For a moment she stood rooted with fear but then she hastily stepped to one side hoping to be able to rush past him, but it was no good, because he grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip and threw her to the ground. For a second, she was so winded that she couldn’t breathe, then with a superhuman effort she managed to roll away from him and crawl across the grass. She hadn’t got far when she felt him tug on her skirt and before she knew it, he had flipped her over onto her back as if she weighed nothing, and as she stared up at him, she saw the hatred gleaming in his eyes. The knife slashed downwards, and though she turned her head, it wasn’t quick enough and the blade slashed across her cheek and she felt something warm dripping down her face.

He was too heavy to push off but she began to kick and fight as best she could while he wrestled to lift her skirt. As she felt the cool air on her skin, she opened her mouth and let out a blood-curdling scream that made the birds in the nearby trees take flight. She felt him ripping her drawers aside as his other hand clamped across her mouth. She was crying so hard now that she was blinded by tears and despair tore through her as she felt him snatching at the buttons on his flies. Even before he had managed to undo them, she could feel his hardness and she knew that she was about to be raped. But suddenly he was hauled off her and as she rolled into a ball and began to sob, she heard Barnaby curse.

‘Why, you filthy lousy bastard!’ She had never heard Barnaby so angry as he threw a punch that sent Bertie skidding across the grass as the bloodstained knife flew out of his hand.

The next minute the men were rolling about in a tangle of arms and legs and she was suddenly aware that they were dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.

‘Barnaby . . . be careful.’ The words had scarcely left her mouth when they both disappeared and she let out another scream.

The seconds seemed like minutes but eventually she crawled to the edge and, looking down, she managed to just make out where they were. Barnaby had landed on a ledge halfway down but Bertie had fallen even further. She swiped the blood from her face and after tucking her skirt into her waistband she began to climb down to Barnaby, whose leg was twisted at an unnatural angle.

‘Are you all reet? What can I do?’ she sobbed when she finally reached him.

His hand rose to stroke her cheek. ‘Y-you’re hurt!’