Joan Wolf (19 page)

He didn’t answer, just stood there watching me. I gathered up the green skirt of my summer morning dress and stepped into the boat. It rocked under my feet, and I reached out blindly, trying to find something to balance myself with. Stephen’s hand caught mine and held me steady.

“Just sit down, Annabelle,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”

Still holding tightly to his hand, I cautiously lowered myself to the wooden plank that formed the main seat of the boat. Stephen stepped in after me, balanced himself easily as he fitted the oars into the oarlocks, then sat next to me and pushed away from the dock.

“I really do not like boats,” I muttered as we moved smoothly away from the shore.

“
I
like boats,” Giles informed us. He was sitting with his back to the front, facing us.” May I row, too, Uncle Stephen? “

Stephen’s “In a little while” clashed with my
“No,
Giles.”

Giles stuck out his lower lip. “Why not, Mama?”

“Because no one is going to stand up and change places in this boat as long as I am in it,” I said.

“But—” Giles began.

“I mean it, Giles,” I said.

We had been out on the water for perhaps fifteen minutes, and I was just beginning to relax, when the boat started to leak. The first indication I had that we were in trouble was the sudden chill wetness of my feet. I looked down and saw that they were reposing in at least two inches of water.

“Stephen,” I said tensely, “the boat is leaking.”

“I noticed,” he said. He was rowing strongly. “I’m taking us in.”

“I told you not to come so far out,” I said as I gauged the distance to shore. It was too far away.

He continued to row and didn’t reply.

“ The water is coming in
fast,
Mama,” Giles said.

It was now up to my ankles.

“Stephen?” I said.

“See if you can find the hole, Annabelle, and stuff it with something.”

I immediately slid to my knees on the floor of the boat and began to feel around.

“I think it’s here, Uncle Stephen,” Giles said. He was looking at the floor on the other side of his seat. “One of the boards is sticking up.”

“Can you push it down, Giles?” Stephen said. His voice was very calm. “Put your foot over it.”

Giles scrambled to do as Stephen had asked.

“I am, Uncle Stephen,” he said in a small, frightened voice. “But the water is coming in anyway.”

The water in the boat was now up to our knees, and no matter how hard Stephen rowed, the boat was scarcely moving.

It was my worst nightmare come true.

“Stephen,” I said, trying to keep the panic inside me from sounding in my voice, “Giles can’t swim.”

Stephen pushed the useless oars out of his way and said, “This is what we are going to do. First I will swim to shore with Giles. Annabelle, you are going to have to keep yourself afloat until I can come back for you.”

I searched his face. I knew that Stephen could swim, but what he was suggesting seemed impossible. “Can you get Giles in as well as yourself? “ I asked.

“Yes. I did a great deal of swimming in Jamaica. I will take Giles in and come back for you.” His blue eyes commanded me. “You can swim a little, Annabelle. Remember?”

When we were children I had sometimes paddled in the water, imitating the dogs. I had no idea if I could keep afloat for more than a few minutes. I said, “Of course I remember.”

The boat was slowly sinking.

Stephen said, “Giles, you must lie very still, with your head on my shoulder, and I will swim you to shore. You must not struggle or you might sink us both. Do you understand?”

Giles said in a frightened voice, “We can’t leave Mama, Uncle Stephen.”

“I will come back for her, Giles, I promise. Now, are you ready? “

Giles looked at me.

“I will be all right, Giles,” I said firmly. “Please, do as Uncle Stephen says.”

“A-all right,” Giles whispered.

I looked back at Stephen. “Float on your stomach, Annabelle,” he said. “Let your face rest in the water and lift it only when you need to breathe. Kick your feet a little.”

“Yes,” I said.

We looked at each other.

“Just don’t panic,” he said. “You’ll be all right as long as you don’t panic.”

I nodded. “Take care of Giles for me.”

We were all standing now as the boat was slowly sinking beneath the water.

“Tie the skirt of that dress around your waist so you can kick,” Stephen said, and, cupping his hand under Giles’s chin, he pushed away from the boat and began to swim.

I had just enough time to do as he said before the boat completely disappeared from beneath my feet and I was left to stay afloat on my own.

