Still Waters (19 page)

Hartley

“Hey,
are you ok?” Crew asks, looking down into my face, his eyebrows knitted in
concern.

“Yeah,
I’m fine,” I say quietly. I rub his arm to reassure him. He’s not buying it.

“No,
you’re not. What’s happening?”

He
rolls off me and sits up, his long legs crossed at the ankle and his arms
resting on his knees.

“Did
I say something?”

“No,
no, it’s not that,” I lie. “I think I just got a little too much sun today. I
should probably head back and lie down for a bit.”

He
looks at me and for one sickening second I think he’s going to call me on it.
But then he smiles and pulls me up by my hands.

“Ok,
let’s get you back to your room.”

We
walk up the track and past the Main Lodge to the stairs that lead up to the
treehouses. When we reach the bottom of my tree Crew stops me and pulls me to
him, running a thumb across my cheek.

“Are
you sure everything is ok? Did I rush you when I talked about you coming up to
Jefferson with me? Because if you don’t want to, then - ”

I
stop his words with a kiss. I can’t listen to his kindness anymore.

“I’m
just tired,” I say, trying out a smile. “See you later for dinner?”

“Sure.
I’ll come by at around six. We can eat on the terrace.”

I
watch him disappear through the trees in the direction of the Main Lodge and
then turn to wind my way up the stairs.

As
soon as I shut the door behind me I want to burst into tears. There is no right
way to fix this that I can see. There’s no hiding from the fact that I’ve
already lied about who I am and where I’m from. Even if Crew accepted my
reasons for keeping my identity a secret, he would never understand how I could
know about the water at Bridal Falls and do nothing about it. If he had been
the one to find out about the water samples he would have reported it straight
away. He wouldn’t have run off like a child and then pretended the problem
would go away. He’s not a coward like I am. I could kick myself for not being
honest with him from the beginning.

I
walk over to the bed and turn on my iPad, hoping against hope that my dad will
come through for me. When I go to my inbox, a hard knot of disappointment
twists in my stomach. There are still no emails from dad, but there is an email
from Eleanor, and the subject line reads urgent. I open it and quickly skim the
message.

To: Hartley

From: Eleanor Patrick

Hartley, where are you?

I’ve been calling your phone every hour, but it’s been disconnected. I
need to talk to you urgently. Your parents are in town. They turned up at my
door this morning. They’re here to take you back to Jefferson. Your Dad took me
out to coffee this afternoon. He’s really worried about you. He said that you
made some mistakes at work. He wants me to tell you that you’re not in any
trouble and that you can go back to Jefferson now. Is that the reason you left
Preston Industries? When you said it was a problem with your work, I assumed
that you weren’t getting on with a colleague or something. Now I’m really worried
about you. Call me.

I
read the email twice and then sit down on the bed. If I tell Eleanor where I
am, she’s going to tell my parents, and they’ll be here by morning. As much as
I adore her, Eleanor is kind to a fault. If my Mom and Dad spin her a story
about poor, emotional Hartley who ran away because she messed up at work, I
know she’s going to fall for it. The only options I have are to email her and
tell her what’s going on or email my Dad again begging him to do the right
thing and report the samples himself. I decide that it’s safer to keep Eleanor
out of it for as long as I can. That way she won’t have to lie when they ask
her where I am. Eleanor, bless her, is the world’s worst liar.

To: Dad

From: Hartley

Daddy,

I’m begging you. If you love me at all, don’t do this. Don’t leave this
all to me.

From,

Hartley

I
press the send button and stare blankly at the screen. If Crew is going to be
working in Jefferson, it will be a matter of minutes before he hears about the
Preston family. There’s no way I can be anywhere near town without being
recognized and stopped in the street. But, I realize as my stomach plummets, I
can’t be without Crew either. I don’t want to spend a day without seeing him. I
don’t want to spend a night without kissing him goodnight. I lie back on the
bed and try to think my way out of the mess I’m in, but I can’t find an answer.
My only hope is that there are a decent number of miles between Still Waters
and Jefferson. Maybe I can convince Crew to stay up in the mountains nearer to
the land, rather than in Jefferson itself. It’s the only thing I can think of.
I decide to ask to see the plans again in the morning. Maybe I’m worried about
nothing. Maybe the project will go quickly and smoothly, and we won’t have to
be there for long. I want so desperately to be right. But I have a sinking
feeling that I’m wrong.

Crew

I make myself wait
until six o'clock before I start up the steps to her treehouse. I’ve spent the
hours since I last saw her in the bar, trying not to drink. I can hear her
getting ready when I make it about half way up. She's humming something then
talking to herself, and then humming again. With every step I climb I try to
calm down, take deep breaths, try not to appear too anxious. I need to convince
her to tell me what’s going on, but I’m worried that I’ve already scared her
away by talking about the future so quickly. It was stupid. I should have
waited.

"Hey," I say when she opens the door.
"Are you feeling better?"

She looks up at me and smiles. I'm reminded of
something she said to me on the beach, back when she was just another pretty
girl. Something about a smile that doesn't meet your eyes.

