the people back.’
Kaplan went from that quotation to the problem of the knots that hadn’t stayed tied. As he pointed out, the cruel paradox of the disaster was that, through Greg McLaughlin’s own innovation, there had been no way of dodging responsibility in the aftermath of the expedition. Claude Bresson had been in charge of the red line, Adam had been in charge of the yellow line and Greg had given himself the ultimate responsibility of securing his blue line, the line that would take the expedition up the Gemini Ridge to the col just below the summit.
It was so horribly simple, but just to make it simpler still, a detailed diagram showed the disposition of the blue line on the west ridge and where it had gone astray at the apex so that one group of climbers had missed the line and blundered down the east ridge to their deaths. Poor Greg. I wondered if he had heard of this latest eruption of publicity.
‘Poor Greg,’ I said aloud.
‘Eh?’
‘I said, 'Poor Greg.' Back in the spotlight again.’
‘Vultures,’ said Adam bitterly.
There was virtually nothing in Kaplan’s article that differed even in emphasis from what I had read in Joanna’s article and, from a more personal perspective, in Klaus’s book. I read through the article a second time looking for anything at all that was different. All I could find was a trivial correction. In Klaus’s book, the climber found barely alive the following morning, mumbling, ‘Help,’ had been Pete Papworth. Kaplan had collated the accounts of everybody involved and had established, for what it was worth, that Papworth had died overnight and it was the German, Tomas Benn, who had been found dying. Big deal. Apart from that, the accounts agreed completely.
I went over and sat on the arm of Adam’s chair, ruffled his hair. He passed his drink to me and I took a sip, passed it back.
‘Do you dwell on it, Adam?’
‘What?’
‘Chungawat. Do you go over and over it in your mind? Think how it might have worked out differently, how the dead people might have been saved or that you might have died?’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘I do.’
Adam leaned forward and snapped off the television. The room was suddenly very quiet and I could hear noises from the street, a plane going over. ‘What the fuck for?’
‘The woman you loved died on the mountain. It haunts me.’
Adam’s eyes narrowed. He put his glass down. He raised himself up and took my face in his hands. They were big, very strong. I felt he could snap my head off, if he wanted to. He was looking hard into my eyes. Was he trying to see in?
‘You’re the woman I love,’ he said, without taking his eyes off me. ‘You’re the woman I trust.’
Thirty-four
‘It’s Bill Levenson for you.’ Claudia held out the phone with a sympathetic look on her face, as if she were handing me over to a hangman.
I took the phone from her with a grimace. ‘Hello, Alice here.’
‘Okay, Alice.’ He sounded jovial for a man who was about to downsize me. ‘You’re on.’
‘What?’ I raised my eyebrows to Claudia who was hovering by the door, waiting to see my face collapse.
‘You’re on,’ he repeated. ‘Do it. Drakloop mark IV, she’s your baby.’
‘But…’
‘You haven’t had second thoughts, have you, Alice?’
‘Not at all.’
I hadn’t had any thoughts at all. Drakloop had been the last thing on my mind in the previous couple of days. Even now, I could barely summon up the energy to sound interested.
‘Then you can do whatever you have to do. Make a list of your requirements and your schedule and e-mail them to me. I’ve banged heads together, and they’re ready. Now, I’ve given you the ball, Alice. Run with it.’
‘Fine,’ I said. If he wanted me to sound excited or grateful, he was going to be disappointed. ‘What’s happening to Mike and Giovanna and the others?’
‘Leave the fun stuff to me.’
‘Ah.’
‘Well done, Alice. I’m sure you are going to make a great success of Drakloop IV.’
I left work later than usual, so that I didn’t have to meet Mike. Later, I told myself, I would take him out and we would get drunk together and curse the senior management and their grubby machinations, as if we were both quite untainted by their ways. But not now. I had other things to worry about, and I could only care about Mike in a provisional sort of way. That side of my life was in abeyance. I brushed my hair and tied it in a knot at the back of my head, then I picked up my overflowing in-tray and dumped all of its contents in the bin.
Klaus was waiting by the revolving doors, eating a doughnut and reading yesterday’s paper, which he folded away when he saw me.
‘Alice!’ He kissed me on both cheeks, then looked at me searchingly. ‘You’re looking a bit tired. Are you all right?’
‘What are you doing here?’
To his credit, he looked slightly embarrassed. ‘Adam asked me if I would see you home. He was worried about you.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s a waste of your time.’
He tucked my arm through his. ‘It’s a pleasure. I wasn’t doing anything anyway. You can give me a cup of tea at your flat.’
I hesitated, showing my obvious reluctance.
‘I promised Adam,’ said Klaus, and started to tow me towards the underground station.
‘I want to walk.’
‘Walk? From here?’
This was gelling irritating. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me, and I’m walking home. Coming?’
‘Adam always says that you’re stubborn.’
‘It’s spring. Look at the sky. We can walk through the West End and Hyde Park. Or you can fuck off and I can go alone.’
‘You win, as always.’
‘So what’s Adam doing that he couldn’t come himself to accompany me?’ I asked, after we had crossed the road, the very place I had first set eyes on Adam, and he on me.
‘I think he was going to meet up with some cameraman or other who might climb on the expedition.’
‘Have you seen the piece on Chungawat in
‘I talked to Kaplan on the phone. He sounded like a pro.’
‘He doesn’t say anything much new.’
‘That’s what he told me.’
‘Except for one thing. You said the man who survived overnight and was found dying and calling out for help was Pete Papworth, and Kaplan says it was actually Tomas Benn.’
