TWENTY-FIVE
NOT A POOL PARTY
Alex
I arrived back at Risk feeling more frustrated and demoralised than I had in a long time.
I really thought I’d had it sorted. That I could handle Henderson.
I’d got that wrong. So very wrong. I was confident Oliver would be able to weather the storm of an inquiry.
I had no doubt he had a clean record, and that Henderson was bluffing.
I was also aware that I was making a decision for Oliver.
Was I doing exactly what I had asked him not to do for me?
Then there was the threat to Noah. I couldn’t ignore that. And what could I say? Henderson would just deny it. I felt I was back to exactly where I was twenty-four hours ago. Trapped. Backed into a corner. Maybe even back to where I was two years ago. My word against his.
There was a difference this time, though.
Before, I didn’t have anyone to believe me.
I just needed to tell Oliver, didn’t I? But what then?
He’d want to know why I didn’t say anything straight away.
He was big on honesty and so far I had been anything but that.
Would he understand my reasons? If I explained it all fully, surely he’d know I was only trying to protect him and Noah.
The closer I got to the estate, the more confident I felt that would be the right move. Oliver would believe me over Henderson. He might be cross I hadn’t told him, but he’d believe me and that’s what mattered most.
As I pulled onto the estate, a sudden thought hit me. I’d been so stupid. I’d instigated the meeting with Henderson. I had purposefully taken the meeting off site. What was said, again, that was his word against mine. I had chosen a secret meeting in town. That did not look good for me.
I left the Land Rover in its space beside the gatehouse.
Dom’s Range Rover wasn’t there, and the space for the second staff Land Rover was also empty.
Henderson had probably taken it to get into town.
That would only back up my text message.
He would have planted enough of a seed beforehand so that he could say he’d booked the vehicle after I’d texted him.
‘Hey, Doc.’ I looked up. Grainger was coming towards the gatehouse. ‘You went shopping. Got those ingredients?’
‘Oh… I forgot.’
He laughed. ‘Scared of the challenge?’
‘Absolutely not. I’ll go over to Jez in the kitchen. I’m sure he can help me out.’
I headed over to the canteen barn where Jez was preparing lunch.
‘Alex. Oh, you’re empty-handed.’
‘Don’t you start. I’ve just had Grainger on at me. I totally forgot to pick up what I needed when I was in town.’
‘I thought that’s why you were going in,’ he said, cutting through a peeled potato and dropping it into a pot of water.
‘Yeah. Got distracted.’ I leaned on the counter. ‘You don’t fancy doing me a big favour?’
Jez eyed me. ‘What kind of favour?’
‘Can I raid the store cupboard? I’ll replace everything. It will just save me going back out.’
Jez gave a good-humoured eye roll. ‘You’ll get me sacked. But go on, then.’
‘Thanks, Jez. You’re a lifesaver.’
‘It better be worth it.’
I left the canteen barn ten minutes later with everything I needed for raspberry and white chocolate muffins.
I shut myself away in the lodge for the rest of the morning to make them.
I didn’t particularly fancy going to lunch but decided not turning up would look more suspicious than turning up.
Besides, I needed to show Henderson I wasn’t scared. Or at least let him believe I wasn’t.
Everyone was already sitting at the table when I went over. Dom was there too. I put the tray of still-warm muffins down in the middle. ‘Someone told me you had a weakness for white chocolate, Grainger.’
‘And who might that snake be?’ Grainger pointed his fork around the table.
‘I was chatting to Naomi, as it happens,’ I said. ‘Apparently, she knows all about your sweet tooth.’
I had bumped into Naomi as I’d parked the car, and she’d asked me about Grainger. We’d got onto the subject of what I was doing in town, and she’d given me a little nugget of information that I knew would be great ammo.
The lads laughed. Grainger scowled. I smiled innocently.
‘So, how are things with Naomi?’
‘There are no things with Naomi,’ said Grainger. ‘And I don’t need you stirring the pot.’
‘Who knew Risk would be Scotland’s answer to Love Island?’ said Matty.
We all laughed. Except Grainger.
‘Don’t know what the fuck you’re on about but I’m sure it deserves me telling you to fuck off.’
More laughter.
‘Naomi sends her love anyway,’ I called back over my shoulder as I went up to the counter to collect my plate.