"You want to talk about it now, or
later?" I ask, and her eyes widen.

"Am I that obvious?"

"Yes."

She moves awkwardly, tugging on the hem of her
dress and pulling her bag higher on her shoulder.

"Ummm, later. If that's ok."

"Sure," I say, taking her hand and
shutting the door behind her. "As long as you know that later means
tonight."

We walk through the forest hand in hand, neither of
us saying anything until we reach the Main Lodge. Evita has set up a table and
two chairs on the terrace for us. There are candles everywhere.

"This is amazing," she says when we turn
the corner and the terrace opens out in front of us. "It’s so
beautiful."

But her voice sounds hollow. I pull her chair out,
and she sits down.

"What do you want to eat? You can have
anything. As long as it's either chicken and rice or pork and beans."

She reaches over the table and takes my hand,
rubbing little circles on the top with her thumb.

"Chicken and rice please."

She takes a sip of her wine while I watch her.

"So, is it later yet?"

"Really?"

"I just thought of another one of my faults.
I'm impatient."

She smiles at that, and the knot in my stomach
loosens a bit when I see that this time, the smile is for real.

"Second thoughts?"

I throw it out there casually, but under the table
my knees are shaking. Her smile disappears immediately, and she squeezes my
hand.

"No, Crew. No second thoughts. It's not about
us."

Thank God.

"Is it about that thing that happened on the
plane that we're not talking about?"

"Sort of, yes."

"Babe, I understand that you have some things
you don't want to tell me yet. I get it. But there's a chance that I might be
able to help. I'm pretty good at helping."

She pushes back her chair and walks around the
table, sitting down in my lap.

"You're the best at helping. You've helped me
so much already, more than you know."

"So, trust me with this then."

"I can't. I will, soon."

I run my hands up her back and into her hair.
Through the glass doors, I can see Evita quickly smile at us and then look
away.

"That year of celibacy may have been a really
bad idea," I say into her neck. "I can't stop thinking about you. As
soon as I leave you, I want you again. It's driving me crazy."

She shifts off my lap and moves back to her seat. I
want her back again immediately.

“What did you do this afternoon?”

She looks at me apologetically. She’s changing the
subject, and we both know it.

“I worked on the plans and applications for Still
Waters and then sat in the bar with Frank.”

Evita rounds the corner with two plates piled high
with chicken and rice and places them on the table. As she leaves, she winks
and presses a button just inside the door. The terrace floods with romantic
music that somehow makes this dinner even more awkward than it already is.

“So, Jefferson,” Hartley says when she’s swallowed
her first mouthful. “Yum, that’s good.” She looks at her plate intently, moving
the food around with her fork. I think she’s trying not to look at me.

“How far away from town is Still Waters?”

Her voice is high and thin when she says it. She’d
make a terrible poker player.

“About an hour’s drive. There’s nothing up there
now though, just forest and mountains. We haven’t started construction yet.”

“Oh. So you can’t stay at the village, like you do
here?”

“Nope. Not for a while, anyway.”

This whole thing is weird, and I can’t figure it
out. I’m sick of it after five minutes.

“Come on, let’s go up to your room.”

She looks across at me, her fork suspended in front
of her mouth.

“I’m not finished.”

“We’ll take it with us.”

We stare at each other for a few heartbeats. She
puts the fork down.

“Ok. If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

Evita, apparently hearing everything, hurries over
without being asked. She quickly packs the food into containers and hands them
to me without a word.

We walk side by side in the darkness, the way to
the treehouses lit only by small solar lights in the gardens and the full moon
shining overhead. When we reach the base of her tree, Hartley turns to me,
tilting back her head so she can look into my face.

“No matter what, I want you to know that I mean it.
I do, Crew. I mean it.”

It feels as though a fist has taken hold of my
heart, squeezing it carelessly. She’s scaring me.

“I mean it too, kid,” I sigh. “But I wish you’d
just talk to me.”

We climb the stairs in silence, and she opens the
door. I turn on a lamp and put the food in the fridge. I already know that
neither of us is hungry anymore.

She stands opposite me, her hands clenched at her
sides as if she’s fighting something. I walk to the other side of the room and
turn the tap on the bath. Water pours from the ceiling and soon steam fills the
room. I pour in bubble bath, too much of it, and when it’s ready, I turn around
to face her.

“Get in.”

She undresses slowly, avoiding eye contact as she
pushes the straps of her dress off her shoulders and pulls it down over her
hips. Seeing her naked still feels like the first time. I try not to stare,
waiting until she’s in the water before I pull off my jeans, underwear and
t-shirt. Her eyes travel over my body as I walk to the bath, but when I climb
in the other end so that’s we’re facing each other she quickly looks down.

“Look at me. What’s going on with you? I feel like
everything changed when I asked you what your plans were.”

She looks up from the bubbles and stretches her
legs out so that they lie over mine.

“I’m sorry. This is all a lot to take in. A month
ago I had a completely different life. I’m just trying to work it all out in my
head.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes.”

Bullshit.

