Black Chalk

‘Good, so here’s the game,’ said Jolyon. ‘I say I won’t hit the ground for ten seconds when I jump off the tower. No, let’s have some real fun, let’s make it twenty.’

Mark snorted. ‘Jolyon, you’re being ridiculous.’

‘So you’re taking the position that I’ll hit the ground before twenty seconds elapse.’

‘Obviously you’re not going to jump off a tower, Jolyon.’

‘If that’s the case, you win. Two thousand pounds. Come on then, Mark.’

Jolyon started to skip down the stairs, Mark calling out after him, ‘This is stupid, what’s the trick, Jolyon?’

The old stairs creaked and groaned. ‘I already told you, Mark, there’s no trick. And if there is. And you call it. You win.’

LXIV(ii) As Jolyon crossed back quad he glanced up through the darkness at Loser’s Leap. It looked like a rook in a chess problem. He didn’t need to turn, he could sense Mark at his back, the mounting discomfort, here was a problem to which he had no solution.

Back quad, front quad, the chapel. And it was just as Jack had said, a set of stairs leading up to the organ loft, a small window. As Jolyon climbed through the window, he heard Mark reach the top of the stairs. ‘Just how far are you planning to take this, Jolyon?’

There was a thin space between the roof of Great Hall and its parapet wall. Jolyon jumped down. ‘All the way, Mark,’ he called out, ‘all the way. How about you?’

Jolyon made his way toward the tower. The roof was steep but there was a crust of dry lichen on the tiles that made the climb easier. And then from the apex of Great Hall, Jolyon heaved himself onto the tower roof.

Mark rested his hands on his knees after he pulled himself up there. They were both out of breath and Mark looked even more confused than before. ‘OK then,’ he said, ‘so what now?’

Jolyon crossed to the other side of the roof and faced out onto back quad. He leaned over the edge, the parapet wall queasily short where he stood, and saw beneath him the flagpole stripped for the night. It was a warm evening and in the pale light breaking from the windows he could make out a small group of people smoking and drinking on the grass below. ‘Good,’ thought Jolyon. And then he called out over his shoulder, ‘Did we say ten seconds, or did we say twenty, Mark?’

‘This is ridiculous,’ said Mark. ‘OK, you said twenty. But it doesn’t matter, you’re not actually going through with it, we both know that.’

‘Twenty it is then.’

‘What’s the point of this, Jolyon?’

Jolyon spoke slowly, a broad spacing between solemn words. ‘Do you agree to the game, Mark?’

‘Fine then, Jolyon,’ said Mark, rubbing his face in his hands, ‘go ahead.’

‘Excellent,’ said Jolyon. He put one of his feet up on the short wall, leaned against his knee and gazed out like a tourist. The tower wall had been constructed as decorative battlements and Jolyon tapped the taller block beside him. ‘Do you know what these higher parts are called?’ he said, but Mark didn’t reply. ‘The taller parts of battlements are called merlons and these lower parts of the wall, the gaps, they’re the crenels.’ The crenels were only shin-high. Jolyon lifted his other foot so they were now both on the wall. He stood there rocking precariously on the balls of his feet as he breathed deeply into the night. ‘What do you think, Mark? Twenty-five metres from the top of the merlon, or from down here on the crenel?’

‘Jolyon, I know you think you can walk on fucking water but not even you believe you can fly. So just tell me the trick and let’s get down from here.’

‘I told you, Mark, there’s no trick,’ said Jolyon. ‘And I don’t need to fly in order to beat you. In fact, I don’t even need to jump. Because you’re going to pull out before it goes that far. You see, all I need to do is call out your name as I fall. Two and a quarter seconds, you said? That should be plenty of time.’ Jolyon looked at his watch – ‘Maaaa-aaaaa-rk–’ moving his head to its tick. ‘So even if you can live with my death on your conscience, there are plenty of witnesses down there. And when the police arrive and hear whose name I was calling out . . . and then someone’s bound to tell them about the excerpts from my diary being posted round college. Even if no one has actually seen you doing it, I’m sure there’ll be something forensics can find.’ Jolyon pulled out a cigarette, lit it and blew. ‘However, if at any point you want me not to jump, just say the word, Mark. Oh, which means you lose the game, remember. We did agree that if either one of us pulls out, it’s a forfeit.’

Mark started to laugh. ‘Brilliant, Jolyon,’ he said, ‘I mean, that’s really very impressive. Except for one thing. Your grand plan to defeat me is based entirely on a false assumption. That I somehow believe you might jump.’