Chapter One

On the Cliff Edge 

It was a long way down for Darrell Rivers. 

    She peered over the cliff edge. It may have frightened her once to stand here, but now it meant nothing to her. She imagined losing her footing. She imagined tripping over the cliff edge. She had not told Sally where she was going. It had become her routine to slip out of the house at dawn and walk aimlessly. Darrell had half a mind to take one more step. ‘Maybe my mangled body will be found later today, or tomorrow.’ She imagined Sally’s reaction to finding her flattened body. ‘She’d be heartbroken,’ Darrell thought, lightly scratching her arm. ‘I would think a lot more people at St. Andrews wouldn’t give a jot, whether I lived or died.’ Darrell took another step forward. She was testing herself. She practiced her breathing. ‘Perhaps I would lose consciousness during the fall.’ 

    ‘Darrell!’ 

   She turned around to see Sally Hope with a shocked expression on her face. Sally ran to her side. They stood together on the cliff edge. It was noisy. There was a gale brewing. ‘You look very white,’ Sally said, raising her voice above the noise of the wind. 

    ‘As do you.’ Darrell smiled, but Sally didn’t buy it. 

   ‘I only came to find you because my aunt has made breakfast for the two of us, and it’ll be getting cold now. Come on, let’s eat.’ 

    They walked back to the house in silence. In the hallway, Sally took a moment to unravel the scarfs and bobbins she had put on for her expedition to the cliff edge. Darrell had not even put on a coat. She hadn’t felt the cold during her walk, but now she noticed a chill run through her body. 

    She didn’t wait for Sally, before she went into the kitchen. There was a veritable feast on the table, but Darrell did not feel hungry in the slightest. 

    She went through the motions and swallowed her bacon and eggs. Sally’s aunt was not a good cook, but she was generous with her portions. Darrell wondered if this had anything to do with the death of her husband. 

   ‘Perhaps he used to have big breakfasts every day, and she’s not broken the habit of making them,’ Darrell thought.

    She popped the yoke of her egg. 

   After Darrell and Sally’s departure on Friday, Sally’s aunt would have the house to herself again. There would be no more cooked breakfasts, or picnics in the garden, she would rise late in the morning and go to bed in the early evening. 

    Darrell could barely look the woman in the eye, when she passed her in the kitchen to get a glass of milk. 

   ‘Where did you walk this morning, Darrell?’ 

   ‘Just to the cliff edge,’ Darrell said. She had no reason to lie. 

   ‘She was standing right on the edge, Aunt Mary, right on the edge, it gave me quite a shock.’ 

   ‘I am sure Darrell was careful,’ Aunt Mary replied. ‘I thought the three of us could go to Polruan later to see if there’s anything you need to buy before you leave.’ 

   ‘I think that would be nice,’ Sally said. 

   Darrell nodded slowly. She could see how the day would go. But she could think of nothing else to do with the afternoon. She had practically walked the breadth of Cornwall during their stay. She drank her cold milk. 

Their walk around Polruan was as boring as Darrell expected. But she did buy some useful things for the next term at St. Andrews. 

   Her hair was wet from the rainfall, which had started as soon as they opened the gate and walked up the path to Aunt Mary’s front door. When they arrived back at the house, Darrell went to her room and laid out these things on the bed. She stood over the small bed. She had bought a new notebook with a brown, soft leather cover. She had treated herself to a bronze coloured fountain pen. She had also bought a turtle shell hair clip from an odd little shop by the quay. ‘Your hair is always a mess,’ Sally had joked. ‘Perhaps this will help.’ Darrell inspected the clip. She slid it into her mass of unruly hair. Darrell turned away from the bed and walked to the window. She pressed her forehead against the cool windowpane. It was not an unpleasant feeling. 

    Darrell furrowed her brow; there was a sound coming from the next room. She went to the wall she shared with Sally and heard a feeble weeping. 

   Darrell had only heard Sally cry a few times. When Sally was brought to tears, it was for a good reason. Darrell left her room and went to investigate. After a moment of hesitation, Darrell knocked on Sally’s bedroom door. ‘Darrell? Come in.’ Darrell went into Sally’s room. Sally had spent a good amount of time at her aunt and uncle’s house in Cornwall during her childhood, so the room was littered with memorabilia from her school days. There was a lacrosse stick in the corner. ‘Did you hear me crying? I’m not embarrassed, Darrell, it’s only you.’ Darrell didn’t know how to feel about this. 

   ‘I thought you might be laughing. What’s the matter?’ 

   ‘Found my old diaries,’ Sally explained, giving her eyes a rub. She was sitting on her bed. There were three notebooks on her lap.

    ‘Diaries?’ 

    ‘It's a secret.’ Sally said. ‘I haven’t written an entry for a while. Would you sit here next to me?’ 

    Darrell did as she was told and sat next to Sally on the bed. 

   ‘I thought I might find something funny, but now I only feel sad. See, listen to this. I think it’s verbatim. I remember thinking it was important to note the exact words.’ Sally opened one of the notebooks. She cleared her throat. Darrell picked her nails. ‘One day, girls, you will leave school and go out into the world as young women. You should take with you eager minds, kind hearts, and a will to help.’ Sally paused. ‘The thing is, Darrell,’ Sally went on, turning to her friend, ‘I don’t think I possess any of those qualities. But here we are, in the world, and I haven’t got a clue.’ 

     It was somewhat reassuring to hear that Sally also felt helpless. 

    ‘I could make you a cup of tea,’ Darrell suggested. She tried to sound enthused. ‘I could bring you a hot water bottle if you liked. We could have a sleep over with a midnight feast.’ 

    Sally sat cross-legged on her bed. She looked out of the window, then back to Darrell. 

    ‘Wouldn't take long to walk to Malory Towers from here,’ she said. ‘I think I’d like to see it.’ 

    It was a blustery night. Darrell had no desire to leave the house again. ‘I think it’s better if we stay here,’ Darrell said. She used her Head Girl voice. Sally bowed her head. She could not disagree with her Head Girl. 

   After ten minutes, Sally said she was quite tired, and Darrell went back to her own room. She changed into her pyjamas and slipped into bed. Darrell had grown accustomed to going to sleep with a temper, but she could rarely pinpoint her feelings. She closed her eyes and thought about John. Darrell Rivers did not sleep for quite some time. 

    When she did, she dreamt of the fall.