‘He’s a bully.’ He kissed her again but it was so hard to balance; and holding a static pose became more taxing with every passing minute. He swapped the hands he was holding on by, shaking out the muscles in the arm. They were tiring. Accidents happened when people grew tired.

‘We should probably start heading up,’ she said reluctantly.

‘No. Let’s stay here.’

She laughed softly at his desperation. ‘We’ve put a lot of strain on the ropes.’ They had been rubbing against the jagged rocks all the while.

‘Wait!’ He put his hand on hers. ‘. . . Stay with me today,’ he said fiercely. ‘Don’t go over to the other side. Give me every second that is left to us.’

She swallowed. ‘But how? The factor won’t allow it.’

He thought hard for a moment. ‘Leave him to me. He’s not the first sycophant I’ve dealt with and he won’t be the last.’ He raised a hand to trace her cheek again, looking at her like she was something beautiful and rare. ‘How could I ever have known that I would come here and find someone like you?’

Effie wondered where she would have had to go to find him. What was the world like, where he hailed from?

‘Just go along with whatever I say. I’ll get rid of him, I promise.’

They began to climb. She insisted he went first so she could advise on his route if it was needed, but his alpine experience showed in the decisions he made for where to reach, when to lunge. She went to catch him up, but as she drew nearer . . . she felt him pull away. Accelerating. She looked over to find him grinning.

‘Oh I see! You want a race?’ she laughed, knowing she could easily switch up a gear. And she did.

‘No!’ he cried as he quickly fell behind her. Although he was taller and stronger, he couldn’t compete with her sure-footedness; she was barefoot and able to get a toehold in the smallest cracks; he, in his boots, could not.

She didn’t go so far ahead as to leave him in the dust but once they were over the ledge and off the scree, back onto the grass slopes where they could use their legs to run as they pulled up, he narrowed the gap.

‘Hurry up!’ she teased, scrambling over the jutting, craggy rocks. ‘Why are you so slow?’

She was only just ahead – the mercy she had shown on the technical climb now compromised on the grassy patches – and she gave small screams as he repeatedly lunged for her, his arm outstretched, nearly, so nearly catching her. She leapt onto the flat just in time, laughing breathlessly, her eyes as bright as a child’s and forgetting – momentarily – all about the person waiting for them. Sholto arrived a moment later, rolling onto the grass in a breathless heap, his arms and legs sprawled.