Still Waters (22 page)

“The
reports for work. They were about Still Waters, weren’t they?”

“No,”
I say quietly, trying to get him to look at me. “They were for the
Environmental Protection Agency, about the water samples I have. I was going to
send it today. I still will.”

“I
don’t know what to believe,” he says and closes his eyes. I touch his hair, run
a thumb over his eyelids, press my cheek to his as my tears fall. But when he
opens his eyes again I know. Anything I say now is pointless; his mind is
already made up. He stands up awkwardly, looking at the bed quickly, the sheets
still tangled from lovemaking and sleep. Then he takes a deep, shaky breath and
steels himself to meet my eyes.

“You
need to go.”

“No,
Crew,” I sob as I grab a handful of his t-shirt in my fist. “Please don’t do
this.”

He
reaches down and gently pries my fingers off him one by one.

“I
can’t look at you. Please, Hartley,” he says, and then it’s so much worse,
because then he’s crying, too. “If you meant any of it, even just one little
part, then you’ll do this for me. Please, I need you to get away from me. Go.”

I
take a sharp intake of breath and press a hand to my chest. Oh my God. This is
really ending. He waits silently by the door as I numbly throw my things into a
bag. When I’m ready, he steps in front of me, blocking my path.

“Before
you go,” he says quietly, as he picks up a curl and tucks it behind my ear. “I
want you to know something. I meant it. I meant every second.”

He
steps aside then and quietly opens the door. I stumble out, grasping the
railing, my vision blinded by tears. When I reach the Main Lodge, Evita turns her
back when she sees me coming. The two Muscles are waiting by the door to escort
me off the property. David opens the car door and stands aside, putting a hand
on my shoulder and pushing me roughly into the back seat. I fall in, pulling my
bag after me.

I’m
too shocked and too heartbroken to say anything for most of the ride to the
airport. When I do speak, it feels like an enormous effort to pull such a
simple, three-letter word from my brain.

“Why?”

David
looks over in surprise and then runs his eyes over me from the hair he’s always
hated, to the glasses he wishes I didn’t wear and down over the clothes he
probably thinks are cheap and messy.

“Please,”
he smirks. “It was too easy. Once you replied to my email, your IP address led
me right here. And there’s quite a lot of information about Crew Sullivan if
you know where to look for it. I have to admit, I was surprised when I saw him.
Not really your type, is he?”

“But
why, David?” I cry, “Why did you say all of that stuff? Do you know how much
that hurt him? Even if you wanted me back, why couldn’t you leave him alone?”

“Because,
darling,” he smiles as he reaches over and runs a hand slowly up my leg. “If I
can’t have you I’ll make sure no one ever will.”

Hartley

I wonder what he’s doing now. I can’t close my
eyes without seeing his face, the way he looked at me, his eyes full of tears
and his skin sickly gray. I miss him already. Next to me, David looks on his
phone and reads over some paperwork he brought with him. It’s so typical of
him. He’s missing the mountains and the forest and the sun that’s just
beginning to set. He doesn’t look out the window once. Every now and then he
slides over closer to me and tries to get me to talk to him. But I know that if
I take one look in his direction I’ll claw his eyes out. So I keep my body
turned away and stare out the window like a petulant teenager. When at last we
pull into the parking area of the private airstrip, I see the Preston plane
waiting on the runway. We pull up next to a black SUV and David waits until the
driver walks around to open his door. I can’t get out quick enough. I throw my
bag over my shoulder and walk around the car just as the door of the SUV opens
and my father steps out. We freeze for a second, staring at each other, and
then his years of social training kick in and a slow smile spreads across his
face.

“Bug!”
he cries, walking towards me with his arms outstretched. “It’s so good to see
you.”

I
back away from him and throw my bag at my feet.

“I
can’t even look at you,” I hiss. “You ignored me for weeks, knowing what a
horrible position you were putting me in, then you intimidate my friend and
chase me down here.
 
I could maybe
forgive you for that Dad, in time, but then you had to send that bastard in to
completely ruin any happiness I might have had! And I will never, ever forgive
you for that.”

