rocks of the cliff face, one foot on the first ledge and the other swinging in mid-air, unable to move. He clung to an uneven patch in the rock with one hand, while finding a clump of grass just to the right and grabbing on to it with the other hand.
'Christopher,' said a voice above him.
He cricked back his neck to try and see something, but the rock overhung just enough to prevent him from doing so.
'It's me,' said the voice.
'Amaryllis?' he croaked. His voice sounded so thin and cracked that he could hardly hear it himself, so he wasn't sure if she had been able to make out that one desperate word.
'Yes. Hold on. I'll get you out of there, but just one thing...'
'What?'
'I apologise in advance. There's no excuse for what I'm going to do next. It's too good an opportunity to miss, but you'll probably kill me.'
'I'm not the one who goes around armed to the - aagh!' said Christopher, getting a mouthful of earth and small stones as she dislodged some loose bits and pieces at the top. What was the woman talking about? Was she planning to get him arrested? To leave him there all night? To send Jock down to join him?
He clung on, more apprehensive by the minute.
A commotion above made him tense up and cling on even more tightly. He panicked about entrusting his life to Amaryllis - not that she had ever let him down before, but they had been arguing a lot over Scrabble words. Was she any more reliable than a clump of grass?
'Christopher! Don't do it!' he thought he heard her shout, but in a voice that was almost unrecognisable: high, light, girlish.
'Keep hanging on, sir,' said a deeper, calmer voice up above him. 'No need to do anything silly now.'
'Can't - much longer.' puffed Christopher.
'We can sort things out!' called Amaryllis. 'Just don't do this!'
Yes, fine for her to say that, thought Christopher crossly, when she got me into this mess in the first place - as usual.
He waited. A discussion seemed to be going on up there, but he couldn't make out any of the words. Why didn't they send someone down the way he had come? What was taking so long? He thought he saw the faint echoes of blue flashing lights in the dark sky - was he hallucinating, or would that really happen?
After a while - it seemed like at least an hour but he didn't think it could possibly be that long - it was as if someone switched the lights on. The whole cliff face was lit up. When he turned his head to one side and the direction of his gaze downwards, he could see right down to the sea. It looked closer and more menacing than before. He hastily turned his gaze upwards.
'Don't panic, sir!' shouted someone from above. 'We just need to see what we're doing. Health and safety rules.'
What about my health and safety? fumed Christopher to himself. That seems to come last in everybody's calculations.
At last there was movement from the top of the cliff. Because his head was now turned to the wrong side and he didn't dare move a muscle in case he dislodged himself and fell, Christopher couldn't see what was happening, but a few minutes later someone said, almost into his ear, 'Hold tight while I get this rope round you - you're not going to jump, are you? You'd take me with you if you did, and I've got a young family so you wouldn't want to do that, would you?'
While the low voice rambled on, Christopher realised the rope had been tied round him, and soon he felt himself lifting into mid-air. For another moment he clung to his hand-holds, and then he released them, hoping he hadn't hallucinated the comparative security of the rope.
He was hauled up and over the edge in an undignified manner, and fell in a heap at the top. Amaryllis ran over and flung her arms around him.
'Thank goodness!' she said.
He couldn't quite unravel himself as quickly as he would have liked, in order to stand up, but then he realised someone else was speaking anyway.
'... from the cliff top at Kinghorn, where a swift, efficient rescue operation has just taken