Watery Graves (16 page)

“I’m drunk. I’m fifteen. And I know what I want.”

Emmy closed her eyes and kissed him again.

Sebastian pulled back. “I’m drunk and I got in a fight.”

“Maya will understand.”

“What are we doing here?”

“Kissing.”

“Do you want to keep going?”

“Not beside the river.”

Chapter Twenty Seven

Sebastian flicked the lights on at the top of the stairs. Together they stood staring down at the bed. All of a sudden, it looked different from the bed they’d been sharing. It was as if someone had run out and bought them a new one with this night in mind. With one look at him, her nerves got the better of her and she switched the light off.

“Let’s not let Mum or Kristian know we’re back from the party yet.”

“Good idea.”

She walked around to her side of the bed, standing over it again.

“Should we get in?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. I suppose that’s the next step.”

He stripped to his boxers.

She watched the way the shadows played over his skin.

He climbed into bed, settling himself on the pillows. “Are you getting in?”

She fished her p
yjamas out from under the pillow. “Close your eyes.”

He seemed to obey. Just to be sure
, she turned around, slipping off what Gertie and Jen thought were her pyjamas and slipping over the frilled white tunic that she did sleep in.

When she turned around his eyes were open.

She climbed into the bed beside him, settling on her side to face him.

“Hello,” she whispered.

He rolled to face her and whispered back, “Hi.” Then after a lengthy pause, he said, “What are we going to do now?”

“Why are we whispering?” she asked.

“I think I’m scared out of my mind,” he whispered back.

“My mouth is dry.”

“Do you want a drink,” he said shifting as though to get a drink from the tap.

She pulled him back. “No. Don’t.”

“I should have gone to the toilet.”

She rolled back
, clapping her hand onto her face. “Me too.”

“You go,” he said generously.

They each went to the toilet. She closed the door on her turn. He left it ajar on his. Both of them brushed their teeth.

When he settled into bed beside her this time, she was ready for him. She touched his chin
. “Stay still. Let me kiss you.”

She leant in and kept her kisses soft and light. He tasted like nothing she’d ever had before. His mouth was alive and warm, salty but also minty from toothpaste. The kisses became firmer as they stirred something in her. A knot in her belly pulled tight, drawing her pelvis and heart together. She kissed with more energy.

She felt a feathery touch at her hip, gasped and bucked away, grabbing at his fingers. “So ticklish,” she panted.

“Sorry. Sorry,” he whispered.

She planted his hand firmly on his hip, locked with his eyes, then closed hers as he leaned in this time to kiss her. She let him taste her. She felt his tongue touch her teeth and pulled back.

“Sorry,” she apologised. “Felt weird.”

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“Do it again.”

“Which part?”

“The kiss. The tongue thing.”

“I don’t want to scare you.”

“I’m not scared. Are you still scared?”

“I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”

“Is any of this wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s not talk,” she said.

They both dived in for the next kiss, their noses and foreheads banging.

“My turn,” she whispered.

“Yep, your turn.”

He lay still as she kissed him. She dared to stroke his chest, his back. And she let him move his hand off her hip. His hand roamed, up her back, to her ribs, playing with the side of her breast.

Out of breath, she pulled back. She had never known kissing could make it so hard to get air.

“Breathe through your nose. Little breaths,” he instructed.

“I’m trying. My heart is, and my head. I can’t breathe properly.”

He laughed. They laughed together. Their foreheads joined. And they both gazed down at the closeness of each other.

She saw it, that fleshy thing protruding from the fly of his boxers. It reminded her of a goat’s teat, just for an instant. It took everything she had not to laugh, as it seemed to take on a life of its own, pointing upwards as if it was trying to see what was going on between them. She reached down to touch it.

He held her hand back.

She stopped and waited to see if he would change his mind and give her permission. He wriggled out of his boxers.

She stared at him.

He tugged on her tunic.

She nodded.

He pulled it over her head.

She cowered in the coolness of the sheets, covering her breasts with her arm.

They’d bathed together as kids and seen each other naked many times before. But not like this, not with these feelings.

In a panic she scooted back.

He flipped over.

“Is that far enough tonight?” he asked.

“I think so.”

They weren’t whispering any more.

They lay in bed with a respectable space between them, gazing up at the ceiling.

Emmy couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t long before she felt his hand creep over near hers. She moved hers until their pinkies were touching.