I returned to the table, deliberately sitting next to Grainger even though there was space on the other side, next to Henderson.
I was fairly sure Dom clocked the move. Or maybe I was just being paranoid.
‘Apart from Naughty Naomi, how was your trip into town?’ asked Matty.
I ignored Grainger’s threat of a clip around the ear if Matty said that again but still grinned across at him. We all knew the Naughty Naomi nickname was going to stick.
‘Town? All good. Nice to get out and see some different faces for a change.’
‘I hear the café in the square does really nice coffee,’ said Henderson. ‘Cakes as well. Have you been there, Alex?’
My shoulders tensed involuntarily. I didn’t look at him. ‘Yeah, I have actually. And yes, the coffee is good. Although today, it tasted bitter.’
How I was managing to keep a civil conversation going, I did not know.
‘See anyone you know there?’ said Henderson.
I knew exactly what he was doing. He was forcing me to lie, and he would use it against me if needed.
‘There’s another café on the harbour front,’ said Dom. ‘The Sugar Spoon. Now they do excellent coffee.’
I appreciated the deflection more than I could say. ‘Thanks for the tip. I’ll go there next time.’
‘These muffins are fucking delicious,’ said Smithy as he chomped his way through one. ‘You could sell these.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ said Grainger.
He pushed his empty plate away and picked up a muffin. Then, carefully inspected it, testing the bottom, smelling it, and unwrapping it before cutting into it with a knife.
‘He thinks he’s on the Bake Off,’ said Smithy.
‘I can’t imagine anyone less suitable for TV,’ I said.
‘I’ll have you know I was hot property in my day,’ said Grainger.
‘And how long ago was your day?’ I said.
At this point, Grainger had a mouthful of cake and couldn’t answer. We all waited while he swallowed.
‘Not bad,’ he said.
I laughed. ‘I’ll take that as a win.’
The conversation for the rest of the meal carried on in good spirits.
I did like banter. I missed that from the army.
I missed the camaraderie. Working in stressful situations galvanised a team.
Gave people a sense of belonging, a sense of family.
Oliver would be pleased, and I made a mental note to tell him.
After lunch, I changed into my running gear. Probably wasn’t the best time to exercise, but I hadn’t had the appetite for much, and I needed to move. To think. The four walls of the lodge were closing in, and the muffin-making had only done so much to ease my tension.
I took the path that ran along the edge of the loch, the cold air sharp in my lungs.
Good. I needed that. Something to concentrate on other than the conversation with Henderson at the café playing on a loop in my head.
His words, “good girl” made my skin crawl.
I pushed the pace.
The question I kept circling back to was the same one as before. Should I tell Oliver?
I ran through the arguments. Henderson would deny everything. Telling Oliver meant explaining everything, not just today, not just the incidents at Risk, but all of it. Two years ago. What Henderson did. What happened afterwards.
I wasn’t ready for that.
I pushed the pace back up, ignoring the niggle of cramp in my side. I’d run it off. I focused on the physical exertion, giving my mind a break.
As I neared the wellness suite, the cramp in my side had not disappeared. If anything, it was worse. A swim might be a better option, and the lure of warm water and gentle exercise was too tempting to resist.
I’d already left my swim bag in my office when I’d been over sorting out my desk the other day.
I could see through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that the gym was empty, and I poked my head in at the swimming pool. That was empty too. Perfect.
Five minutes later, I was in my swimsuit and stepping into the water. It was like getting into a warm bath after being out in the cold.
I lay back in the water, stretched my limbs, and floated. The water lapped in my ears, muffling the pool pump and deadening my hearing. I closed my eyes. Just floated. I could feel my mind relaxing. Thinking of nothing. Only aware of the sense of weightlessness, not just in body but in mind too.
Then I turned onto my front and front-crawled to the end of the pool, turned and swam to the other end.
Not rushing. No hard pumping of the muscle like when I was running.
This was a different kind of decompression.
It was something about the water, it was as if it could filter all the stress out of the system, replacing it with refreshed energy that presented itself as peace.
I did several more laps, losing myself in empty thoughts. Cleansing my mind. Then I turned over onto my back and floated again.
As I did, my mind inevitable did drift to Oliver and a slow realisation washed over me. I’d been wrong about not wanting to tell him about Henderson. He had a right to know. What I felt was not his problem. I had no right to make that decision for him.
