Deep Water, Thin Ice (24 page)

‘Look, I’m sorry if you’re offended but you were there for the cremation service. This time I wanted to do it alone.’

There was a strained pause before Erica replied in a small voice; ‘Well I can see that but I think you might have said.’

Ben was in bed and Erica and Alex were finishing decorating the Christmas tree in the drawing room. It was nearly midnight and they were nearing the end of a bottle of wine. Until Erica had gone up to Alex’s room to get some presents, they’d worked in companionable silence, hanging baubles and chocolate novelties, spreading tinsel and throwing icicles over the tree with childish abandon. But on her return she’d immediately asked about the missing casket.

‘Can we at least go to see where he’s buried?’ she said now.

‘Of course, if you want. But we have to fit it in with the tides so that we can cross the river when the water’s not too high. We’ll keep an eye on the weather and plan round it. I had thought Ben might like to go over that way anyway.’ She stepped back from the tree to consider it. ‘I think that’ll do don’t you? Lets put the presents round now and call it a day.’

They finished up and sat down with the last of the wine split between them.

‘So I’m going to get to meet your Theo at last,’ remarked Erica.

‘He’s not
my
Theo.’

‘No? You’re sure?’ she teased. ‘It’s OK Alex, I’m not going to make a big thing out of it. Actually I’m getting really curious to meet him. What’s he like?’

Alex looked at Erica suspiciously but her sister looked genuinely interested.

‘Well…he talks too much,’ she said with a grin. ‘But it’s usually interesting. He’s fun.’ She paused, considering. ‘You know he looks like Simon and some of his mannerisms are the same too but his passions are very different: he loves boats and the sea. And he’s more physical…’

‘Oooh.’

‘No, not like that. I mean he’s not a sitting down sort of person. He likes to be up and doing.’

‘Is he musical?’

Alex smiled.

‘Not really. And he prefers pop music to classical. Actually,’ she confided, ‘he can hardly hold a tune.’

‘And you like him.’ It was a statement more than a question.

‘And I like him.’

‘So why isn’t he coming for dinner tomorrow?’

‘Because I didn’t ask him. Anyway he wants to have dinner with his mother because she’s alone and I didn’t want to invite her here.’

‘You didn’t want to invite his mother? Why, what’s
she
like?’

Alex shrugged.

‘She’s all right.’

‘What does that mean:
all right
? You don’t like her?’

‘I didn’t say that.’ Alex sipped her wine. ‘She’s very distant – well sometimes she is. Sometimes she’s almost too friendly. I can’t make her out.’

Erica was looking at her disbelievingly.

‘OK, OK, she’s really odd if you must know,’ Alex added with a grin and they both laughed. ‘The problem is she likes her whisky too much if you ask me.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, but don’t tell Theo I said so,’ Alex added quickly. ‘He doesn’t talk about it. Anyway, as far as Christmas is concerned I wanted it to be just the three of us. And inviting them both over would make the whole thing too…significant.’

They both fell silent and Erica sighed and settled herself more comfortably into the chair. She looked round the room, at the newly decorated walls, the billowing curtains, and the fire burning brightly in the grate.

‘This room looks great. I’m beginning to understand why you might like it here.’ She paused and appeared to consider whether to say anything else, before adding: ‘And you do seem happier at last.’

Alex nodded. ‘I am. Now will you stop fretting over me?’

‘When I’ve seen Theo.’

Alex smiled and then hesitated. ‘I’m sorry Ricky for…you know…all those things I said back in July. I was cruel and I didn’t mean to be. I was…I don’t know…’ She shook her head, unable to explain how she had felt. ‘Really there’s no excuse. Forgive me? Anyway I
am
happier now, so please don’t worry over me so much.’

Erica nodded, looking sheepish.

‘I’m sorry too. I said some terrible stuff as well. I don’t know what got into us. But I’ve been…’ She shrugged and forced a smile. ‘Oh never mind. It’s nice to be together again. Let’s just put it all behind us shall we?’

‘Sure.’

