The Fearful (11 page)

He hurried past the end of the jetty, skirting round the practice dinghy, not looking at them.

Jenny and the two students were at the foot of the second, further jetty, where maybe as many as a dozen small motorboats were tied up. Tim wanted his sister to see him, wanted her to be as impressed with his defiance as he had been with hers. He waved at them.

They didn't see him at first. They seemed to be having too much fun to notice him. Gully was wearing a life jacket and his hair was already sticking up in wet spikes, as though he'd only just jumped off the jet-ski that was beached on the shore close by. He threw back his head as he laughed loudly at some great joke or other his friend had come out with, and Tim was eager to be involved. He reckoned they'd be trying every trick they knew to persuade Jenny into having a go on the back of the jet-ski. But she was shaking he head, holding up her hands in a warding-off gesture. No. She was probably telling them she'd never go out on the water.

Tim was thinking,
I'll have a go
. He glanced back yet again at Mourn Home to make sure there was no one
watching.
Ask me. I don't care. I'll have a go
, he boasted to himself.

The squealing of one of the young kids caught his attention, although he couldn't see exactly which orange and yellow life jacket was making the fuss. An instructor shouted for everyone to concentrate, be sensible. It didn't look as though anybody had fallen in – just over-excitement. And Tim hoped the adults were as in control as they thought they were.

As he turned back to the second jetty he saw Gully suddenly reach out and grab his sister. Jenny tried to push him away. But then Scott also had a hand on her arm. Tim heard her shout and swear and knew she wasn't having fun any more. The students overpowered her, pinned her arms by her sides, dragged her onto the wooden jetty and out over the water.

‘Hey!' he called, forgetting instantly about the young kids. ‘Leave her alone.' He hurried towards them. He didn't run; he didn't think they'd actually throw her in. No way would they go that far.

Jenny was arguing and struggling. They jostled her along the jetty between the motorboats moored on either side. Tim still didn't quite run. He thought the students were just acting up, teasing her, and he didn't want to look like an over-protective brother – or worse, a foolish killjoy. He reached the foot of the jetty himself and saw that they had her teetering over the very end. He heard Scott say something about monsters and the Mourn, taunting her, holding her so her toes literally dangled in thin air.

Gully said, ‘Come on the jet-ski with me or we'll chuck you in.'

Tim started out over the water himself, annoyed at their spitefulness, yet still not believing they were doing any more than winding her up. ‘Leave her alone. You're not funny.'

Gully finally noticed him and said something to Scott that Tim couldn't quite catch. Scott glanced back over his shoulder, saw Tim jogging along the jetty towards them, grinned and winked. Quickly, roughly, he tipped Jenny backwards into his arms, holding her off-balance by the wrists. Gully went for her ankles. She struggled and one of her trainers popped off, but he still managed to sweep her up off her feet. Under different circumstance they could have been friends about to give her the ‘bumps' on her birthday. But it had clearly long stopped being a game for Jenny.

She bucked and shrieked. Too late Tim heard her real fear.

‘
Don't!
' He raced towards them. ‘
No!
'

But on the count of three they threw her over the edge.

‘Jenny!'

His immediate impulse was to catch her and he leaped forward, but it was a vain hope. She twisted in the air like a cat, as though she was going to land on all fours. And she fell out of sight below the end of the wooden jetty. She didn't stop screaming until she hit the water.

‘Jenny!'

He barged between the guffawing students and teetered on the edge himself as he looked down. She'd gone all the
way under. The water had swept back over to fill and cover the splash she'd made.

‘She can't swim, you bastards!'

He was horrified. He couldn't see her. She'd gone all the way
under.
Everything his father had ever said and warned and threatened rushed through his head. He was frantic. He knew he should go in after her. He knew he should fetch Bill. He didn't dare do either.

‘She can't
swim
!'