But it wasn’t only that. I actually wanted to tell him about everything.
Not because I had to. Not because I’d run out of options.
But because I wanted to. Because the thought of Oliver knowing, really knowing, didn’t feel like exposure.
It felt like something entirely different.
I wasn’t quite sure what name to give it.
Maybe that was the bit that frightened me most.
I don’t know what made me open my eyes and look up, but something did. I gasped at the sight of Henderson standing on the other side of the glass, staring at me.
I froze as every ounce of tranquillity vanished in a second, replaced with a vulnerability I hadn’t felt for a long time. It was his eyes. The way he looked at me. The curve of his mouth as he smiled.
I looked for my towel. It was on the other side of the pool, hanging on the rail just outside the changing rooms.
I began to move through the water. I needed to get to my towel. Wrap myself up. Cover myself.
I looked back at the glass. Henderson wasn’t there.
Then I heard the door open, and he appeared from the changing room. Fully clothed.
The smile was still there. He looked at my towel and then picked it up.
‘Is this what you want?’
I was halfway out of the water, my hand on the rail of the shallow-end steps. I stopped. Acutely aware that he was looking at me. Not just my face. But all of me. His gaze made a slow tour down and back up. I might just as well have been naked.
My hand gripped the rail even tighter. My breathing was fast and shallow. Panic was setting in. My professional brain was registering the reactions. Short, fast breaths. Upper chest rather than diaphragm breathing. Leading to hyperventilation. Lack of oxygen. Dizziness.
Breathe in for four. Hold for four. Out for four. My vision blurred, and I closed my eyes. When I opened them, he was still there. Watching me like I was a case study.
‘Alex.’ His voice was soft, yet it felt harsh as it bounced off the floor and ceiling. ‘Alex? Are you all right?’
He took a step further along the railings towards the end, where it led onto the poolside.
‘Leave the towel there,’ I managed to say.
He kept on walking. Slowly. Intentionally.
I could feel his hands on my skin. His fingers in my hair. His mouth on mine. The smell of him. The smell of whisky. And yet he was on the other side of the railing. Not even within touching distance.
Breathe. Breathe.
I launched myself backwards into the water, clawing my way to the centre of the pool, away from the edge.
Henderson stopped once he reached the poolside and crouched down.
‘Come out of the water, Alex. There’s a good girl.’
The sound of the main door slamming shut and someone whistling caught both our attention at the same time.
Oh, thank God. Someone else was here.
I looked through the glass as Grainger appeared from down the hallway. He looked towards me. His eyes darted towards Henderson and back at me again.
Henderson stood up. ‘I’ll leave your towel there for you.’
Grainger disappeared out of sight and then, moments later, came through the changing room door.
‘Pool party?’ he said, picking up my towel as he came wet-side. He walked around Henderson. ‘Indoor shoes only, mate.’
Henderson looked down at his booted feet and then at Grainger’s. ‘You have special dispensation then?’
‘I do actually. Medical condition. On account of my recently busted ankle.’
He was at the steps now, holding the towel out for me.
I grabbed the towel as I came out of the water and wrapped it around me, holding it tight.
‘Thanks.’
‘Let’s give the doc some space then,’ said Grainger.
He made it clear he wasn’t moving until Henderson did.
‘Yeah. Sure,’ said Henderson. ‘Catch up with you later, Alex. That meal out you were on about, I’ll check my diary.’
He disappeared through the changing room doors.
Grainger looked at me. ‘Meal out?’
‘What do you think?’
I hurried past Grainger and into the changing room. My heart was still racing. I checked the cubicles and the toilet to make sure I was alone before wedging one of the chairs against the hallway door handle.
My whole body was shaking. Delayed shock. I’d seen it plenty of times. He had done that to me. I didn’t know whether to cry or punch something.
How dare he? How dare he?
I didn’t bother drying myself properly, just enough to get my clothes on and get out of there. Grainger was out in the hallway.
‘Your hair is soaking.’
‘I’ll dry it when I get back to my lodge.’
‘Doc, you can’t go out there with wet hair.’
I looked at him. ‘When did you become my mother?’
We left the wellness suite and marched back around the loch. Neither of us said anything, and I was grateful for his silence.