The Summer of Secrets (17 page)

He gave a laugh. ‘I think she has a lot to prove.’

Helen thought about that, relieved he hadn’t asked her why she wanted to know.

‘Will she stay around for long?’

‘Here, there, it doesn’t make much difference in the end. None of us will be here for long.’ He laughed again. ‘Wisdom from your very own guru. They’ll be lucky to get me.’

‘Who?’

‘University.’ He lengthened the vowels, almost singing the word.

The music was still playing, its rough anguished edges reflecting her feelings. She was glad of the noise, of the excuse to close her eyes again and pretend she was OK.

‘What are you going for?’

‘That’s a deep question.’ He repeated it, as if genuinely asking himself. ‘What am I going for?’ He propped himself up on one elbow. ‘The opportunity came up. I dunno, it seemed a good thing to do. Shame to let all those A levels go to waste.’

Such an ordinary set of qualifications was a revelation to her. Victoria had talked about a school, but a different sort of one, where they seemed to be able to do what they liked. It hadn’t sounded as if exams featured much. And Pippa and Will couldn’t read yet.
Steiner
, Victoria had explained.
It’s different, Helen, not wrong.

‘When do you go?’

‘September. Feels a long way off yet. Have to help this lot settle somewhere first.’

‘I wish they were staying.’

Seth sounded amused. ‘Here? There’s the damp, no heating. It was only ever going to be for the summer. And they’ve been lucky with the weather.’

They, not we, Helen thought. It was as if he’d already gone.

The thump of footsteps came up the stairs and Victoria’s head popped around the door.

‘Hey, Helen.’ She came in and sat down next to Helen on the floor. ‘What’s this shit you’re listening to?’ She started to work her way along the stack of albums, pulling a handful out and spreading them across the floor. ‘Let’s have this one.’

She walked over on her knees, catching the arm of the record player so it squawked across the record that was playing. Over her bent head, Seth caught Helen’s eye and grimaced. She grimaced back. She could only hope the relief she was feeling at Victoria’s casual return wasn’t too obvious.

Everything was nearly back to normal. Helen turned up in the mornings to see what craze had come into Victoria’s head overnight: volleyball, with an old sheet for a net and an inflatable world globe for a ball; chalk pictures along the garden wall; taking photographs with an old camera she’d unearthed from Piet’s belongings. It felt as though something had shifted, as if a stone had broken the peace of the water’s surface and settled on the riverbed, undetectable from above but subtly changing the water’s flow, but it was easier to ignore it than otherwise.

Work on the boat picked up again as well. Mick recovered, as Seth had predicted he would, and carried on sawing wood for the deckhouse though, to Helen’s eyes, with less enthusiasm than before. She wanted to ask him about it, but she could never quite work out how to start. Anyway, he was asleep in front of the telly by the evening. And during the day, she’d started to avoid the garage. If she didn’t see any trouble, it couldn’t be happening.

She heard him in there now as she headed out, hammer strokes echoing from behind the door and following her down the path and out into the lane. Piet’s van bumped towards her and she pressed back into the hedge to let him go by. He didn’t stop, but waved a hand out of the window as he passed. The sound of splashing drew her towards the canal bank, and the first thing she saw was Will. On the opposite bank, an oak tree leaned waterwards; someone had tied a rope to the largest of the overhanging branches, and Will was clinging to it as he swung in a wide arc over the canal.

‘Jump, moron! That’s the whole point!’ Victoria was in the dinghy, using her hands to paddle it around. Pippa was holding on to a red-and-white striped life-ring, paddling in circles near to the bank. She let go of the ring with one hand so she could wave.

‘Helen, look! We’ve got a rope swing! And Uncle Piet fixed the dinghy!’

The hand holding the ring slipped, and she disappeared under the surface. When she came up, she abandoned the ring, coming towards Helen with a determined dog-paddle. She clung on to the grass at the side.

‘Come on, Helen, you can have the next go!’

Helen sank down to her knees at the edge.

‘I don’t know, Pippa, the water’s a bit horrible. And I haven’t got my swimming costume.’

Pippa studied her with her head on one side. ‘Is it because you can’t swim? You can have my ring if you like.’

‘No, but the water …’

Pippa was already paddling her way back to the ring. Helen watched her bob along and missed the start of the upset. Then she looked over to see Victoria turn and open her mouth to shout at the same time as Will let go of the rope, flying through the air and landing right on top of her.

