In Part 3 of the story Kate describes her experience of the events that day she spent with Emerald and discovers something astonishing as she looks round the Chateau gift shop…Parts 1 and 2 of The Emerald Cave can be found in the previous 2 posts.
The area of coast Emerald and I travelled to that day is renowned for its towering cliffs and rocky shores and many of the bays are fringed by huge rocks and cave complexes. As a family we’d spent many days on the beaches there but Emerald told me of a small cove we could walk to where few people went, because it was less accessible and had no facilities such as toilets and cafes.
‘We’ll have to pee in the sea or behind a rock!’ she suggested, which threw us into hysterics again.
It was a fair walk to her cove and hard work in the increasing heat but she was right, only a handful of people had bothered to clamber down the steep, rudimentary steps to the small, curving bay, which curved round between two protruding cliffs so that the beaches on either side were obscured. We went to one end, where banks of rocks piled up against the cliff and small cave entrances were visible. Here we were a fair distance away from any other bathers. We wriggled into swim gear and laid our towels down on the sand, then ran into the sea, shrieking. It felt good after the long, hot walk and we played about, splashing and somersaulting before lying on our backs and floating gently in the waves.
When we’d had enough, we ate some snacks and basked in the sun, until I could feel my skin burning. Emerald said we should get some shade and why didn’t we explore the caves? We clambered up the boulders and peered into one, but it was small and didn’t extend far back. Emerald led me further round towards the end of the cliff, stooping to climb over rocks and hauling herself up until she stood above me. I glanced below us. Here, the sea lapped up against the shore, slapping against the strewn boulders, the tide having come in quite a lot since our swim. Emerald was gesticulating and grinning, beckoning me to hurry up then she disappeared from view. I followed her path up the rocks to where a much larger cave entrance lay. After the glare of the sun, it was hard to see into the aperture, although I could hear her calling me from inside. I stumbled in. It was spacious and had a sandy floor littered with rocks and pebbles. She was perched on a boulder looking delighted.
‘It’s so cool!’
‘Cooler than out there’ I replied and she laughed. I sat down and she began delving in her bag, pulling out a bottle of water and a small package.
‘We can have a rest here in the shade before we trek back to the station,’ she said. ‘Here, catch!’ and the tossed one of two small envelopes across to me. I frowned at the envelope.
‘What is it?’
‘Have a look.’
I undid the flap and looked inside. There were two, tiny pink tablets in there. I frowned at her. ‘What are they?’
She laughed, tipping the contents of the other envelope into her hand. ‘They’re cool stuff that makes you feel great!’ Try them! She tipped her tablets into her mouth and swigged some water before tossing the bottle to me.
I’ve asked myself thousands of times why I took the drugs but there’s no answer to it. I loved Emerald and wanted to please her, wanted the fun, happy-go-lucky times she’d given me to continue, so I followed suit, swallowing down the tiny pills, then waited for something to happen. It wasn’t as if we hadn’t been told a hundred times about the perils drug-taking, lectures both at home and at school. It was as if none of it was now relevant. All that mattered was having a good time with my best friend.
At the end of our wine tasting session, David buys an over-priced bottle of red and we drift off, he with his camera to do some creative photography and I to the gift shop, in which a half a dozen people are browsing. We agree to meet in about half an hour at the café on the terrace. I take my time in the shop, even though there’s nothing I want. I’m looking through a stand of silk, hand painted scarves when the sound of a voice jerks me round. I look for the source. There are two women serving at the counter, one of whom is tall and willowy, grey-blond hair piled up in a wispy bun. She is wrapping up an item in gift paper. While she is older, she has a voice and a face I can never forget. It is Emerald. I stare. She finishes the wrapping, handing over the parcel and offering the card machine, bidding the customer ‘bon journee’.
I feel my heart pounding, a beat in my ears as I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. She tidies the counter, putting scissors away, chatting to her colleague and I know that any minute she will look up, look over and see me. Will she recognise me? Do I want her to?
It was dark when I woke in the cave, light only filtering in from an almost full moon. I was lying up on a flat ledge near the back. Sea water was slopping against my legs and almost all of the cave floor was submerged. I was disorientated, shivering with cold, dressed as I’d been before in only shorts and vest top. An empty water bottle floated back and forth with the waves but of my bag, towel and phone there was no sign. I sat up, looked around and discovered I was alone. My stomach lurched as I realised that Emerald must also have been asleep and must have been washed out to sea along with everything else. Waves of nausea swept over me and I retched over the ledge into the dark, foamy water.
I sat up and waited for the dizziness to pass before taking stock of my situation. Where was Emerald? Was she even alive? How could I raise an alarm? How long would it take for my parents to call someone and how would they know where to look for me? I was cold and wet. I bit my lip and folded my arms around my knees in a bid to limit the shivers. My only chance of alerting someone would be to try and get to the cave entrance and out past the water then shuffle round the rocks and back to the bay. I felt sick and faint and it seemed a mountainous, challenging task. I had no idea what the time was. The enormity of my problem overwhelmed me as I wept, crying for myself, for my one and only best friend.
I’m unable to take my eyes from the older, adult Emerald at the gift shop counter. She’s tidying up and talking to her colleague. When she’s done, she’ll look up and she’ll see me. She straightens and glances across the shop floor, stopping still at the sight of me. There is a moment when we’re both held in the gaze. The blood drains from her face as she grips the counter and I begin walking towards her. She says a few words to the other woman then comes out and around to the front where I’m standing.
‘Let’s go outside’ she says, leading me out through the hallway and around to the café. We sit at a wrought iron table. There’s a silence between us that has to break.
‘Tell me’ I say. She sighs, stares down at the table. Her face is made up, her nails immaculate. A pastel wisp of scarf is slung around her neck, the epitome of French elegance. She begins to talk.
‘You don’t know how glad I am that you are alright, Kate. You cannot imagine the guilt and worry I’ve suffered all these years.’
I’m at a loss for words. I’m alright? She has suffered? I clear my throat.
‘Tell me what happened.’
Check into next week’s Anecdotage to read Episode 4 of ‘The Emerald Cave’.
Grace is also known as the novelist, Jane Deans. She is the author of two novels. Eco thriller, The Conways at Earthsend is available from Amazon, Waterstones, Goodreads, W H Smith, Pegasus Publishing and many more sites. Mystery, The Year of Familiar Strangers is available to download from Amazon. Visit my website: janedeans.com or my author page on Facebook: (1) Jane Deans, Novelist, Short Fiction and Blog | Facebook.