Water Water – episode fifty six

[start at episode one]

A decision for the Margrave

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The days had been dragging for Laura, but for the Margrave they were passing all too quickly, as he counted down the days of the lunar cycle. He had heard nothing more from Joseph, and so he called his Elders together once again, gambling that even those who sympathised with the Sea Mer would not actually want to destroy the Riverways and lose the only home they’d ever known.

 He spoke directly to Jorn, if there was a threat from within it would come from him.

 “We cannot wait any longer Jorn, and there can be no more secrets. Please start by telling us why you have been going to the river so often. Do I have cause to question your loyalty?”

 But it was Arne who spoke up: “I can answer that sire. Jorn wanted to know more about how we used to live, about life in the water, and when the visitors came from the Sea I began to join him.”

 “Join him in what?”

 “We have been teaching ourselves to breathe again.”

 The Margrave’s old eyes opened wide and he leaned forward, gripping the arms of his chair.

 “Go on,” he said.

 “That’s all,” Jorn replied quickly. He had told no one, not even Arne, of the other things he’d been teaching himself about the old ways. Arne thought perhaps Jorn did not want to admit that they had yet to fully succeed with the breathing, but he could see that this was not a moment to be coy and spoke up.

 “What Jorn is trying to say is that it has been a slow process. Our bodies are finding it hard to remember, but I think the muscle memory is there, somewhere deep inside us. We just need more time.”

 “Time is the one thing we don’t have,” said the Margrave. “What you have learned so far, would this help you to travel, to go out into the seas and find them before they return? We must try one last time to negotiate.”

 Jorn and Arne looked at each other and nodded in agreement, then Jorn spoke again:

 “We could go, we are able to move faster at least, and to stay down for longer. We know they used the old trade route to come to the Gathering so if we follow that we should intercept them before they reach our waters.”

 The Margrave looked around the table at the expectant faces of his Elders, all eyes were on him, waiting for his decision. There was no alternative, despite his unease he had to trust Jorn, it was their last hope.

 “Then go, now. You have my authority to do whatever it takes to save our people.”

 He saw Jorn’s eyes glitter and gave them one last piece of guidance:

 “You carry my authority, but you also carry my wishes. You know that we are a peaceful people, and I would always, always wish for a peaceful outcome.”

 “Yes sire,” said Arne as he rose from the table, and Jorn echoed him. Then they were gone, and the Margrave was left to wait once more.

 The trade routes linked all the ancient water peoples and hugged the coastlines from inlet to estuary, crossing open sea where the distances were shortest. They were rarely used now, as those few communities that remained dare not venture far from where they were hidden. Arne knew the way though, and they travelled swiftly, still needing to surface periodically to breathe in the air. As they had hoped, it wasn’t long before they were on the trail of the Sea Mer, and then moving cautiously they caught up with them undetected. They found them gathered at a resting place in a bay in northern France where the Somme met the sea.

 Jorn and Arne took shelter among the huge boulders that formed a breakwater along the shoreline, hiding in the shallow waters until night came and they felt safer. At sunset a group of fishermen came and sat on the rocks, casting their lines out into the darkness.

 For the first time Jorn felt unsure. He had sympathised with the Sea Mer initially, then angered them by not following through. But finding them holed up here, waiting silently to come and attack his home, made him see things more clearly. He had been foolish and vain, damaging his relationship with the Margrave and others, and now it was his chance to make amends. Doing so would bring his dream of leadership closer than any act of rebellion. He turned to Arne.

 “It’s time.”

 Arne nodded. “They call their Margrave ‘King’ and he will be with them I’m sure,” he said.

 “Then we must go to the King,” Jorn replied.

 “No need,” came a voice from out of the darkness, and four figures emerged from the inky water.

 Jorn recognised Leon with others from the Gathering and suddenly felt vulnerable, the rocks and the shore behind him, and the Sea Mer between him and the open sea.

 “Have you changed your mind, would you join us now – now the man and the woman are gone and there is no other choice but to rise?” Leon spoke with contempt. Arne and Jorn began to doubt they had any chance of getting him to listen, but they had to try.

 “There must be no rising,” somehow Arne found his voice, “we cannot allow our waters to be destroyed. We will help you to find a new home, but not like this. Please, the Margrave asks you to be patient, to give us more time.”

 “We have waited long enough,” Leon replied, “you know how much time there is left before we send the tide.”

 Jorn and Arne both lifted their gaze to where a sliver of new moon was just starting to appear above the horizon. They knew.

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Water Water – episode fifty five

[start at episode one]

A welcome call

phone-895707_960_720[1]Laura’s phone vibrated then jingled on kitchen counter. Laura ignored it, frowning in deep concentration, then she gave in, and flung her cards down on the table.

“But I still don’t understand, why can’t I play the king?”

Mrs Patterson put down her own cards and smiled patiently across the table.

“Perhaps we should play a different game my dear?”

“No.” Laura tried not to sound too much like a petulant child. “If I’m going to be stuck in here I might as well do something useful, and my father always said that learning to play bridge would be a social asset.”

“But you can’t play just with two, and the saucepan and the jug are not making ideal partners are they?”

