Next thing we have to go up and over areallyhigh wall thing. We have to get strapped into a nappy-like keep-you-safe-while-you’re-climbing-far-too-high ropey device and climb up it using little sticky-out bits like you see people do in the Olympics now.
I do not like heights. I do not like them at all. I need to focus on the wall in front of me, not the fact that I’m going up and up and up.
I need to focus on myself and what I’m doing and not the ground beneath me.
Unfortunately, what I am doing is climbing with the assistance of Jake, which means that he is holding, pushing and pulling various bits of me.
And in focusing on that I am also focusing on the fact that he has what I do have to admit are very nicely muscled arms and legs. And his bottom looks very hard and muscly too. How is that even possible? And there’s something about bits of me being in close contact with him that’s giving me serious stomach palpitations. Clearly, I need to date a bit more. I’m going mad just because I’m very literally up close and personal (albeit it covered in mud) with a very physically attractive (albeit very annoying) man.
‘You’re a natural.’ Jake’s slightly quirky smile makes me want to smile too, and also causes my stomach to dip again.
When I’ve recovered from the stomach dip, I take stock of our position and realise that he isn’t even joking. I genuinely am not bad at this, especially with Jake’s lovely muscly help.
And therefore we get to the top way faster than anyone would have expected me to, and faster than the other teams. And given that we were already slightly in the lead following the net, we’remassivelyin the lead now.
I feel amazing. This is so cool. I should take up climbing as a sport. I love it.
And then I look down.
‘Fuuuuck,’ I scream. ‘We’re so high up.’
‘It’s fine,’ Jake soothes. I want to kick him, frankly.
‘No, it isn’t,’ I screech.
‘Itis. You’re all strapped up, remember. And you’ll be back on the ground really quickly.’
‘What, when Ifall? Anddie?’
‘No. When you’ve abseiled down.’ He says it like it’s a regular thing to say.
‘Abseil?’ I query, because it isnotin fact a regular thing to say.
‘Remember from the briefing what you have to do? Would you like me to go first or stay and help you?’
I wasn’t listening atallto the briefing; I was too busy panicking about the run we were about to start.
‘I don’t know. No, I do know. Don’t leave me.’ I might, if I’m honest, be clutching his arm with my hands shaped into claws.
‘Okay. No problem. Shall we go together?’
‘Um.’ I look down again and do a big intake of breath and tighten my grip on his arm.
To his credit, he winces and glances once at where my nails are definitely digging inhardto his flesh, but doesn’t say anything.
‘It’s very high indeed,’ I point out.
‘You won’t fall because you climbed up brilliantly and abseiling down is easier, but if you did it would befine, because you’re safely strapped in.’
Okay. Deep breaths. He’s right, of course he is. But the ground isso far away. It wouldreallyhurt if we fell.
I hear a sound diagonally below me to my right, and look over my shoulder. Eek, we’re about to be overtaken.
I donotwant to be doing that ice bath.
‘Okay.’ I’m suddenly decisive. ‘Let’s do it.’
‘Okay. Like this.’ Jake shows me and I copy him.