The lakewater felt very cold as it closed over my shoulders. I kicked my feet and paddled my hands as fast as I could and managed to hold my head up out of the water long enough to see Stephen moving smoothly toward the shore, with Giles’s small head braced against his shoulder.

Giles would be safe.

Thank you, God, I prayed. Then I turned my attention to myself.

I knew I could not keep up this kicking and paddling for very long; it was too tiring. I remembered what Stephen had said about resting my face in the water, but every instinct I possessed was telling me that if I put my face in the water, I would drown.

I swallowed some water and kicked and paddled frantically trying to stay afloat.

Don’t panic, Annabelle, I told myself firmly. Whatever you do, don’t panic.

Float on your stomach, Stephen had said. Only lift your face when you need to breathe.

I filled my lungs with air, shut my eyes and my mouth tightly, put my face into the water and lay still.

My legs began to sink.

Don’t panic, Annabelle. Kick. Keep your face in the water and kick.

I did this and my legs floated upward. I paddled with my hands for a minute, lifted my face, and took another breath. I put my face back in the water.

I can do this. It’s easier to stay on top of the water if I’m not trying to hold up my head. I can keep this up until Stephen comes back.

I never doubted that he would come back. I was out on the lake for what seemed to be hours, and I was very, very frightened. But I didn’t panic. I kept on floating and breathing because I knew that eventually Stephen would come back.

His hand on my shoulder announced his arrival. I lifted my head and swallowed some water. “Your turn,” he said, gripped me, and turned me until I was lying on my back with my head pillowed on his shoulder. Then we began to move toward the shore.

He was tired. I could feel the effort in his muscles, and I kept as still as I could. Even when the water washed over my face, as it did occasionally, I didn’t struggle. Slowly, laboriously, the shore drew closer.

Finally Stephen gasped, “We can stand up here,” and released me.

The solid feel of the lake bottom beneath my feet was one of the most beautiful things I had ever known.

“Mama! Mama!”
Giles was screaming at me from the shore. He ran into the water as if he would come out to meet me.

“Stay where you are, Giles,” I called back to him in a hoarse, breathless voice. “I’m coming in.” And I began to stagger toward the shore.

Giles remained where he was, in chest-deep water, until I reached him. Then he wrapped his arms around my waist, clung to me tightly, and began to sob.

I rocked back and forth with him. “It’s all right, darling,” I kept saying. “It’s all over now. We’re safe. Thanks to Uncle Stephen, we’re safe.”

Finally, when the storm was spent and Giles was able to command himself again, the both of us tottered out of the lake and collapsed beside Stephen on the shore.

He was lying on his back, his knees bent, one arm outstretched and the other flung across his eyes to shade them from the sun. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession as he drew shallow gulps of air into his exhausted lungs.

I put my hand over his heart and felt its heavy hammering right through his soaked shirt. “Thank God you can swim,” I said, leaving my hand where it was.

“One other ... (pant) ... useful thing I ... (pant) ... learned in Jamaica.”

“Dear God, Stephen,” I said. “Dear God.”

He lifted his arm from his face. His blue eyes looked up at me from between spiked wet lashes. He said, “Thank God you don’t panic.”

I could feel his skin through his soaking wet shirt, could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he took the precious air into his overworked lungs. His hand closed over mine and he said, “Annabelle, we have to talk.”

“Yes.” My voice was shaking.

A small voice said, “Mama, I’m cold.”

The sun was hot. “It’s a reaction,” Stephen said. “My coat is in the fishing pavilion. Wrap him up in that and let’s get him home.”

Chapter Thirteen

The three of us attempted to slip unnoticed into the house, but before we could reach the side door we ran into Jasper, Jack, Nell, and Miss Stedham, all of whom were setting out for the stables. We might have managed to avoid them, but as soon as Giles saw Miss Stedham he called out, “Genie! Wait till you hear what happened! I almost drowned!”

The four of them looked our way, so we had to continue along the path. Their shocked expressions told us exactly how horrific we must have appeared. Stephen, who had been carrying Giles, set him on his feet, removed the coat in which he was wrapped, and handed it to me with the brief comment, “Put it on.”

I slid my arms into the sleeves and wrapped its length around my damp frock, achieving at least a modicum of modesty, I hoped. My hair was hanging down my back, and I pulled it out from under the coat in order to get the wet mass away from my skin.

