Free Hills End by Ivan Southall

ones that’ll catch cold. Silly her sitting out there waiting for Butch. Butch hasn’t got many brains, but he’s not that dumb. He won’t try to climb the bluff.’
    â€˜Can I come, too?’ squeaked Harvey.
    â€˜You stay where you are,’ growled Paul. ‘Someone’s got to look after the girls.’
    Harvey thought about it for a moment, and it was a compliment that pleased him. He folded his arms and looked as important as an Indian chieftain.
    Paul and Adrian groped towards the gloomy light. It was always easier to fumble towards the light than away from it and Paul ran the string lightly through his fingers to ensure that they came out to the right entrance. He noticed that the string was damp and that the floor of the cave was wet and occasionally they stepped into puddles that had not been there a few minutes ago. He didn’t like it. He had been in here before, in dry weather, when water had started flowing. If it could flow in dry weather it could gush in a storm.
    Suddenly the storm was in front of them, just as it had been before, like an endless block of frosted glass that was breaking all the time and spraying fragments from its edge. They were not fragments of ice now, but gusts of stinging rain, that blew far back into the entrance cave.
    â€˜ Where is she? ’
    It was Adrian’s shout and Adrian’s fingers that dug into Paul’s arm.
    They battled further into the wet and the wind, but she wasn’t there, and Paul pointed. Through the melting hail that was still six inches deep was one almost clear patch. Miss Godwin had gone over the side.
    The two boys clung to each other in an emotion that was nothing less than horror. She couldn’t have fallen; she couldn’t have been blown, because the wind had been driving into her face. Miss Godwin had gone over the side deliberately.

6
The Hours of Terror
    Adrian and Paul stumbled away from the storm, back along the string, round the twists and turns, until they floundered into the big cave, breathless and speechless, but they didn’t need to speak a word.
    If they had stopped to think they might have contrived to break the news gently. If they had paused only for a few moments before rushing into that inner cave they might have prevented the scene that followed. Gussie instantly burst into tears. Before she heard anything she was shaking with sobs. She knew. No one had to tell her. Gussie’s intuition was frightening, because it was invariably right. She never bothered to think in a crisis. She didn’t need to.
    It was Frances who calmed her, even calmed them all, even Adrian and Paul, by putting a motherly arm round Gussie’s shoulder and declaring, ‘Things are often not as bad as they seem. That’s something my mother always says. What possible use can we be to anyone if we behave like a lot of silly people?’
    She compelled them to think about it because she had sounded so motherly and so wise. She didn’t seem in the least frightened. She was, terribly so, but no one knew.
    â€˜You’re right,’ said Paul. ‘Getting panicky isn’t going to help. Whatever we do we’ve got to keep our heads. We’re on our own. Miss Godwin’s gone. She’s the one that’s in danger. Not us.’
    â€˜She’s gone down the cliff,’ said Adrian, ‘to get Butch, I suppose. It was an awfully brave thing to do.’
    â€˜But an awfully silly thing,’ said Frances, ‘and you boys are not to get the idea that you’re to go after her.’
    Adrian buried his face in his hands. ‘But we’ve got to, don’t you see?’
    â€˜I don’t see,’ said Frances. ‘That’s what she meant when she forbade you to go into the storm.’
    â€˜That was different.’
    â€˜It wasn’t different at all. She put you on your honour and we all gave her our honour.’
    â€˜It’s Gussie’s