“Come here,” I say, pulling her hand so that she
spins around in the water and lies back against my chest. I wrap my arms around
her stomach and kiss her hair.

“I have tomorrow off. I thought I could take you
down to the local village. They’ve all been asking about you.”

“Sounds great.”

I wash her hair for her, laughing when she barks
instructions at me. I try not to scrub too hard. She turns around and lies
against me, her breasts against my chest and her mouth on my neck.

“I’m so tired,” she says against my skin, “but my
body won’t let me sleep.”

“Mine, too. Let’s get out.”

We both stumble out of the water, our muscles loose
and our skin steaming. She dries me with a towel like I’m a child, laughing as
she tells me to put my arms up and spin around.

We crawl under the netting on her bed and pull a
sheet over us. I smile when I notice that she’s not worried about sleeping
naked tonight.

“What do you want?” I say into her ear, and she
sighs, turning on her side and moving back against me.

“Be gentle.”

So I touch her lightly, my fingertips barely
grazing her skin, my lips no more than a whisper against her neck. She holds my
hand against her breast as we rock slowly together, the room quiet except for
the sound of our breathing and the birds rustling through the trees.

“I want to try something tonight,” she says when
it’s over, and we’re lying on our backs holding hands.

“Ah, I might need a few minutes. Or a week.”

She turns on her side and smiles into my shoulder.

“It’s not like that. I have an idea to help you
sleep better.”

I sigh heavily and look down at her.

“Babe, thanks, really, but I’ve tried everything.
Nothing works. The only way I can stop the nightmares is if I drink so much I
pass out.”

“Just give this a try for me, it can’t hurt, can
it?”

She nestles in closer, planting little kisses
across my shoulder and down my arm.

“Ok then, go ahead.”

“All I want you to do is close your eyes and think
about today. Just today. Think about everything you loved about it. Now, tell
me.”

I settle back against the pillows and take a deep
breath.

“The way you looked when I woke you up this
morning, your hair was hanging down your back, and you were curled up in a
tight little ball, like a snail.”

She reaches across and places a hand on my chest.

“That’s good. What else?”

“Your hair looked so soft. I touched it while you
were sleeping.”

“Did you? Keep going.”

“Swimming in the sea with you, your skin was
slippery and smooth like a fish. Reading with you next to me. This. Right now.”

“Good. Now keep those thoughts in your head, ok?
Don’t let them go. Keep thinking about everything that was wonderful about the
day as you fall asleep. I’m going to stay right here.”

She moves closer and wraps an arm across my ribs,
resting her face on my chest. She holds tightly, the pads of her fingers
digging in. I try to do as she asked. I think about her hair and the sea
reflecting off her eyes as my breathing slows, and I drop away into sleep.

The nightmare comes in the early hours when even
the capuchin monkeys in the trees are still and the birds are quiet in their
nests. I’m on the beach at Twin Heads. The fog is coming off the ocean so thick
that I can’t see more than a foot in front of my face. Jessie is there. She’s
screaming at me through the fog, but I can’t find her. “Crew!” she cries, but
when I try to shout back to her, the words come out in Spanish. Jessie doesn’t
understand. “Crew! Help me!” she screams, and I stumble forward in the
direction of her voice. I’m spinning around trying to see her, my hands
outstretched and my legs heavy as I move through the sand. “Crew!” she screams
again, and this time the sound sends an icicle of terror slithering down my
neck. “The baby! Save the baby!” she pleads. And then I hear it. A thin,
high-pitched wail somewhere in the distance. I start running blindly, trying to
push the fog aside with my hands as I go. The skin on my feet snags as I run
over sharp shells and sticks but no matter how fast I run I’m not making any
progress. Jessie still sounds too far away. And then the baby cries louder. Oh
God. I know where it is. It’s in the water. My leg strikes something hard in
the sand, and I’m tumbling forwards, my face hitting the sand. When I look to
the side, I can see a yellow disc skimming the surface, back and forth, back
and forth. Its slow, steady rhythm completely at odds with the frenetic thump
of my heart. I look up slowly, there’s a handle attached to the disc, and when
I get to the top, I see that it’s one of my father’s metal detectors. He’s
holding it in one hand, swinging it from side to side. “Dad!” I scream at him.
“Can you see Jessie?” He looks down at where I lie on the sand, taking a long
slow draw on his cigarette. “There’s something good up here, Crew. I can feel
it,” he says, and slowly moves away. I scramble to my feet and look wildly
around. Jessie isn’t screaming anymore, but it’s so much worse because suddenly
there’s that bubbling sound from the back of the car the night we had the
accident. I run desperately towards the sea and the fog parts as if by magic. I
can see the baby. It’s floating face down in the water; the waves tossing it up
on the sand and then dragging it back out to sea. It takes me a moment to
register that there’s something wrong with the ocean. It’s thick and foamy; the
waves froth as they hit the beach. I run into it, and it feels like soup
against my legs. I reach my hands down and pull them out in front of my face.
And then I scream. The sea is blood. The blood is Jessie’s.

“No.” whispers an urgent voice in my ear. It sounds
muffled and far away as if someone is speaking to me through the walls.