His brain seemed to slip out of synch somehow and he was aware of all sorts of different things at once – like the kids at the sailing school all watching, like the grey sky and sharp wind, like the students laughing – and time seemed to have slowed down, yet his thoughts were racing, trying to come up with some kind of reasonable explanation for what was going on that didn't end in catastrophe. Jenny was in the Hundredwaters.
Stay away from the water,
their father had always told them. But Jenny had gone all the way under.

And he didn't dare go in after her.

‘JENNY!'

Suddenly she burst up to the surface, spluttering, floundering, gasping for breath. She flailed her arms for something solid to grab hold of and slipped under again. Tim kept shouting her name. He sprawled flat on his belly, reaching for her, but the jetty's wooden platform was too high above the water. He could see the churning, frothing waves she was making as she fought. But he still couldn't go in after her.

Again she broke the surface and this time managed to get her feet underneath her. She staggered, spitting and coughing. Thankfully the lake was nowhere near as deep here as it was around the feeding pier at Mourn Home; it only came to her shoulders, although whenever she moved it splashed up around her mouth. She held her arms out in front of her – Tim guessed she was on her tiptoes – her hair plastered across her white, frightened face. He tried reaching for her again and when she gripped his hand the icy cold of her skin shocked him.

He knew he'd never be strong enough to pull her back up onto the jetty. ‘You'll have to go round. Jenny, listen. You'll have to walk round and up the shore.'

‘Go in and get her,' Gully said from behind him. ‘It's not deep.' He even nudged him with his foot as though he was considering kicking him in as well.

Tim savagely shoved the foot away. ‘Get off me, you bastard!'

Scott just laughed. ‘Go on. Dive in and save her. Quick before the monster comes!'

Gully started humming the
Jaws
theme tune.

Jenny was shivering and white; she wouldn't let go of Tim's hand – he was at full stretch just to be able to reach her. She was desperate to scrape her hair out of her eyes and she spluttered and coughed as the water splashed around her mouth and nose. She was turning this way and that, her eyes wide, searching the water frantically. Because she would also have their father's words running through her head.
Never go in the water.
She'd had sixteen years of listening to the legend exactly the same as Tim had.

‘You've got to go round.' He tugged on her hand to try and get her moving. The kids from the sailing school were all staring; one of the instructors shouted to ask if everything was okay. ‘Come on, Jenny. You've got to get out.'

‘You go in and get her,' Scott said. ‘Why don't you help her?'

Tim didn't understand how they could be so flippantly cruel, because one look at Jenny's face was surely enough proof for anybody to believe just how terrified she was. He found it impossible not to glance out at the deeper water.

‘Come on, Jenny. Please.' He was begging her. He yanked on her freezing hand.

‘Just get out of my way,' Gully said. He knocked Tim to one side as he took a two-step run-up and jumped off the jetty himself. He curled into a bomb before he hit the water, making the biggest splash he possibly could.

Jenny shrieked. Tim leaped back so he wouldn't get showered by cold, dirty lake water. Scott thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

Gully surged up to the surface. The wave he caused would have swamped Jenny again if he hadn't swept her up in his arms. Like all the best movie heroes he waded towards shore with her clinging to him.

Tim hurried down the jetty to the pebbly beach. ‘Are you okay? Jenny?'

Once on dry land she squirmed and writhed in Gully's arms, so he had drop her onto her own feet straight away.

‘Hey, you're a hero,' Scott told him.

He squirted a mouthful of water in a long jet. ‘Yeah. I
know.' He grinned widely. It was all just one big game. He probably didn't even realize how frightened Jenny really was.

Tim took his coat off and put it over her shoulders. ‘You're okay, yeah? You're all right?'

‘. . . freezing . . .' she told him in a small voice. She was dripping, teeth chattering. Water ran in quick little rivulets down her forehead and face. She looked back yet again at the water, as if expecting the Mourn to swish by, just missing her, like monsters did in the movies. And she took a quick couple of steps further up the shore.

He tried to rub a bit of heat into her. ‘We'd better get home; get you warm.'

She nodded, shuddering violently with the cold, wiping the water from her eyes again and again.

