Chapter 38
SCARLETT
I stare out of the annexe window across the lake.
It looks so inviting. God, I want to be in that water.
Not only for some temporary relief from this unrelenting heat, but also because I do my best thinking in the water.
By the time I leave, I always see things differently.
It clears my head. I check my watch. Hattie is due to wake up in forty minutes.
That’s plenty of time for a satisfying swim.
Justin said not to swim in there, but I’ll be OK.
I’m a strong swimmer and have swum in lakes with reeds before.
I dig out my scrunched-up costume from the corner of my cabin bag.
Once changed, I hunt for my goggles and earplugs – two accessories I never swim without.
I caught an infection once when some debris got into my ear during a triathlon.
It dragged on for weeks afterwards. Never again.
I throw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.
After grabbing a towel from the bathroom, I pause as my hand reaches for the door handle.
I should check on Hattie before heading out.
Upstairs, I walk across the landing to Hattie’s bedroom.
The house is quiet apart from the ticking of a large clock on the wall in the middle of the landing.
I open the door. She is still sleeping soundly, exactly where I left her.
The stillness of her body doesn’t feel right.
I step inside the room and walk over to her, relieved to see the covers rise and fall.
Leaving the silence of the house, I make my way to the lake. Blue trots by my side. ‘Wanna come for a swim, Bluey boy?’ I gently stroke his back. ‘I bet it’ll help you cool off.’
The lake is still and inviting. Steps lead down from a jetty into the water.
On the opposite side, a small rowing boat floats by the bank.
I can’t wait to dive in. Blue follows me to the end of the jetty, where I kick off my flip-flops.
I take off my shorts and T-shirt and fit my earplugs.
Blue sits rigid and gives a low growl. ‘What’s wrong? ’ I ask. He doesn’t respond.
Bending down, I submerge my goggles in the lake to rinse the lenses.
The reeds at the water’s edge stand tall and taut, their reflection cutting through the calm.
I look behind me at the house, suddenly aware that Hattie could wake up.
But then, both Beth and Justin said her two-hour afternoon nap was as predictable as the number of times she asks after Harold every day.
I position the goggles on my head. ‘See you soon, Blue.’
I bypass the steps and dive in. The cold of the water shocks the breath out of me.
Instantly, I cool off. I gently breaststroke to the middle of the lake, away from the reeds, and break into a front crawl, breathing every three strokes.
Every second breath, I glance at a fixed point on the horizon – a large, gnarled English oak – to keep me in a straight line.
The water is so translucent. It reminds me of the Cambridge triathlon Daisy and I competed in as teens.
It was as hot as this, and Mum brought Granny. We hit personal bests that day.
My thoughts drift, the photo of Daisy and Justin clear in my mind, as clear as the water around me.
It could be innocent. After all, numerous photos of him with other young women in similar poses are pinned to those boards.
Surely Beth must know what he’s like. Maybe she’s one of these women who turns a blind eye.
After all she’s endured, how can she fight him?
My rhythmic stroke keeps me centred over the deepest part of the lake. Between breaths, I stare down at the reeds reaching up towards me. They are nowhere near the surface and are hardly a cause for concern.
One… two… three… breathe. One… two… Something disturbs my rhythm.
I stop mid-stroke, my face still planted in the water.
What was that? My heart hammers as I anchor my body and dip below the surface.
What appears to be floating sacks are suspended in the water.
One. Two. I turn around, my arms sweeping through the water.
Three. Four. I can’t work out what they are.
I thrash my body upwards to the surface and gasp for air.
Blue lets out a low moan that cuts through the air and echoes around the grounds.
I shake my head, telling myself I must’ve imagined what’s just happened.
But I know what I saw. I need to go back down.
Sucking in a deep breath, I plummet into the depths of the lake.
The water grows colder the further down I go. Bubbles escape from my nose.
Bags are tied to individual ropes, anchored to the bed of the lake by some sort of weight.
I reach for the nearest sack. I fumble for the top of the thick zip and pull. Bubbles rush from my mouth in a silent scream. A young woman’s greenish face appears inches from my eyes. Her blonde hair is fanned out, her skin split across her cheeks, and her lips are no longer there.
I panic to escape, struggling to reach the surface of the water. A fuzziness overcomes me at the lack of air and the effort. As my face breaks the water, I throw my head back and gasp to fill my lungs.
My breath fogs the goggles. The need to get away is all-consuming.
I need the police. Frantically, I swim to the jetty.
Hattie will have to fend for herself. My arms flail, my body unable to coordinate my stroke.
Exhausted, I grab the steps, pausing briefly for breath.
I find my footing on the bottom step and heave myself upwards.
But as my head rises above the level of the decking, I let out a loud scream.
A pair of men’s shoes face me right at eye level.