Evergreen Falls by Kimberley Freeman Read Free Book Online
Authors: Kimberley Freeman
certain Tomas hadn’t asked the owner’spermission for me to go in and poke around, and I didn’t want to get him in any trouble. The men were in deep conversation, and I would have been in plain sight if I walked past them to let myself in.
Instead, I doubled back and made my way through a breezeway and then across the old tennis court to the edge of the escarpment. A long stone wall, about hip height, ran the length of the Evergreen Spa’s boundary. Its Doric columns were spotted with wear and lichen and in some places were crumbling into rubble. A set of old stone stairs led . . . somewhere. A wire fence had been erected across the entrance to the stairs, with a danger sign attached. I heard voices approaching, and hesitated. The desire to go unnoticed in my prowling around the west wing fought with my desire not to slip on a crumbling stair and go hurtling to my death. What would Mum say if she saw me?
I was over the fence in a moment. The stairs were solid, if a little worn, but they soon ran out and I was standing on an overgrown, stony path that wound down into the valley. The Evergreen Spa had been a health retreat in its day, and perhaps this had been an old walking track. I was charmed by this idea. From the town, many fine bushwalks zigzagged up and down to the Falls, and they were all well maintained, with handrails and stepping-stones. They were also usually busy with tourists. I liked the idea that nobody had trod this path for a long time. The sun was warm on my face, the afternoon breeze up.
The path took me down on a slow curve into the valley. The flora contrasted sharply with the introduced oaks and conifers that lined the streets of the town. Instead, I passed red gums and she-oaks, wattle and banksia. Here and there, old tree branches covered the path and I had to pick my way over them. Years of leaf fall, peeled bark, scratching ferns, and loose rocks sought to pull my feet from under me. I leaned on the rock wall for balance as I made my waydown and down. The canopy grew thicker now, coachwood trees and gray myrtles.
I looked up and saw the edge of the escarpment far above me. I’d have to climb all the way back up at some stage, and clouds were moving in. I hesitated, but then I saw something odd about a hundred meters away, so I kept going to get a better look. I soon came across two metal cables, about my thumb’s width. One hung slack and curled up on the end, but the other plunged far below. The source of both appeared to be at the top of the escarpment, behind the hotel.
Curious now, I picked my way down farther amid the sharp smell of the forest, the clear call of bell miner birds and the rocks green with mold in the shadows. My feet crunched on until I found the path had crumbled away and I couldn’t go any farther.
I knelt down and peered over the ledge, and I could see far below, where the cable ended: a little iron structure had come to rest against the sediment-striped cliff. I had no idea what it was, but clearly it had something to do with the hotel. Would Tomas know?
Sweat was trickling under my T-shirt now, and I sat back on my haunches and wished I didn’t have to slog all the way back up. I could hear distant traffic, and thought that if I could get to the bottom of the valley, I might find a road, a bus stop, a town with a taxi. I looked around. Was that another track that wound off into the valley? Or just another dead end?
I picked myself up and followed it. A huge fallen red gum covered the track, so I leaned against the bark and peered over. Definitely a track. I wriggled up onto the tree, then half slid, half fell down the other side. I picked my way between rocks and spiky grass trees, ducking under bulging overhangs. Around the bend I could already see that the track was running out; it sheared into the rock wall and all that was left was a big drop.
But as I drew closer, I saw the cave.
Above me, the clouds had dissolved. Romantic ideas about sheltering in
Instead, I doubled back and made my way through a breezeway and then across the old tennis court to the edge of the escarpment. A long stone wall, about hip height, ran the length of the Evergreen Spa’s boundary. Its Doric columns were spotted with wear and lichen and in some places were crumbling into rubble. A set of old stone stairs led . . . somewhere. A wire fence had been erected across the entrance to the stairs, with a danger sign attached. I heard voices approaching, and hesitated. The desire to go unnoticed in my prowling around the west wing fought with my desire not to slip on a crumbling stair and go hurtling to my death. What would Mum say if she saw me?
I was over the fence in a moment. The stairs were solid, if a little worn, but they soon ran out and I was standing on an overgrown, stony path that wound down into the valley. The Evergreen Spa had been a health retreat in its day, and perhaps this had been an old walking track. I was charmed by this idea. From the town, many fine bushwalks zigzagged up and down to the Falls, and they were all well maintained, with handrails and stepping-stones. They were also usually busy with tourists. I liked the idea that nobody had trod this path for a long time. The sun was warm on my face, the afternoon breeze up.
The path took me down on a slow curve into the valley. The flora contrasted sharply with the introduced oaks and conifers that lined the streets of the town. Instead, I passed red gums and she-oaks, wattle and banksia. Here and there, old tree branches covered the path and I had to pick my way over them. Years of leaf fall, peeled bark, scratching ferns, and loose rocks sought to pull my feet from under me. I leaned on the rock wall for balance as I made my waydown and down. The canopy grew thicker now, coachwood trees and gray myrtles.
I looked up and saw the edge of the escarpment far above me. I’d have to climb all the way back up at some stage, and clouds were moving in. I hesitated, but then I saw something odd about a hundred meters away, so I kept going to get a better look. I soon came across two metal cables, about my thumb’s width. One hung slack and curled up on the end, but the other plunged far below. The source of both appeared to be at the top of the escarpment, behind the hotel.
Curious now, I picked my way down farther amid the sharp smell of the forest, the clear call of bell miner birds and the rocks green with mold in the shadows. My feet crunched on until I found the path had crumbled away and I couldn’t go any farther.
I knelt down and peered over the ledge, and I could see far below, where the cable ended: a little iron structure had come to rest against the sediment-striped cliff. I had no idea what it was, but clearly it had something to do with the hotel. Would Tomas know?
Sweat was trickling under my T-shirt now, and I sat back on my haunches and wished I didn’t have to slog all the way back up. I could hear distant traffic, and thought that if I could get to the bottom of the valley, I might find a road, a bus stop, a town with a taxi. I looked around. Was that another track that wound off into the valley? Or just another dead end?
I picked myself up and followed it. A huge fallen red gum covered the track, so I leaned against the bark and peered over. Definitely a track. I wriggled up onto the tree, then half slid, half fell down the other side. I picked my way between rocks and spiky grass trees, ducking under bulging overhangs. Around the bend I could already see that the track was running out; it sheared into the rock wall and all that was left was a big drop.
But as I drew closer, I saw the cave.
Above me, the clouds had dissolved. Romantic ideas about sheltering in