They both drank some wine, looking thoughtful.

‘By the way,’ said Erica, ‘I know you’ve had a lot of work done on the house but is there still some problem in your room?’

Alex frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘When I went up there just now it was incredibly cold. I checked the radiator and it was hot but in one place I stood it was icy. I wondered if there’s something wrong with the window or something. Why are you looking at me like that?’

For years Christmas Day for Mick had been the same as any other day; Susie didn’t know the difference, no more did the birds or the hens or any other living creature he was likely to meet that day. But this year Alex’s present still sat where she’d put it on the table, beautifully wrapped in shiny paper, tied with a red ribbon and finished with a bow. He passed it several times a day, eyed it up, wondered about it. He’d picked it up once or twice, prodded it, turned it over and put it down again. It was something in a box, that much was obvious. But what was she thinking, buying him a present? He tried to ignore it and got on with his chores. When he’d finished, he made himself a bigger lunch than usual, cleared up, let Susie in and poured himself a beer. He handed Susie her present and smiled as she pulled the paper off with her teeth and retreated to a corner with the huge bone-shaped treat. Then he picked up his own parcel and slowly pulled the paper off to reveal a smart new pair of binoculars.

Pulling them out of the box, he turned them over, took the lens caps off and held them up to his eyes, focussing them at places around the room. Then he got up and walked to the window and directed them outside. They were good, sharp lenses, quality; expensive he guessed. He threw himself down into the chair and held them on his lap while he finished his beer, thinking. Susie came to lie beside his chair and he stretched a hand down to stroke her silky head.

He got up and put some music on then poured himself another beer. Back in his chair, he kept the binoculars on his lap and studied the compact disc case. It was a recording he’d bought the previous week, made some four years previously, of Schubert songs by Alexandra Munroe. He examined the list of contents and then flipped it back to stare at the photograph on the front. It was unmistakeably her and yet not the Alex he knew: a little fuller in the face, immaculately made up and groomed, her long hair cleverly coiled and fastened up. Her blue eyes looked directly at the camera, her lips bearing just the suspicion of an amused curl at the corners. He recognised the gaze but he preferred her when she was dressed in jeans, her hair loosely plaited, mud on her face where she’d pushed the errant strand out of her eyes. He put the case down, drank some beer, and then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Her voice was magical: spine-tinglingly clear and yet warm and vibrant.
It wasn’t his kind of music but he could listen to her all day. It sounded so effortless, so pure. You stupid, stupid girl, he thought. What are you doing holing yourself up here with me? A voice like that ought to be out there, being heard.

But she’s not with you, his inner voice replied. She’s with Theo Hellyon.

His eyes snapped open and he sat forward restlessly, picking up his beer. He downed the remains in one and got up to get another but Susie began to bark, a deep, warning sound, and Mick went cautiously across to the window and peered round the edge of the curtain. His view was obscured by rainwater streaming down the glass. He went to the door and opened it, releasing Susie who threw herself down the steps. By the time he got out himself she’d circled the intruder and was barking at him excitedly. It was Harry Downes, the old man who lived at the end of Harbour Row with his wife Minna. Mick sometimes saw them walking together, in the village or along the beach. Minna was one of the few people who made eye contact with him and exchanged a greeting while Harry sometimes spoke and sometimes looked right through him. Now here he was, wandering up to his door. After years of solitude, Mick kept having visitors.

‘Susie. Quiet,’ he commanded and she fell silent, panting. ‘Hello Harry. What are you doing here? You’re a long way from home. You’ll get soaked out there. You’d better come in.’

*

For Alex, Christmas didn’t work out the way she’d planned. Erica fell ill. There had been a stomach bug going round work apparently, but she’d come away thinking she’d escaped. Instead, she was running a temperature, had spent half the previous night in the bathroom and couldn’t get out of bed Christmas morning.

‘Better not come too close,’ she said to Alex who kept trying to help. ‘I’ll be OK.’ She rolled on her side, eyes closing. ‘I’m really sorry to mess everything up like this. I just need to sleep. Leave me to it and go and enjoy yourselves.’

