No one had ever believed him, that one summer evening he had wandered on to the docks, under the legs of the biggest crane, and climbed the steel ladder, up, up, and up into the swaying heights of the counterweights and control house.
The view over the city had been inspiring — the smoking derelict docklands, with miles of kingfisher — walled warehouses; the sun-tinted towers of distant churches; the cars, like insects, creeping one after the other along expressway. Clinging to the drifting girders, he felt like the most successful man in the world.
66. ______
It was so perfect that he could do it. He stood up, balancing against the breeze, feeling on top of the world. Slowly he raised his hands above his head, cast a glance upwards into the icy sky, then, just before he lost his balance, he chose to rise on tiptoe and launch himself into a taut dive. He tipped off the jib and began to tilt through the sunset.
The sound which came from him was an involuntary shrink of pure joy—he cared neither if he lived nor if he died. His body, pointed like a shuttle, wove a slow circle through the air, hurtling ever downwards to the peaky grey surface.
67. ______
The shock of the water stopping his flight, and of the vicious cold, prevented him from realising immediately that he was still alive. His clothing dragged in the dark water and he started to fight his way upward to the dull light above. Disbelieving and stunned, he gasped as he broke the surface, returning to an almost unchanged peachy evening.
The impetus of his dive still with him, he floundered in his shoes and jacket to the nearest quayside ladder and clambered up the vertical green wall. Once on the quay, he squeezed the edges of his jacket and emptied his shoes. He looked up to the monstrous structure towering above him and scarcely believed that he'd actually dived from that threadlike piece of lattice-work.
68. ______
Consequently, when he told anyone he'd dived off the biggest of the dockland cranes into the Clyde, and just for fun, no one believed him.
69. ______
But this time he was afraid. The metal seemed hostile as he hand-over handed his way up. The evening was still and thundery He had to get it over. Below, the river lay like sheet steel.
The angle of the jib was changed automatically along the arm until he reached the end. He could barely make out their pinpoint pale faces, upturned. He just wanted to get it over. Careless, he repeated the movements of the first time, toppling headfirst towards the grey below. He felt no inclination to make a sound, not even when he realized there was no reflection expanding to meet him.
70. ______
Two weeks later, a fifteen-foot fence with angled rows of barbed wire at the top prevented further unauthorised access to the crane.
A. His last thought was, "They'll still never believe me, damn it."
B. He crawled, monkey-fashion along the steel lacework of the jib until he crouched, hundreds of feet up, above the wrinkling khaki river. A flock of sunstruck pigeons whorled in harmony around the control house roof.
C. So, tonight, he'd told them to come and watch him do it again.
D. Yet, he was certainly soaking and he remembered the exhilaration of his descent. He looked around to see if there had been any witnesses to his dive. The docks remained silent and deserted as rustcoloured sunlight flooded the area.
E. By chance, his dive had him angled perfectly to enter the water with a splashless "gulp" at some dangerously high speed.
E He took a last look at the city where he had lived more than 20 years.