He
crosses his arms and looks at me like I’m three years old again, crying because
I can’t have another ice cream after dinner.

“David
is a good man, Hartley,” he says coldly. “Yes, I knew what his plans were. And
yes, I agreed with them. How much do you really know about Crew Sullivan? Did
you know he’s been in jail in South America for God’s sake? What were you
thinking?”

“I’m
not discussing him with you,” I say through gritted teeth. “And I’m not giving
you the samples, so you’ve wasted your time coming down here.”

“Hartley,”
he scolds, “we’ve been through this already. You have to give me the samples and
the files you stole. There’s no other way to save Jefferson. You know that.”

“It’s
too late,” I lie. “I’ve sent the samples and the report to the EPA. You deserve
everything you get for covering up what Preston is doing to that area, Dad. I’m
not going to let you put the responsibility of what happens to Jefferson onto
me. It’s not fair.”

“Hartley!”
he roars and then the door on the other side of the car opens. I hear my mother
before I see her, her heels clacking on the tarmac.

“Now,
let’s all calm down,” she soothes in her ‘damage control’ voice.

“Mom?
What are you doing here?”

She
looks at me and her eyes widen a little.

“Hartley?”
she says, looking me up and down. “Darling, what are you wearing?”

I
can’t take it anymore.

“What
am I wearing?” I scream at her. She opens her mouth and looks at my dad.

“Hartley,”
he growls, “we don’t behave this way. Lower. Your. Voice.”

Behind
them, David is watching the scene in amusement.

“No!”
I scream even louder. “I will not lower my voice.”

Only
I’m not shouting now; I’m doubled over, my arms wrapped around my middle as I
push the words out through deep wracking sobs.

“Davy,”
sniffs my mother looking around anxiously. “Get her on the plane. She’s quite
hysterical, and people are looking.”

David
takes a step towards me, and I instinctively move back.

“I’m
not getting on a plane with you.”

“Don’t
be ridiculous,” David says and takes another step forward.

“I’m
not getting on a plane with you!”

He
looks to my father for help, and I seize the opportunity, picking up my bag and
running towards the small office attached to the aircraft hanger. The man
sitting behind the desk looks up in surprise and on seeing my face leaps to his
feet and turns the lock on the door. Through the blinds I can see David trying
to console my mother who looks quite fed up, and my father standing facing the
office, staring at the windows as if he can intimidate me into coming out just
by the look on his face. Well, I’m not six years old anymore. I’m not going
anywhere. The light fades quickly, and soon it’s completely dark. The man in
the office turns on the lights and hands me a cup of coffee and a box of
tissues. Soon we see the lights on the Preston plane and the windows in the
office begin to rattle with the vibrations of the engines. The next time I look
out the window there’s nothing there.

“Miss?”
says the man in English. “I will call for you?”

“Please,”
I answer in Spanish and see the relief wash over his face. “Please, will you
check that the young man is gone?”

He
nods and opens a drawer in his desk, pulling out a gun. I watch him unlock the
door and step out, locking the door behind him. He returns a few minutes later.

“They
are all gone. Are they your family?”

“Yes.”

“Good
riddance.”

“Yes.
Good riddance.”

“Do
you need a lift anywhere?”

I
look down at my feet and then back up to meet his eyes.

“The
airport, please. I’ll pay you for the trip.”

He
shakes his head sadly and picks up my bag.

“I
think you need some kindness,” he says quietly as he opens the door for me. “It
will be my honor to give that to you.”

We
arrive at Caracas airport an hour later, and the man pulls up outside the
departure lounge. I turn to him and grasp his warm, weathered hand in mine.

“Thank
you so much for your kindness,” I whisper. “I never asked your name.”

“It’s
Samuel,” he says quietly, patting my hand with his.

I
look into his eyes and only then do realize I’m crying as his face begins to
blur. “I’m Hartley Preston. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You
go now,” he says in his deep, lilting voice. “You go and be happy.”

I
nod and open the door, flooding the car with noise and lights. “Thank you,
Samuel. I’ll try.”