Gully had a stupid smirk all over his face. ‘We had to do it,' he said. He swept his dripping hair back off his forehead. ‘To prove to you there's nothing to worry about. And now you know that nothing's gonna get you, you can come out on the back of the jet-ski with me.'

‘Just piss off,' Tim told him.

Scott stepped in front of them. ‘Hey, is that all the thanks he gets for saving your sister when you were too chicken-shit to do it yourself?'

Tim tried to pull Jenny away, but she wouldn't let him.

‘Why did you do it?' she asked, honestly wondering.

‘We were messing about,' Gully said, defensive now. His grin slipped; he was shivering too. ‘It was just meant to be a joke.'

‘You knew I was frightened, and you still threw me in.'

‘Didn't think you'd
really
freak out.' He rolled his eyes, tried to laugh. ‘It was just a joke.' He wrapped his arms around himself as he shuddered with the cold.

‘Yeah. Very funny.' She turned her back on him.

Tim held his arm around her shoulders. ‘Come on.' He led her away, ignoring Gully's protestations.

‘Don't you want this?' Scott held out Jenny's lost trainer.

Tim snatched it from him but pulled his sister away before she had a chance to put it back on.

‘Don't tell Mum and Dad.'

Tim shook his head. They hurried past the stares of the kids in the sailing club and he kept his arm around her shoulders, trying to cuddle some warmth into her. She was shivering violently so he forced her to jog most of the way home. She was a mess. Her hair hung in ropes, she smelled of cold and dirty water and her trainers squelched with every step. He felt guiltier than he had ever done in his life before because he'd not even got the toe-tip of his own trainers damp.

The Feed was over for another week; there was no sign of the guests, the Fearful or their parents so they managed to slip inside through the main entrance and went immediately to Jenny's bedroom. Anne was probably driving Nana Dalry home while Bill would be around the far side of the lake.

Jenny's room was on the floor below Tim's and although it was smaller it was a heck of a lot tidier – he often wondered how she managed it. It must have been a couple of months since the last time he was in here and he noticed she'd
recently taken most of her cheesy band posters down. They'd been replaced by more arty stuff: a New York skyline, a print of a famous painting he recognized but couldn't name. Her bookshelf was also full of books he'd never seen before. He was embarrassed by the childish mess of his own room all over again. How much proof did he really need that Jenny was growing up quicker than him?

He didn't know whether or not she actually wanted him hanging around right now but he wasn't about to leave. He wanted to talk to her even if she didn't want to talk to him. His head was spinning with all the things he wanted to say.

He stood at her single window as she changed. The view wasn't quite as impressive as from his room: her window faced south-west, onto the stretch of shoreline and lake which included the Mourn Stone, the feeding pier and the ragged curve of the water towards the woods. As he stood there he saw their father emerge from the trees, heading back this way.

‘Looks like we only just made it in time,' he said. ‘Another ten minutes and we would have walked right into Dad.'

Jenny pulled on a jumper and also looked out. ‘Do you think he saw what happened?'

‘Even if he did, we were all the way over on the other side and he wouldn't have been able to tell it was us.'

Jenny nodded, but still seemed worried.

‘Are you okay?' It was maybe the tenth time he'd asked. And when she nodded again he said, ‘You're sure, yeah?' It was guilt making him keep on asking.

She sat on her bed, pulled her knees up under chin and wrapped her arms around them as if she was still cold.

‘Why did they do it? I didn't think they would. I can't believe they just threw you in like that.' Tim couldn't settle. He hovered at the window. Then, with a tut and sigh, he moved over to sit at her desk, where he swivelled back and forth on the thinly cushioned seat as though he was uncomfortable. ‘I don't get why they did it.'

‘Because they're wankers,' Jenny said.

He got up again, walked over to her new bookshelf, began prodding and poking at her books. He couldn't help but feel impressed with her. She'd been bullied, terrorized and freezing cold, and not once had she cried.

‘Because they don't care about anybody else and think they can get away with doing anything they want,' she said.