The dinghy seemed to fold. Victoria overbalanced with a wild yell and they both toppled into the water. She surfaced first, spitting water out as she looked about, one hand pushing hair out of her eyes, the other grabbing for the rope looped along the dinghy’s side.

Helen was stood up, squinting against the reflections from the sun on the disturbed water. She could see Will, but he didn’t seem quite right.

‘Victoria—’ She tried to focus. Had he moved? Surely he was messing; he’d been the one landing on top of Victoria, after all. ‘Vic!’ Her voice started to rise, not quite steadily. Will body floated, motionless, his face under the surface, his thin arms spread out. Victoria had her back to him as she struggled over the unstable edge of the dinghy, which was between Pippa in her ring and Will’s motionless form. Helen started to kick off her sandals, at the same time cupping her hands around her mouth. ‘There’s something wrong with Will!’

She saw Victoria, now in the dinghy, pick up on her tone, and waved her arms. ‘Over there!’

Her feet finally free, she sat on the edge of the bank, hesitating as she tried to decide if she needed to get in.

She saw Victoria paddle herself around. Pippa, now with a clear view, let out a high-pitched wail as she realized what was happening. She started towards her twin, arms and legs lashing out but not getting her very far. Victoria had jumped back in and already had hold of Will. He seemed to be a dead weight, but they were making a steady pace towards the bank, so Helen turned her attention to Pippa, in time to see her go under and then struggle off again. She was gasping, and couldn’t seem to hold her head out properly. There was nothing else for it. Helen held her breath and let herself slide down the side of the bank.

The water was warmer than she had expected, but she felt slime squeeze between her toes. She took a deep breath and kicked off, taking only a couple of strokes to reach the kicking and struggling Pippa.

‘I need to get to Fred!’ She was breathless, and her body was slippery and hard to grip. Helen held on, her fingers digging into Pippa’s shoulders as she repeated herself until it sank in.

‘It’s OK, Victoria’s got him. Everything’s OK.’

She was out of her depth now, kicking to stay afloat, hampered by the clinging fabric of her clothes. Pippa started to sob, holding on with her arms while her legs floated up, buoyed by the ring. The shift in balance was unexpected, and Helen’s head went under the surface. The water was cool around her face, but dirty, and full of germs. That disease, something to do with rats. With a huge effort, she fought her way back up, keeping her mouth clamped tightly shut. She could see Victoria struggling to manoeuvre Will’s slippery, unresponsive body up to the grass. Pippa chose that moment to kick her legs out of the ring. She used Helen’s stomach as a base to push herself off, and the force sent Helen under the water again, this time with her mouth open.

By the time she was upright again, coughing and spitting, feeling for the mud at the bottom of the canal, Victoria was on the bank next to Will’s prone form. Helen took a step, registering something hard underfoot. She had just staggered within reach of the side when Will leapt up with a triumphant shout, and ran away down the towpath, Victoria in enraged pursuit.

Her arms were shaky, and she wasn’t sure if they’d have the strength to pull her out. Everyone else had disappeared. She scrabbled for a foothold in the stonework of the side until, with a final effort, she rolled over and ended flat on her stomach. It was probably a good thing no one was there, she thought, to see her flop about like a whale. She lay there, panting, wondering how much canal water you had to swallow before you died. The sun was warm against her back. Voices were lifted behind the cottage, and a door banged. As she heard the voices coming closer, she rolled over. The sun glinted from the water into her eyes, and a jolt of pain sliced up from her foot.

She was sitting on the bank trying not to feel queasy at the sight of the blood oozing when the others came back. Victoria was behind Will, pushing him forward in short jerky runs.

‘And now you can get back in and fetch the dinghy, you little …’ Her voice tailed off. ‘What did you do?’

They gathered in a cluster, Pippa pushing her head through to see what was happening. Seth had come with them, and he took hold of her foot to examine it more closely. His hands were warm, and big enough to surround her foot. She tried not to mind being sopping wet, her hair dripping in tails down her back. Not so much a water nymph as a water goblin. She heard herself make a hiccupping sob. The cut was nasty, slicing right across her instep.

‘Ouch.’ Seth gave her a half smile. ‘Glass in the mud probably. Dangerous business, swimming in the canal.’