But
happiness suddenly seems like an impossible, intangible dream. How can anything
in the future ever compare to swimming in the warm sea with Crew, both of us
laughing as I try to teach him how to do a handstand; my fingers running down
his strong back as he kisses me and whispers things in my ear; my body lying
next to his in the cabana as he read his books, his skin all salty and sexy
from the sea?

The
airport is loud and bright, and it overwhelms me after a week in the forest and
the long, silent car ride in the dark. I get in people’s way; they bump against
me as they rush past, making me jump. Eventually, I find the ticket counter and
manage to find enough connecting flights to get me back to Twin Heads. I find
the gate and sit on the floor against the wall, my bag clutched to my chest.
When the flight is called, I stumble onboard and take my seat and when the
plane lurches forward, the wheels finally breaking contact with the earth, I
have to press the back of my hand to my mouth to stop myself from crying out.
Because he’s down there, somewhere, maybe in his treehouse with his candles
lighting up the room. And I’m up here, moving away from him instead of towards
him. I feel the wrench as though we’re forcibly pulled apart.

Hartley

I don’t know what the time is, but it’s gloomy
and cold, and the streetlamps have just turned on. I open the gate and walk up
the steps to the door, taking two or three deep breaths before I knock.

“Hartley!”
Eleanor cries as she pulls me inside by the shoulders. “Jake! Get a blanket off
the bed, quick. She’s absolutely frozen.”

Jake
appears from the living room, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees me. He
heads straight to the bedroom, and I wonder briefly how it is that he knows
exactly where that is.

“Give
me your bag, Hart,” Eleanor says, and I hand it to her numbly. She drops it on
the floor and gently leads me to the living room by the hand.

“Here
we go,” Jake says kindly as he wraps a thick blanket around my shoulders. “I’ll
make you a cup of tea.”

He
gives Eleanor a look and walks out of the room. I look around me at the
fireplace and the familiar photos on the walls and then over to Eleanor’s
worried face. Everything seems slightly out of time, as if I’m two milliseconds
behind everyone else.

“Oh,
Hart,” she says and pulls me to her. “I’m sorry.”

“I
can’t, I can’t,” I gasp and she rubs her hand on my back in strong circles.

“Ssssh,
you’re here now, it’s ok.”

“No,”
I shake my head against her shoulder. “You don’t understand what I’ve done. He
was getting better. It was working.”

“What
are you talking about?” she murmurs and strokes my hair. “What was working?”

“She
means Crew,” Jake says quietly from the doorway. He’s holding a tray with a
teapot and three cups. “We talk every day. It’s one of my rules. I let him go
if he promises to check in at least once a day. He told me how much you’ve
helped him with his nightmares.”

He
walks over and places the tray on the coffee table and sits down on the sofa.

“Jake,”
I stammer, “Jake I need to talk to him. Right now. Can you give me his number?
Is he still in Venezuela?”

Eleanor
looks at Jake expectantly, but his shoulders slump, and he shakes his head.

“I’m
sorry, Hartley. He doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“But
you don’t understand,” I say to him. “I need to speak to him tonight, it’s
really important, please, please, Jake.”

I
can hear that my words are coming out too fast, as if there are no spaces in
between them.

“Hey,
calm down there,” Eleanor says as she hands me my tea and looks pointedly at
Jake. “Drink this.”

I
sip my tea slowly while they watch me.

“Jake,”
I say, when I’ve calmed down enough to take in what’s happening around me. I
look at the way he’s leaning back on the couch with his arm resting on the
back, his feet bare and his face unshaven. “Do you live here?”

Eleanor
looks at me in surprise, and Jake opens his mouth and then shuts it again.

“He
doesn’t live here, exactly,” Eleanor says, giving me a look that means we
should talk more about this later. “He’s just been staying here for a while.”

I
see Jake hide his grin with his teacup.

“Jake,”
I mumble, putting my tea back on the tray. “I know this is hard to understand,
but Crew and I are on the same side. I left something on a laptop there, if you
can ask him to just look at it, then he’ll know that I want what he wants.”

He
looks at me and sighs. “He told me about the laptop. He sent it on an overnight
courier to your cottage. He said to tell you that he hasn’t read anything on
it, and he’s going to leave it up to you to choose what you want to do with the
information you have about Still Waters.”

