Free Fall of a Philanderer by Carola Dunn Page B

had allowed them to go bare-headed—chased the hat and caught it when its erratic progress halted in a tangle of heather. Daisy decided to leave it near the path with a stone to hold it down.
    â€œI hope the sheep won’t eat it,” said Deva with a giggle.
    â€œI hope Sid won’t come along and think it’s been thrown away,” Belinda worried. “But he’d give it back to you, Mummy, if we told him.”
    â€œI know he would, darling.” Daisy enjoyed the feeling of the wind tossing her shingled curls, though she knew she would pay for hatlessness with a new crop of freckles. She turned to Alec. “Well, what do you think?”
    He eyed her with an admiring grin. “I always did like the informal look.”
    â€œI meant the view.”
    â€œThat’s beautiful, too.”
    They stood arm-in-arm, gazing out to sea. Even from their height, the Channel looked rough, the great rollers white-capped as far as they could see. Fishing boats bobbed in the middle distance, and farther out a majestic liner ploughed its way through the swells, but the wind seemed to have dissuaded the small yachts from leaving the inlet. Seagulls hung in the air, the “rolling level underneath them
steady air,” Daisy said with a vague memory of Gerard Manley Hopkins’s poem, though that, she rather thought, was about a singular falcon, not plural gulls.
    Walking on, Daisy and Alec stopped now and then to contemplate a particularly fine vista of the rocky coastline. At one high point they could see for miles inland, as far as what Alec claimed was Dartmoor in the hazy distance.
    The girls had run ahead, with strict instructions to stay away from the edge. They came dashing back to announce that they had found Deva’s path down the cliff.
    Alec’s stride lengthened. Pleased to see his enthusiasm, Daisy didn’t try to keep up, saving her energy for a possible climb to come. When she joined Bel and Deva at the top of the path, Alec was already past the first switchback, his hand shading his eyes as he surveyed the rest of the way down.
    â€œMr. Fletcher said to stay here till he says it’s all right to come.”
    â€œAnd then go carefully. No rushing,” Belinda reminded her friend.
    At that moment, Alec looked up and waved. Bel and Deva both immediately set foot on the path side by side. They looked at each other.
    â€œI found it,” said Deva.
    Bel nodded reluctantly. “All right, you can go first. I’ll help Mummy at the difficult bits.”
    â€œGosh, thanks, darling,” said Daisy, feeling a hundred years old. But perhaps it wasn’t her age that prompted such solicitude. Officially Bel hadn’t been told yet that there was a baby on the way, but she was a bright child quite capable of putting two and two together. Children today seemed to know far more of such matters than they had in Daisy’s youth.
    Deva continued downward at a prudent pace. Bel followed her, glancing back now and then to say anxiously, “Are you all right, Mummy?”
    â€œSo far, so good.” The first part was easy, though rather steep, but
soon the way turned rough and rocky. The return journey was going to be quite a toil. The almost sheer drop to Daisy’s left was sometimes separated from the path by a rim of rock or a few tussocks of grass, sometimes by nothing at all. She averted her gaze, keeping it firmly fixed on the next couple of yards her feet had to cross. At least they were not buffeted by the wind. Some trick of conformation of cliff and headland sheltered them, and the sun felt warm.
    They reached Alec. “I can’t see sand at the bottom, if there is any,” he reported, “but there are some flat rocks down there we can sit on for our picnic. They should be sheltered from the wind, and with the tide ebbing we needn’t worry about being stranded. How are you doing, love? You don’t think it will be too much for you