Deep Water, Thin Ice (15 page)

‘I noticed there’s some nice jewellery in the gallery in the village.’

‘Yes. I did go in there the once. She has an odd mixture of things I must say. I didn’t like those bird carvings very much. I found them rather threatening.’

Alex bit her tongue and the conversation died while they both drank a little coffee.

‘So have you got more plans for the hall?’ Sarah continued a couple of minutes later.

‘Yes, a few. More decorating and perhaps a new kitchen and bathroom.’

‘Oh, you
will
be busy then. That’ll take a while.’

‘Yes, probably.’ Alex hadn’t thought through the timescale. Her ideas and plans still changed from day to day, vague, drifting, reluctant to be fixed. She tried to think of another topic of conversation but Sarah Hellyon was nowhere near as easy to talk to as her son.

‘Have you been exploring the area?’ Sarah asked. ‘Getting to know the place?’

‘Yes, a little. I like to walk a bit.’

Sarah nodded. ‘And getting to know people too, presumably?’

Alex’s mind flitted to the reserve then pushed it away.

‘Just the odd person, on nodding terms. Elizabeth Franklin’s been very kind.’

‘Elizabeth? The woman who does the B and B down at Captain’s Cottage is that? I know who you mean but I’ve never had much to do with her myself.’ Sarah paused and then smiled again. ‘And I believe you had your sister staying just recently?’

‘Yes, Erica. She lives in London.’

‘So you don’t see much of her then?’

‘Not so much at the moment.’

‘I had a sister. She was a lot older than me.’ Sarah shook her head and her immaculate bob swung side to side. ‘She always used to think she could tell me what to do. Of course I completely ignored her. How do you manage?’

‘Well my sister’s younger than me but she still likes to tell me what to do.’ The argument loomed into Alex’s mind, the culmination, apparently, of years of seething dissent. ‘I’m afraid I don’t always fall in with her plans either.’

‘Sisters always think they know better,’ Sarah said confidingly. ‘It’s important not to give in too much. Gives them too much power.’

Alex forced a smile as she leaned forward to put her coffee cup down on the table. ‘If you’ve finished your coffee I wondered if you’d like to look around?’ she offered. ‘See what’s changed, what’s the same?’

Sarah’s face lit up.

‘Yes I would like that very much.’

Sarah put her cup and saucer down on the table and Alex stood up with a sense of relief.

‘We’ll start with the snug shall we?’ she said. ‘I’m afraid I can’t imagine calling it anything else.’

They walked round the whole of the downstairs. Sarah said little but stared at everything as if she were involved in a game of Pellmanism and was committing it all to memory. Alex made odd remarks about things that had been done, things she might do, tried to keep it light, ease the atmosphere a bit, but Sarah responded little. They went upstairs, looked at the rear bedrooms and bathroom, then moved forward and went into the spare bedroom Erica had used.

‘This was our room,’ Sarah murmured. She stared round and frowned.

‘Is there something the matter?’ said Alex.

Sarah turned to face her and the frown instantly disappeared to be replaced with a smile.

‘No, no, of course not. You’ve decorated in here haven’t you? It’s so different. I was just trying to remember.’

‘I sleep next door,’ Alex said, leading on into her own room and wondering why she’d thought showing Sarah Hellyon her old home would be a good idea. It had occurred to her recently that she had a tendency to try too hard at the wrong things and never quite got it right.

She pushed the door open and walked in to stand by the chest of drawers, close to Simon’s ashes.

‘This was Julian’s room,’ murmured Sarah.

‘Sorry?’

Sarah walked past her, across to the side window, and looked out down towards the River Kella.

‘This was Julian’s room,’ she repeated.

Alex suddenly felt very cold again. She thought she was used to it but this time it took her by surprise. She reached out a hand to touch the casket and rubbed her fingers on it shakily.

