TEN #2
Across the water, Risk Lodge was a huge dark shadow standing proudly against the tree line, watching over the driveway.
He didn’t answer straight away. And then, almost as if he was speaking to the loch itself, ‘I’ve always known. Even when I didn’t know I knew.’
It was hard to put into words, but even though this was only my second time visiting, Risk Estate made me feel safe. As if it had been waiting all these years for someone to come along and take shelter behind the safety of the gates.
‘It feels like a special place here, ‘I said quietly.
‘It is,’ replied Oliver.
We stood side by side for a couple of minutes, listening to the whisper of the wind, the glug of the loch, and somewhere in the distance, muffled by the snow, Noah and Paddy chattering away.
‘We should get back,’ said Oliver eventually. ‘I’ll show you around properly tomorrow.’
‘Thanks. I’d like that.’
He went to turn and then paused, looking at me. ‘You feel it too? Here at the loch.’
I held his gaze and nodded. ‘Yeah. I feel it too.’
We walked back to the lodge where Paddy and Noah had set the fire and got it lit.
‘That should warm the place up now,’ said Paddy, adjusting the vents on the wood burner. ‘There’s plenty of cloud cover tonight, so hopefully it won’t be too cold.’
‘I’m not cold,’ said Noah. ‘I’m like Dad.’
‘Is that right?’ said Paddy. ‘Me and your dad have been in some cold-arse places in our time.’
‘You were both in the army together?’ I asked, settling myself down onto the sofa and drawing my legs up under me.
‘We were in the Marines together,’ said Oliver.
‘Green berets? That makes you both tough guys.’
‘Maybe in our day,’ said Oliver with a sigh. ‘We’re past our prime in that respect.’
‘Past our prime?’ said Paddy with mock indignation. ‘You speak for yourself, Boss.’
‘In Marine terms,’ said Oliver. ‘At thirty-nine, I’m not exactly top of my A-Game.’
A sudden thought flashed through my mind that Oliver Laker looked very much on top of his A-Game. I realised he was looking at me. I quickly switched my gaze to the fire.
Noah scuffed his way across the room. ‘I’m bored,’ he said.
‘Why don’t you read your book?’ suggested Oliver.
‘I don’t want to read.’
‘What about drawing?’ I said. ‘I’m sure I’ve got a pencil in my bag if you can find some paper.’
Noah pulled a face, which clearly said he wasn’t that bothered.
‘You can always clean my boots,’ said Oliver.
He looked over at me and winked.
That man should not be allowed to wink at women.
‘You can clean mine while you’re at it,’ said Paddy.
‘That’s boring.’ Noah pressed his face up against the glass of the window. ‘Can I go outside and build a snowman?’
‘I don’t know about that, mate,’ said Oliver. ‘It’s dark and cold out there.’
‘I’ve got my gloves and hat,’ replied Noah. ‘Just for a little while, please?’
‘All right. But just for ten minutes and stay on the porch. There’s plenty of snow built up there.’
‘Yes!’ Noah darted out of the front door.
I looked up at Oliver.
He held up his hands. ‘I know. I’m a soft touch when it comes to that boy.’
‘That’s not a bad thing,’ I said with a smile.
‘Coffee?’ asked Paddy from across the room, where he was filling the kettle.
‘I’ll do it,’ said Oliver. ‘I’ll make Noah a hot chocolate.’
A few minutes later, the hot drinks were made, and the cabin had heated up nicely. As I sipped my drink, I felt warm both inside and out. This was a good move. It had come at the right time, too.
Oliver finished his drink. ‘I’ll get Noah in now.’ He went over and opened the front door. ‘Time to come in, Noah. Hot chocolate’s ready.’ He stepped out on the porch, and a cold rush of air swirled around the cabin. ‘Noah? Noah, where are you? Noah!’
I noted the anxiety in his voice immediately and put my cup down, exchanging a look with Paddy.
‘Fuck,’ muttered Paddy.
Simultaneously, we both hurried to put our boots back on. I grabbed my coat and Oliver’s as I dashed out the door.
‘Grab me a flashlight,’ ordered Oliver.
Paddy came out, already anticipating the request and passed us both a torch each.
‘Footprints,’ I said.
‘They’re all over the fucking place,’ said Oliver. ‘Paddy, you go around the back. Alex, you come with me, we’ll split up at the loch.’
He was already moving before he finished his sentence, and I ran to catch up with him.
The boy had definitely been out here, but he had zig-zagged about amongst our earlier footprints, and the snow that had started falling a few minutes earlier, was already covering the tracks.
It was dark, and the wind was shifting clouds across the moon and blowing the spindly and crooked branches of the trees about. Oliver was running now. I broke into a run too.
I caught him at the edge of the lake, where it was stony and no footprints to follow.
‘You go that way. I’ll go this way,’ I said, not waiting for Oliver to agree, and began running along the shoreline, calling out Noah’s name.
I could hear Oliver doing the same, his voice trailing away as the distance between us increased.
The moon broke cover from the clouds, and as I looked up, I could see a small wooden pontoon stretching out over the loch. And there was the black silhouette of a young boy, rolling the most enormous snowball along the wooden planks.
‘Noah!’ I shouted, but the wind took my voice away. ‘Oliver!’
Maybe the wind would carry my voice back to wherever Oliver was.
I reached the end of the pontoon and called out the boy’s name again, but he was head down, hat pulled over his ears as he concentrated on rolling his snowball.
I slowed down, catching my breath, relieved that I’d found him.
I pointed my torch in Oliver’s direction and clicked it on and off. Morse code.
NOAH. HERE.
I repeated it several times, and then I saw the flash of a torch beam.
R.
Morse shorthand for message received or Roger. Oliver had received and understood my signal.
I picked my way along the pontoon, which was slippery. The ice made it even more treacherous underfoot. I looked up and could just make out the figure of Oliver, running back along the shoreline towards us, the torch beam bouncing with his step.
He called out Noah’s name. His deep voice sliced through the wintry air, commanding in a way mine couldn’t hope to match. Noah stood up, pushing his hat up from his eyes and turning around to see who’d called him. He spotted his dad and then me.
He was still several metres away down the other end of the pontoon.
He waved his hand but somehow lost his balance or his footing––I wasn’t sure which.
I watched him take a steadying step back, but it was into thin air.
His foot missed the pontoon altogether. His arms waved like windmill sails as he stood in that precariously perfectly balanced moment.
He let out a scream and then disappeared over the edge. There was a splash and a faint cry. My blood turned to ice, and a primal fear gripped my chest as I watched the dark water swallow him.