I am afraid so, Mr. Ashworth. She was involved in an aeroplane crash in the central North Island of New Zealand. Three people were on board a light aircraft – the pilot, your wife and Miss Jenny Dench. The body of the pilot has been recovered but your wife and Miss Dench are still missing."
"So, she could be alive?" Colin whispered.
"We don't know, Mr. Ashworth. The New Zealand police said the weather conditions were bad at the time of the crash. The aeroplane made a forced landing in a flooded stream in rugged terrain. They believe both your wife and Miss Dench were killed in the crash and their bodies swept downstream in the floodwaters. Search crews are combing the area at this very moment."
"But have found nothing?" Colin retorted.
"No, sir," Yvonne Dewire replied. "We have been advised that the chances of them surviving is practically nil. I'm sorry. We have a personal number you can call in New Zealand if you wish to speak to the officer on the case there."
"I'll do that," Colin said. He ignored Linda, took the card given to him and disappeared out of the room.
Linda stared at his retreating back. "They were only recently separated," she muttered. "I ... I mean Colin and I moved here from London after the separation." Her hands shook. "Would you like to come through for a cup of tea? "
"Thank you. We'll need to speak to the New Zealand police when Mr. Ashworth has finished so would appreciate a cup," Yvonne replied in a soft voice. "There are also a couple of questions we need to ask."