‘Really? Theo never said.’ She hesitated, watching Sarah uneasily. The silence in the room between them felt almost tangible. ‘But I did ask where Simon slept when he was here,’ she added, attempting a bright tone. ‘Theo said he used the little room at the back.’

Sarah turned and stared at her, her face slowly falling into a heavy frown. Her eyes strayed to Simon’s photograph on the chest of drawers.

‘The box room? Did he? Yes, I suppose he must have. It’s such a long time ago. You start to forget all sorts of things as you get older.’ Sarah turned her eyes away and began to move back towards the door. ‘I really ought to be going now. Thank you
so
much for showing me round.’

Alex watched Sarah step out neatly down the path and round the house towards the Lodge. The older woman’s behaviour had been even stranger than on their first meeting. She wondered if Sarah had been drinking whisky before she came out. Did Theo know his mother drank so much?
The danger of becoming too reclusive
, she could imagine Liz Franklin saying
. Are you getting out? Meeting people?

And when Julian’s name had come up Sarah’s manner had noticeably changed. Alex had avoided discussing Julian’s death with Theo so far, but now she made a mental note to ask what had happened to him. It was becoming something she thought she ought to know.

‘You’re really brown.’

‘And you’re much too pale,’ responded Theo. ‘I’m glad I suggested we go out or you’d spend the whole summer stripping wallpaper and miss the sunshine.’

Alex smiled. She was glad to see him home; happier than she thought she’d be. He exuded energy and good cheer. His hair had grown and with the twitch of the shoulder before he spoke and the set of his mouth when he was concentrating she was immediately reminded of Simon again. He was loading food she’d prepared into a rucksack for a picnic. He’d rung up the day before and even his voice had made her tingle. Perhaps that was it, she thought, perhaps it’s his voice that makes me think of Simon most, a frequency of sound which reaches inside me, like a familiar piece of music that runs through your head.

‘You’re back,’ she’d said stupidly when she’d heard his voice on the phone.

‘Yesterday. What a relief. Did you get the card?’

‘Yes, thank you. Did you have a good trip?’

‘No. Yes. That is, it went well but I was bored to death. I must be getting too old for it. It’s not the fun it used to be. And what about you? What have you been up to?’

‘Oh, nothing special. This and that. Reading. Walking a bit, you know.’ When asked, it occurred to her that really she did very little that was worth talking about. The only thing that was interesting was the wildlife she’d seen on the reserve and she wasn’t supposed to mention that.

‘I was thinking about my suggestion for decorating the drawing room.’

‘Yes?’

‘Why don’t we go out instead?’

‘Go out?’ Alex said sharply, scared that he’d got her wrong all along and now he was suggesting a date. She tried to think of excuses. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said defensively.

‘I was thinking of going for a walk somewhere, getting some Devon air. I’ve been at sea for too long and I need my land legs back. Maybe I could show you somewhere you haven’t been yet. Or have you been everywhere?’

Alex laughed a little nervously, aware that her mind had been running on ahead of her. A
walk
seemed innocent enough.

‘I shouldn’t think so,’ she replied. ‘Where have you got in mind?’

‘Nowhere in particular. Throw some sandwiches together. I’ll bring something to drink and a rucksack and we’ll go exploring tomorrow. I told Patrick I wouldn’t be back at the yard till Monday. The forecast is good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Ten o’clock.’

And he’d put the phone down, leaving Alex wondering what she was doing.

Now Alex stood watching Theo putting her hastily prepared sandwiches in the rucksack, along with a couple of chocolate bars and two apples. Theo brought excitement with him, a boyish enthusiasm which made the mundane interesting. The kitchen was filled with his presence.

He finished stowing the food and pulled an ordnance survey map out of the back pocket of the rucksack.

‘So where shall we go?’ he asked, flashing her a smile.

‘I’ve no idea. Where do you suggest?’

‘Have you been to the old chapel yet?’

‘No. Where’s that?’

Theo didn’t answer but began to fold the map up again before it was even open.