Jasper was staring at me. “Good God, Annabelle!” he exclaimed. “What happened?”

Miss Stedham knelt in front of Giles, so that their faces were on a level, and asked with genuine concern, “Are you all right, Giles?”

Giles nodded. “Uncle Stephen saved me, Genie. He saved Mama, too.”

Nell’s shocked intake of breath was clearly audible.

Jasper repeated his question: “For God’s sake, what happened? “

“The boat sank while we were in it,” Stephen replied.

There was a moment of stunned silence. The water in the rose garden fountain dripped steadily in the background.

“It sank?” Nell echoed. “Do you mean all the way?”

“Yes,” Stephen said.

“To the bottom?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my God.”

A few strands of my hair had dried and were falling over my forehead and cheeks, tickling me. I pushed up the sleeves of Stephen’s coat so that they wouldn’t cover my hands and tried to brush my hair off my face. Jasper watched this maneuver, his face a study in absorbed fascination.

Jack said, “How far out were you?”

“Much too far, Jack,” I replied firmly.

“Uncle Stephen swimmed me in first and then he swimmed back for Mama,” Giles said.

Miss Stedham felt the wetness of Giles’s clothes, stood up, and said, “I’ll take him up to the nursery, get him into dry clothes, and give him some hot soup, my lady.”

“Thank you, Miss Stedham,” I said.

The governess took Giles’s hand into her own. “What an adventure you have had, Giles! I am dying to hear all about it. Come along upstairs and you can tell me everything that happened.”

Giles looked at me and said, “Will you come, too, Mama? “

“I’ll come as soon as I change my own clothes,” I promised.

He went off with Miss Stedham, leaving the rest of us facing each other on the stable pathway.

Jack’s eyes raked me up and down, and I was very glad I had the protection of Stephen’s coat. “What in the name of God were you doing in a boat, Annabelle?” he demanded. “I thought you hated boats.”

“Giles was going to try out his new fishing pole and I went along to watch,” I replied. “Needless to say, no one will ever get me into a boat again.”

“But what happened?” Nell repeated. “How on earth did the boat come to sink? “

“Apparently one of the boards in the bottom of the boat was loose and no one noticed it,” Stephen said, “It came up when we were out in the middle of the lake. The boat was swamped and it sank. I swam in with Giles and then went back for Annabelle.”

“Thank God the boat didn’t sink until you could get back for Annabelle,” Jasper said in an unusually harsh voice.

Stephen glanced at me, and I shook my head slightly. I said, “Much as I am enjoying this conversation, I am going to excuse myself so that I may change my clothes.”

“Actually,” Jack said with a gleam in his eyes, “you look rather tasty the way you are.”

“Your humor is badly misplaced, Jack,” Stephen said coldly.

Jack’s blond eyebrows lifted and he gave Stephen an appraising look.

“I will see you all at dinner,” I said, and squished off in the direction of the house.

* * * *

Adam was horrified when he learned of our accident, and he immediately made inquiries as to why no one had noticed that the boat wasn’t safe.

“It was used all day long at the festival and it never took on water,” he reported to me later in the day when he ran me to earth in the stable office, where I was going over the feed charts for my hunters. “It was just chance that that particular boat was the one left in the water while the others were put back into the fishing pavilion. No one realized that one of the bottom planks was loose.”

“The whole plank came up suddenly, Uncle Adam,” I said. “It was almost as if someone had loosened it, the way it gave all at once.”

He frowned. “Surely, Annabelle, you don’t think that it was done deliberately? “

“I wonder if some of the boys who were out on the lake yesterday might have thought it would be a lark to try to sink one of the boats,” I said. I put down the pen I was holding and gave Adam my full attention. “It wouldn’t have been so dangerous if it had happened yesterday, when there were other boats in the water and plenty of people on the shore. It was just bad luck that the plank held until today, when there was no one available to attempt a rescue.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Adam said slowly. “I can assure you that I had all the boats inspected before the festival, and there were no problems reported with any of them.” He shifted his weight on the narrow chair that was the office’s only other seating besides the desk chair I was using. “I have always thought that the men I assigned to check the boats were reliable.”