Their fingers took a moment before they allowed themselves to intertwine.

Sleep came easier then.

Chapter Twenty Eight

The bed was jiggling. Emmy woke to see Sebastian dressed, sitting beside her and pulling his shirt down.

“Sebastian?”

He stared at her, then turned away reaching for his shoes.

She wanted him to smile but he didn’t.

“Is it time for breakfast?” she asked.

“Yeah. The blueberries are out of control again. Dad wanted me to get some for our porridge.”

Emmy shifted in the bed, trying to curl around him. He patted her arm and stood up. “See you in the kitchen,” he said with a quick smile, his eyes skipping over her face and looking out the window. “It’s a clear day.”

She remembered everything so clearly from the night before. But she wondered if he didn’t. She didn’t know how much he’d had to drink. She knew about the way alcohol can take a person’s memory away.

*

Emmy was the last one to breakfast. She walked into the room as breezily as she could manage. It was always the same with blueberries. Kristian and Sebastian had to have an argument. Sebastian said they were perfect and Kristian said the ones he’d picked needed more time to ripen.

“It’s a matter of taste,” Ingrid settled it for them.

Emmy slid onto the bench seat beside Sebastian.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Ingrid said. “Sebastian’s already filled us in about last night. How was it for you?”

Emmy looked at him. “It was fine,” she said slowly with a smile. Everyone seemed to be taking it well. She kind of wanted it kept a secret. It surprised her that no one was starting to lay out rules for how things would be from now on.

“How were the crowds?”

“Oh
.” Emmy collected herself. “The crowds were…”

Sebastian finished her sentence. “She worked them well. Charmed them with platters of food. Kept them happy.”

Emmy nodded. “Mrs Bexley thought it’d be a good way to meet people.”

“I’m glad she was looking out for you,” Ingrid said.

Emmy felt like an invisible brick wall sat between her and Sebastian, a force field that would stop them from ever touching again. She didn’t know what to say to him. She didn’t know if he remembered. Everything between them had changed.

Everything.

*

The entire day had her on edge. It was hard to stay still anywhere. Every part of her felt jumpy. All she could think about was Sebastian and the way he touched her. It was perfect that only the two of them knew about it. She knew she’d have to do something about telling someone. She knew she needed something big to happen to settle her mind.

Over her shoulder, Emmy checked that Ingrid and Kristian weren’t in sight before heading along the bank, upstream. She chose a part of the river where it straightened and the surface was settled smooth and tranquil. Taking a moment or two to check the water in front of her for any danger, she stripped down to a fitted shirt and underwear.

Scrambling across the rocks, her feet plunked as she stepped into the cool shallows. She waded out over the concealed pebbles. They shifted under her weight, but she kept her balance. When her feet reached the muddy floor it was firmer than she expected. The river bottom had changed.

With the water flowing past her hips, invisible torrents pulled at her legs. She dropped her hands into the water and sank down with a gasp as it engulfed her body and tickled her neck. Despite the flutters in her stomach, Emmy found herself smiling.

“Whatever is, is,” she murmured, a quiet salute to Maya’s wise words. Springing off the bottom, she cast herself forward into Mercy River. Her mind was committed. A sense of power surged through her face, arms, body and legs. It had been a long time but her strokes were strong. She kept her eyes shut so the faces of the ghosts from the past wouldn’t shake her faith.

It wasn’t until she reached the middle of the river that she truly sensed how alive the waters were. She stopped to tread water, limbs frantic. The currents below her surged and sucked. Emmy tried to scream but took in a mouthful of water and gagged.

She turned to swim back but it seemed f
arther away than the other bank. The urge to let her body sink into the underwater silence became too strong to resist. She took a breath. With eyes wide open, she tried to let herself go with the wishes of the water and drop down, but nothing happened. A new spirit spoke to her.
Float
.
Hold your breath, puff out your chest, and float. Don’t be afraid.

Emmy flipped over onto her back, filled her chest with air and listened again. But all she heard, ears underwater, was the strange sound of a dog yapping in the distance, among the reeds, behind the rocks. When she raised her head a little, water gushed in and out of her ears. She felt the forces of water like hands propping her up and carrying her. She knew who the hands belonged to. She knew who was with her. She knew they would always be there.

The power returned to her, a protective sheath. She flipped onto her stomach and drew her hands through the water, kicking her legs. With eyes wide open, she saw their faces smiling up at her, only to disappear when the murky bottom of the opposite bank rushed up to take their place.