‘I don’t need this to go there,’ he said. ‘I could go there in the dark. And luckily the tide’s just right too.’ He put the map away and faced her. ‘Trust me?’ he asked with another smile.

‘Of course,’ she answered, without thinking.

‘Good. Follow me then Alex Munroe. Let’s go exploring.’

*

Up close, the stepping stones across the River Kella looked bigger than they did from the bank. Originally Alex had thought they were single huge stones, but they were each made up of several flattish slabs, stacked and mortared into place. There were nine of them, the top of each a little under half a metre square. And Theo had been right about the tide – she supposed it was ingrained in him – for it had gone out leaving just the middle five stones with their feet in water, more than forty centimetres below their upper surface.

Theo stepped nimbly from stone to stone and then stepped down onto the mudflat on the other side. He turned to face her and grinned.

‘Now you,’ he called.

Alex glanced warily again at the drop down to the water and then stepped across. It was easier than she’d expected and she joined Theo on the drying mud the other side. He led the way onto the farther bank and picked up the narrow track which headed south and west towards the sea. The track wound in and out of the trees, sometimes close to the river bed, sometimes secretive and swathed in greenery. Further inland, the ground climbed steeply, its contours masked by almost unbroken woods.

‘We used to come this way all the time,’ Theo said over his shoulder.

‘Who’s
we
?’

‘Simon and I.’

‘Really?’ The path widened a little and he paused, allowing her to come alongside. ‘Was this your favourite route then?’ She glanced round, imagining the two boys setting out on some sort of adventure. ‘Tell me. Tell me everything.’

Theo laughed.

‘What is there to tell? We were boys. This was the wild side of the river where there were no grown-ups, no-one to tell us to pull our socks up or not to swear. We were Amazon explorers or archaeologists looking for ancient treasure or soldiers escaping hostile fire. In a place like this, with the imagination of a child, it can be anything you want it to be. Yes, I think it was our favourite route.’ He started off again and Alex fell in behind. ‘Watch your step,’ he called back. ‘There are exposed tree roots in places that can trip you up if you’re not careful.’

They’d been walking for ten minutes when Theo took a footpath that branched to the left and climbed, steeply in places, zigzagging around trees and rocks, and then suddenly emerged near the cliff edge. He stopped and waited for Alex to catch up and she came to stand beside him, panting. As she caught her breath she took in the view. Over the trees further down the hill, over the river, she could see Kellaford Bridge like a miniature working model. She could see people walking across the quay, could see Ann Darrecott from the pub, clearing out the ash trays from the outside tables into a bin, and Bob Geaton talking to a man on one of the pontoons, waving his arms and pointing aggressively. Turning to look south, over the edge of the cliffs, there was a clear view out to sea and the horizon.

‘Wow, what a spot,’ she said.

‘Worth the climb then?’

‘Definitely.’

‘This is called Dolphin Point. You can see them out there sometimes.’ He turned away. ‘And this is where the old chapel is.’

Alex dragged her eyes from the view and looked round. Set back from the cliff face, sheltered by a short run of higher ground and a backdrop of trees, stood a tiny stone building with a round-arched doorway in the near side. It still had a roof of sorts, but part of the west wall had fallen down, taking that end of the roof with it, and ivy and nettles had grown up and through the stonework. Theo was already walking towards it. He turned to wait for her in the doorway.

‘What a surprising place for a chapel,’ she remarked, joining him.

‘I suppose so.’ He grinned. ‘But this was the ancient forgotten palace where we would find the buried treasure. Or a castle that had to be defended from our enemies…or each other. This was a magical place.’ He turned, glanced around and up and then stepped inside. Alex stuck her head in the doorway – the door had long since gone – and then followed him in.

It didn’t look much like a church at first glance. The stone floor was cracked and infiltrated with weeds, the walls covered with creepers and lichen. But the arched window facing east still had stained glass in place, some missing, some with holes, but enough to make the sunshine throw rainbow colours across the dusty, leaf strewn floor.