‘I didn’t want to. I was helping Pippa when …’ She heard her voice wobble and dug her nails hard into her forearm ‘… when Will pretended he was drowning.’

‘So you went in for the rescue and ended up the casualty?’ His voice was calm. ‘I wondered why Will was running so fast.’ He pulled out a handkerchief, and started to wrap it around her foot. ‘I was a Scout for about three weeks once. I wonder if I can remember what to do?’

He helped her up, and slid an arm around her back.

‘Come on. Let’s see if you need a doctor.’ He turned to the others. ‘Give her some space. And get the dinghy back in.’

The kitchen was quiet, the dust on the window filtering the sunlight down to a manageable hue. Seth swept the pile of books stacked up on the chair off on to the floor, and supported her down into it.

‘Now let’s see what we’ve got.’ He picked up her foot again, making her gasp with an indrawn breath as he dabbed at it with a handkerchief.

‘Is it bad?’ She risked taking a peek. ‘I don’t want to get that thing from the rats.’

He placed it down again as gently as if it was made of glass.

‘I don’t think you need to worry as long as it’s bleeding. Pushes all the nasties out.’ He gave her a grin. ‘And at least you don’t need to worry about sharks.’

Her foot was soaking in a bowl of warm, sharp-smelling water by the time Pippa, followed by the other two, sidled in.

‘Are you all right?’ Victoria spoke first, her hands gripping Will’s arm up behind his back. ‘Will has something to say to you. Don’t you?’ she hissed at him, giving his arm a further twist.

Will kept his eyes fixed on the floor. ‘Sorry.’ He shot a glance towards Helen’s foot. ‘Will you get gangrene? Victoria said your foot would fall off.’ He gave a yelp as Victoria dug in her fingers. ‘I only wanted to know – it was you that said it!’ His voice was aggrieved.

‘That’s enough.’ Seth levered himself off the table edge and herded the twins out through the door. ‘Off you go and play.’ On an afterthought, he opened the door again and shouted after them: ‘And stay out of the water. Get the hosepipe out.’

Victoria turned to him, one eyebrow lifted. ‘We haven’t got a hosepipe, have we?’

Seth smiled over at Helen. ‘Yeah, well, it’ll give them something to do, won’t it?’ Helen smiled back as an involuntary shiver ran down her torso. ‘You need to get some dry clothes on. Do you want to go home?’

Victoria butted in. ‘No, she can come up to my room, I’ll find her something.’

‘I’ll put a plaster on it.’

Helen closed her eyes and let herself feel comforted. It was almost worth the pain.

‘Does it hurt a lot?’ Victoria was on the floor, leaning on the side of the bed. Helen was lying on it, the jumble of covers pushed down at the end so her foot could rest on them. Seth had said the cut wasn’t too bad, but it was throbbing so much she wasn’t sure she believed him.

Helen nodded. ‘A bit.’

‘It’ll feel better once the aspirins get going.’

They were silent for a few minutes, then Victoria spoke, this time without turning.

‘I was talking to Moira yesterday.’

‘Oh. Right.’ Talk of Moira made the emptiness of the past few days sweep back through Helen’s chest. She could feel tears coming. It was the shock, she told herself only to be expected with the scare she’d had, and her foot. She cleared her throat and tried to sound normal. ‘Is she still on the boat?’

‘Yeah, for the time being. She was talking about going to London. There’s a big CND rally being planned, and Seth might be going down with her. Me too, if I can get them to say yes. She’s got some friends in a squat we could stay with.’

‘Squat’ was a horrible word. Helen closed her eyes and saw it written on the back of her eyelids, the letters swelling in a monstrous dance. She missed the beginning of Victoria’s next sentence.

‘… which is weird, don’t you think?’

‘What? Sorry.’ She rubbed her eyes and pushed herself up on to one elbow. ‘Who was what?’

‘Dave, you know, the guy on the boat?’ Victoria linked her fingers together and stretched up her arms, leaning backwards at the same time. She gave a satisfied grunt. ‘I reckon he’s done some pretty dangerous stuff. Moira started to say something, and he made her shut up.’ Her arms dropped back down by her sides, and she studied Helen with narrowed eyes. ‘I wonder what it feels like, knowing you’ve killed someone?’

‘I don’t want to know.’ Helen pictured him, sitting on his stool with that half smile on his face as he watched her trying not to look at Moira. ‘Besides, why would he come here?’