She trudged out of water and flopped onto the grass, spreading her arms wide. Her chest heaved as she observed the clouds float high above her and silently thanked Maya for her wisdom.

If Mercy River was going to claim her, again it had had its chance.

“Whatever is, is.” 

Stones rattled down beside her. Above her she heard something scramble.

She leapt up. She couldn’t be sure. But she thought she saw a dark shadow whisk through the scrub. She was certain enough that someone was there to get into the water and swim back. The second she stepped into the stream she thought she heard someone laugh. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Instead of scanning the bush, she waded further and dived into the depths.

It was harder going back. She didn’t want to be in the water. She didn’t want to be on the bank. She wanted to be in the kitchen doing her home study program. With heavy arms, she forced herself to take one stroke at a time. It took every bit of focus to think only about staying on top of the water. The currents were pulling her downstream. The urge to panic was with her. She wanted to be on the home side of the river. The souls below were there but they seemed displeased with her now. She hit the bank at the rocks. The river was still deep, giving her no other choice but to claw her way out. The rocks scratched her forearms and legs but she didn’t care. Free of the water, she stumbled over them and onto the grassy bank.

The river had taken her f
arther than she thought.

She flopped on her back, panting. The sun sent crystals of light through leafy branches.

But the scrambling was on this side of the river too.

Emmy flipped over and drew up onto her knees. Higher up the hillside, she spotted a shadowy figure. She shifted into the protection of the shrubbery and crouched, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t see her.

If anyone knew she’d been swimming, life would not be worth living.

She squatted for what seemed forever, waiting, trying to think of a plan. All that she could think to do was to wait in hiding until she dried off.

A voice seemed to come out of nowhere. “Emmy?”

Her feet skidded out under her. She struggled to squat again and then eventually stand.

The voice came again. “Emmy.” It was deep but sounded like a girl’s voice. 

“Yeh-es.”

“Stay on this side of the river.”

“Yes.”

Emmy waited for the person to come forward. But nothing happened. “Is that you, Sebastian?”

No response.

“Maya?”

Emmy couldn’t have stayed there any longer if she tried.

She bolted up through the trees to the left, feeling the eyes of a stranger on her the whole way. Protruding roots were a blessing and a challenge both acting as a foothold and in the next step something to trip on. Even at the fence line on her own land she wondered if she was being watched. At her pile of clothes she pulled them on. If it was trick from someone wanting to freak her out to teach her a lesson about swimming in the river it worked. A small part of her wondered if there was any voice at all. Maybe it was her conscience. Was she going mad?

She had to be.

*

A pile of compost and thick alluvial soil, moist from the rain, was all the seedlings would need to spring to life with the days as warm as they’d been. The rows had been hoed. Sebastian started planting from the other end, his back turned to them. Emmy couldn’t help sneaking glances, trying to catch him stealing a pe
ek at her.

In between them, Kristian and Ingrid duck-walked, covering the tiny plants, stopping to admire their leaves and stroking them free of dirt. Her mother stood and stretched, rubbing the small of her back. It threw Emmy when she asked, “Okay, I gotta know. What’s going on here?” Ingrid looked at them all at first, but then her eyes came to rest on Emmy. “What’s happened Em? Are you and Sebastian fighting?”

Sebastian stood slowly, his gaze finally meeting Emmy’s. It was steady and strong, full of warning.

She pursed her lips and nodded ever so slightly before facing her mother again. “I don’t know what you mean. We’re here together working on the garden. It’s just like the way things used to be, isn’t it? All of us together. It’s nice.”

“No one’s talking. You two are stuck on opposite sides of the patch. That’s not the way it used to be.”

“We’re all entitled to quiet days, Ingrid,” Kristian reassured her. “Things haven’t been easy lately.”

Sebastian joined Emmy on her side of the patch, planting alternate plants with her. “Nice work, Em.”

“Thanks, Sebastian.”

Ingrid shook her head. “Okay, be like that. Don’t tell us a thing.”

*

Sebastian was in her bed waiting for her that night. She dressed, went to the toilet, brushed her teeth and climbed into bed beside him.

He was facing her, so she rolled on her side to face him.

“Hello,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she whispered.

He tugged at her tunic.

She nodded.

He pulled it off.

She discovered he’d already taken off his boxers.

They were ready to pick up where they had left off.

He did remember. They both remembered everything.