Back downstairs, Alex made an effort for Ben, admired his presents, helped him find somewhere to set up his new microscope – a gift from Erica – and fielded a phone call from Victoria who was off on a cruise somewhere, saying as little as possible before handing the phone on to Ben. She and Ben ate dinner together - turkey for her, nut roast for him - at the little table in the snug while watching a documentary on dolphins on the television.

In the afternoon, after checking on Erica, they went down to Longcombe beach. Alex collected shells and Ben skimmed stones and they both scrambled over rocks and peered into pools for signs of life. Further up the beach they found a dead crab which Ben insisted on taking back to examine under his new microscope. By the evening Erica was less giddy and drank a little but stayed in bed while Alex and Ben watched Toy Story 2 and the Doctor Who special, eating tomato sandwiches and Christmas cake.

On Boxing Day, Erica was better but still couldn’t face getting up. In desperation to do something with the day which she knew Ben would think special, Alex cut some meat off one of the turkey legs and wrapped it in foil, told Ben to wear something warm and took him down to the reserve, explaining all about the Grenloe and its wildlife as they cut across the fields. It wasn’t until they reached the clearing that the first shadow of doubt crossed her mind and she wondered if she was doing the right thing, but she shrugged it off as Susie came to greet them, sure that Mick wouldn’t object to her own nephew visiting. And her decision felt vindicated when she saw how much pleasure Ben was already getting from playing with Susie; he’d always wanted a dog.

But it was obvious from Mick’s expression when he first saw them that he wasn’t happy. Alex he treated stonily as if she were someone he once knew but had fallen out with. For Ben he raised a taut smile and made an effort to be pleasant, explaining the nature of the place and then taking him to the hide and indicating what sorts of things to look for. ‘Your aunt knows all about it herself anyway,’ he said, flicking her a baleful look, ‘so she should be able to answer your questions. Excuse me, I’ve got things to do.’ Alex watched him go, frustrated and cross. She would have preferred frank annoyance to this forbidding resentment; at least she would have had a chance to argue the point.

A few minutes later, she left Ben staring out over the water and went to look for Mick. He was in the shed filling feeders with seed.

‘What’s the matter?’ she demanded.

‘What do you think’s the matter?’

‘Because I didn’t ask you before I brought him?’

‘Because you promised you wouldn’t tell anyone you came here or anything about it. Now you’re doing guided tours.’

‘But he’s my nephew, for God’s sake, not someone I dragged in off the street. And he’s obsessed with wildlife. He’ll love it here.’

‘I’ve got nothing against the boy. It’s you. I knew when I let you come that this would happen.’

‘You’re being absurd. What difference does it make…?’

‘Aunt Alex?’ Ben’s voice drifted through to them. He’d returned to the clearing. ‘Aunt Alex?’

‘I’m through here Ben.’

‘I’ve seen a bird with red legs,’ he said, joining them. He hesitated, glancing between them uneasily, a light frown puckering his brow. ‘Can you come and tell me what it is?’ he asked her.

Alex gave him a smile which she hoped suggested calm reassurance. ‘I’ll try. I should have brought my book.’ She waited for Mick to offer one of his own from the carriage but he said nothing and she began to follow Ben. She turned at the door, leaving him to go on ahead. ‘I brought some turkey for Susie,’ she said to Mick in a chill voice. ‘Is it OK to give it to her?’

Ben was barely out of earshot when Mick replied.

‘Would it make any difference if I said not?’

*

That evening, Erica finally got up and managed to eat a little. At the sight of her sister struggling to eat a boiled egg and a piece of bread, Alex suggested putting off Theo’s visit for the following day but Erica wouldn’t hear of it, insisting she’d be fine. ‘I want to meet him,’ she said indignantly. ‘Don’t you dare stop him coming.’ Then she wanted to know what they’d been doing and where they’d gone. Alex was relieved. This was more normal; she was obviously getting better.