A Truelove of Turtle Doves

Chpt 37 - Bitter Cold

It was cold. While I would have considered how unusual this was given that it was about mid-August, I was too busy scolding myself for not putting a coat on - my shirt, waistcoat and dress pants were not enough to keep out the chilling bite of the wind.

I squinted in the darkness, trying to make out the shapes of the ledges along the wall with what little light sources I had available.

There were four windows along this wall, including my own, and only two windows had light in them - mine had a bright glow, and a very dull light was coming from the one furthest away from me.

Great, I thought bitterly, I'm two floors above ground, in what is essentially pitch black darkness, and I have to walk across several tiny ledges in order to climb down an old trellis covered in plants.

I took a deep breath. I didn't have time to contemplate whether this was going to go well or not - I had to do it. It was the only option I had because backing-out was not an option.

I had to get to Francis before anyone knew I was missing.

Taking another deep breath, I clung tightly to any gaps or ledges in the wall, so tight that I was sure my knuckles were turning white. I could feel the cold air creeping into my fingers, and I clenched my teeth at the chills running through my body.

Slowly, I edged myself along the windowsill, shuffling at a pace that I knew was far too slow.

If I wanted to make it, I would have to move faster.

Unfortunately, looking down did nothing to speed up my pace. All I could see in the low light levels of the night were shifting shapes. Some most definitely could have been hedges or bushes, but my frayed nerves and slightly paranoid mind could only see dark, moving creatures, like long snakes and hunting dogs.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I breathed in and out, trying to calm myself as I reached the end of my window ledge.

Right, now I've got to find something else to shuffle along.

My eyes scanned the wall in front of me, straining to see anything in the thick blanket of night. They landed on something. There was a tiny slip of a ledge about three feet below me, and it ran all along the wall, right to the top of the trellis.

Okay, that might work. Not that I have another option.

Slowly and carefully, I crouched down, held the windowsill, and lowered myself onto the tiny ledge. I immediately loathed how thin it was - barely a third of my foot's length, it was just big enough for the balls of my feet to fit.

Breathing out shakily, I moved along the wall, gripping anything I could in order to keep myself steady as I tried to pick up my pace. The windowsill, cracks in the brick work, even the bricks themselves.

I passed the second window, thankful that the curtains were drawn so no one could see me. If I was spotted, I was dead. Well, maybe not literally, I suppose, but I would be caught and unable to help Francis, so I'd consider that death at this point.

The light pouring out of my window got weaker the further from it I got, and the feeble light coming from the last (fourth) window did nothing to brighten my surroundings as I stood halfway between the second and third one.

Barely any stars were visible, and the moon was still hidden by thick, black clouds, so the sky was of no help to me at this point. It almost looked like a thunderstorm was brewing.

The thought brought on a sudden wave of panic. If it rained and I was still up here, I would be so screwed.

So, even though I couldn't really see the ledge I was walking on, and I couldn't really see what my hands were holding onto, I took larger steps along the wall, determined to get down from the height of two floors that was suddenly starting to make me feel queasy.