“What’s
Still Waters?” Eleanor asks. “Wait, I’m confused.”

So
I tell them both about Still Waters, the water samples at Bridal Falls and the
plans Crew showed me in Venezuela. I tell them about my father and what David
said to Crew and how he acted like a cat with a mouse when he finally got me in
the car with him. They listen quietly, Eleanor scowling and Jake muttering a
few bad words when we get to the David part. And then we’re all quiet.

“Jake,”
I say at last. “How did he sound, when you last spoke to him?”

He
looks at me, and the answer is there in his eyes.

“He’s
not good, Hart.”

“Will
you tell him that I’m sorry?”

He
nods kindly.

“I
think he already knows that, honey. Nor, let’s get her into bed.”

Eleanor
hurries down the hall to make up one of her spare ‘future baby’ bedrooms. Jake
puts an arm around my back and under my knees, scooping me up into his arms
with ease. I lean my head against him as he carefully carries me down the hall.

“Crew
said he told you about the baby,” he whispers, as we get near the door to the
bedroom. “He’s never told anyone about that before.”

I
look up into his face and bite my lip as my eyes fill with tears. Who will
listen to the best parts of his day before he goes to sleep now? Who will hold
him when he tosses and screams and the dreams threaten to take him?

“Goodnight,”
Jake says, laying me down on the bed gently. “Try to sleep, ok?”

Eleanor
puts a glass of water and some painkillers on the bedside table and pulls the
blanket up and over me.

“Sleep
tight, Hart,” she says, flicking off the light and shutting the door.

I
lie awake for hours, unable to sleep in the strange room with the heavy
blankets and the sound of the wind rattling the windowpanes next to me. I’ve
grown used to being held as I sleep, my limbs tangling with his, the sheets a
knotted mess in the warm room. I have never felt more alone. When I do fall
asleep I wake an hour later, cold and wanting, my body cruelly remembering the
late-night lovemaking it had grown accustomed to. I watch out the window as
dawn arrives and then I rise early, lighting the fire and making breakfast for
when Nor and Jake wake up. My head pounds incessantly and my fingers shake on
the knife when I try to cut the bread.

“Morning,”
Jake says as he rounds the corner and walks into the small kitchen. He’s
wearing a t-shirt that looks as though he’s slept in it, and he’s pulled on a
pair of jeans, probably for my sake. “Did you get any sleep?”

“A
bit,” I say quietly. He notices my struggle cutting the bread and gently places
his hand over mine.

“Let
me do that.”

I
stand back and watch him cut the bread in smooth, even slices. He holds the
knife oddly with his right hand and only then do I notice the roadmap of scars
weaving their way across the top.

“You
don’t have to be nice to me,” I whisper.

He
looks up from the bread, his eyes round.

“Why
wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

“I
broke his heart. It was already broken, and I broke it again.”

Jake
puts the knife down on the bench and walks around to face me.

“Hey,”
he says, pulling me into his arms for a hug. “Let me tell you something, and
you’ve got to really listen to what I’m saying, ok? Don’t just dismiss it.”

“Ok,
I sniff. He takes his arms from around my back and places them on my arms,
rubbing them up and down like he’s trying to warm me up.

“I’ve
known Crew all my life. I knew him before the accident, and I know him now. My
dad and I have bailed him out and flown across the world to bring him home more
times than I can count. We’ve nursed him when he wouldn’t come out of his room
for weeks at a time, and we’ve put up with him when he’s acted like a complete
asshole. We’ve tried everything, Hartley. Nothing has worked. When he came home
this last time, I really thought we were going to lose him. But then you came
along. You’ve brought him back to life.”

“But,
he believed David…”

“You
just need to give him some time.”

“But
he - ”

“Trust
me, Hartley. Give him some time.”

Behind
us, Eleanor walks into the room and quietly takes in the scene.

“Right,”
she says in her typical no-nonsense manner. “Tell us what we can do to help,
and we’ll do it.”

Jake
walks behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kisses the top of her
head.

“You
heard the lady.”

