The two young couples were having one of their regular picnics.
The weather was nice, windy yet warm, and the women decided to leave the men talking about cricket and take a stroll along the edge of the cliff. It was just a trodden track that occasionally ran dangerously close to the edge. The slightly older of the two led the conversation; work, holiday plans, and so on. She was obviously trying to learn a little more about her friend. She had suspected something, but couldn’t be sure. He’d been acting funny lately. She knew he was hiding something, but whatever it was, it may have nothing to do with her friend, who, with a sudden gust of wind was stumbling. Suddenly, in the briefest of moments, her friend was gone!
She fell to the ground, lying flat and face down. She crawled to the edge and looked over. She could see that a tangle of roots protruding from the face of the cliff had saved her fall. She was gripping the largest of them with one hand, wide-eyed and virtually unable to speak. She was obviously frozen with fright. The woman above leant over as far as she dared and looked for a way she could get close enough to help her. Although the idea that her friend could fall to her death on the rocks below terrified her, she couldn’t help feeling that fate had provided her with the perfect opportunity to get at the truth, one way or the other.
Making herself heard over the wind, which was now driving into the face of the cliff, she called out, “Before we go further, I need to ask you something.”
The woman below, although still looking frightened, took on a different expression. She only nodded.
The other, now convinced that she was on the right track, called down, “If you can find it in yourself to tell me the truth, it may go better for you. It may, or, on the other hand, it may not. Let’s face it, you either fall, or I get closer and give you my hand, then we very carefully scramble back up together. The choice is yours!”
With tears streaming down her cheeks and fear in her eyes, she said. “OK. I’ve been seeing him twice a week. He comes round for an hour after his night class.”
“Good start. OK, how long has it been going on?”
“About three months, from the time you had us round for your birthday bash. I’m so sorry. I’m truly sorry. I promise, I won’t see him anymore. I swear to you, I won’t!”
“OK, don’t move! Stay exactly where you are. Just hold onto that root without moving. I’m coming down.”
Moving off to the side she found a way to climb down very slowly to a spot next to where the other was hanging on. “Don’t move!” she shouted again, and leant across. The woman hanging to the root looked on in terror as her fingers where prized open one by one.
She wanted to be the one that did it, not fate!