“The
samples,” I say, looking at Eleanor, “where are they?”

“I’ve
taken care of that,” Jake smiles. “They’re in an old ice cream refrigerator at The
Sea Shack.”

“Jake
took them there when your parents came into town,” Nor explains. “I felt weird
about having them here with your dad turning up at my door all of the time.”

“That’s
good, Nor,” I say quietly, taking her hand. “Thank you for looking after them
for me. I’m sorry I just dumped this on you without telling you what was going
on.”

She
squeezes my hand. “No problem.”

“The
laptop should arrive today. I need to print everything and get the report and
the samples to the EPA as soon as possible.”

“Ok,
done,” Eleanor smiles. “And what about Crew?”

Jake
unwinds his arms from around her waist and turns her so that she’s facing him.

“Crew
isn’t ready to speak to her,” he says quietly and even though I can only see
the back of her head, I know that she’s frowning.

“Can’t
you talk to him? Make him understand that this isn’t her fault?”

Jake
looks at me helplessly over Eleanor’s head.

“Nor,”
I say quietly, “Jake is right. And I’m not completely blameless. I lied about
who I am, and I didn’t act on the samples quick enough. Every time he asked me
about my past or our future together, I avoided talking about it. Even if I
didn’t tell him any outright lies, it would feel the same to him.”

She
moves to one of the barstools she repainted last summer in a buttery shade of
yellow.

“So
what, you just do nothing?”

I
shake my head. “No. After I send the report I need to go to Jefferson. I’m
leaving tonight.”

“What?”
she cries, spinning on her seat to face me. “But you just got here, and you’re
exhausted! Jake, she should stay here for a few days at least, right?”

He
looks at me carefully and then meets her eyes.

“No,
Nor, she should go.”

Eleanor
opens her mouth to say something, but he puts a hand on hers, silencing her.

“Hartley
doesn’t need you to take care of her. She’s a big girl. If she thinks she needs
to be in Jefferson, then that’s where she should go.”

I
look at him and smile in thanks. I’m beginning to see exactly what Crew loves
so much about Jake O’Reilly. If Jessie was anything at all like her twin
brother, then that girl must have been all kinds of wonderful.

The
courier van arrives soon after I get home. The house is cold and stale after
being shut up for over a week, but I don’t care. I’m not planning on staying
long. I’m in my bedroom, folding clothes and putting them into a suitcase when
I hear the knock on the door.

“Hartley
Preston?” the man says briskly as he pulls his collar up against the cold. “I
have two boxes for you. Sign here.”

“Are
you sure it’s two?” I call after him, but he’s already opened up the back of
the van and disappeared inside. He emerges a minute later with two brown boxes.
My breath catches in my throat when I see Crew’s loopy handwriting scrawled
across the top. The man puts the boxes inside and leaves with a wave of his
hand. I close the door behind him and take a breath.

The
first box is smaller, and it contains the laptop as promised, wrapped carefully
in bubble wrap and the power cord wound neatly into a figure eight. My heart
sinks when I see that there’s no note. The second box holds the science
journals Crew gave me that day in the cabana. Just the sight of them makes me
clutch at the wall and weep. I close the flap on the box with my foot and
refuse to look at it for the rest of the day.

By
the time I’m ready to leave for the airport I’ve finished everything on my
list. The report and samples are on their way by urgent courier to the EPA, and
the house is packed up. I don’t know when I’ll be back in Twin Heads but
there’s a good chance I won’t make it here before my six month lease is up.

“Ready?”
Eleanor says, as she presses the accelerator and pulls away from the curb.

“Yes.”

“Are
you sure about this?”

I
turn to her, and lean over quickly to kiss her cheek. “Yes.”

“This
is going to be a shit storm; you know that right? You’re going to be in the
papers and on the news, this is going to be really, really big.”

She’s
not telling me anything I haven’t already thought of, but hearing it out loud
still sends a wave of nausea through my belly.

“I
know. But I still have to do it. My family has been threatening Crew and his
staff for three years, and they’re knowingly polluting a beautiful area of the
forest without any regard for the consequences. I can’t let them get away with
it.”