“I suppose not,” Laura conceded, and she went to look at her phone. In any case, contract bridge would be of limited use if the city was flooded and they were all facing imminent death by drowning.

The message was from Rani, again. Over the days that she had been hidden in the flat, or imprisoned as it now felt like, Rani had sent lots and lots of messages, and as instructed Laura hadn’t answered a single one of them.

Instead she had tried to make the best of her situation by persuading Jeannie to bring her a laptop. There was no internet in the unfinished block of course, but Bill had provided some sort of signal booster which allowed her to pick up the wifi from one of the cafes in the street below. She had been able to do some more research, and what she’d found had made her feel ever more uneasy. Stories were starting to appear about water quality across the east of England: fish were dying in the Thames for the first time in years and the bathing ponds were still closed. Problems had also been reported in some of the freshwater marshland habitats in the estuaries along the east coast, with real fears growing for their fragile ecosystems. The Sea Mer had said they’d show what they could do, and this must be their doing.

Laura did not discuss what she’d found with Mrs Patterson, she didn’t want to worry her old friend when she was trying so hard to make things bearable in the flat. It had only taken a day or so for her to get Colin and Harry eating out of her hand, and the two security guards seemed to spend as much time running “little errands” for her landlady as doing any actual guarding.

Not that there seemed to be any danger. The two men had neither seen nor heard anything untoward at all, and Laura was beginning to think that any risk to her must have passed –  surely They would be back at sea or wherever it was they came from by now, busy with their scheming?

As for Joseph, not a word from him. At first Laura vacillated between distress and defiance, but within a couple of days she’d told herself that she could simply pretend that nothing had happened between them. This worked for the most part, but she had not been able to bring herself to take a bath again. And at night she found herself standing at the window looking out at the moon, counting down the days in its cycle and carefully ignoring the reflection of the bed in the glass.

The latest text from Rani sounded even more frantic than the last, begging her to get in touch. She decided to appeal to Mrs Patterson one last time.

“Please Mrs P, please can I just call her? We could meet up somewhere safe, somewhere nearby. You can even come with me if you like.”

Mrs Patterson sighed. This had been a daily argument since she’d come to watch over Laura. Her charge was now fully recovered from her ordeal and was going stir crazy in the confines of the flat. She’d never been much of a one for television, and there was a limit to the number of times she could send the guards off to buy or borrow books. She’d even sent Harry over to Elizabeth at the Transport Museum Library – there was no reason now why Laura couldn’t have those books she’d been asking about all those weeks ago. Laura had appreciated the effort and devoured them gratefully, but she’d had enough.

“I’ll think about it Laura,” she said finally.

‘I’ll think about it’ was an improvement on a flat no, Laura said to herself, retreating to her room and the pile of gossip magazines that Jeannie had brought over the day before. She said she only bought them for the customers in the café, but Laura wasn’t convinced. They were full of rubbish, obviously, but after reading enough of them she caught herself actually wondering about what would happen to the soap star and the footballer after the disaster with the doves at their lavish castle wedding (pictures on pages 5 to 25).

She could hear Mrs P talking quietly. Her landlady had acquired a very basic mobile phone of her own, which she treated as if it were booby trapped. It was kept in a Liberty print spectacles case, and plugged in for its ‘charge up’ for half an hour each morning. Laura had never actually heard it ring, let alone receive any messages, but once or twice it had been used to make a call, always when Laura was out of the room.

Mrs Patterson didn’t mention the phone call when Laura emerged from her bedroom at supper time. She poked about in the fridge for a minute or two and about twenty minutes later had produced Spanish omelettes for them both. While they were eating, the mobile phone rang. The unexpected sound startled them both, but by the time the phone had been found in the drawer and taken out of its flowery case, the ringing had stopped.

“Oh dear,” Mrs Patterson said, looking at it with a forlorn expression on her face.

“Were you expecting a call?” asked Laura.

“Yes I think so.”

“Well they’ll probably call back,” she reassured her, imagining, correctly as it turned out, that the caller would guess what had happened and give Mrs P another chance to answer.

When the phone rang again a few minutes later Mrs Patterson held it gingerly in one hand and poked at the keys hopefully with the other.

“Hello?” she said into it eventually.

Laura heard a muffled voice coming from the receiver.

“Yes, I’ll tell her, thank you. Good bye.”

Mrs Patterson inspected the phone to make sure the call had really ended, before putting it back into its flowery case. Then she turned to Laura:

“I understand that you feel trapped in here, and that you are worried about your friend, so I sent a message to the Margrave, to ask his advice.”

“Really?” Things were looking up, thought Laura, “what did he say?”

“He believes that you could arrange to meet Rani, but there are a few caveats.”

“Of course, anything.”

Anything to get out of the wretched flat, even just for a couple of hours.

“You must go in the middle of the day, and meet at a café or other busy place. Sit outside, in the sun, and don’t stay long. No tube so you’ll have to walk there, and do not tell her where you are staying. Does that sound alright?”

“Alright? It sounds bloody marvellous,” and Laura practically skipped out of the kitchen to go and ring Rani.

Rani couldn’t hide her relief when she saw Laura’s number come up on her phone, but she covered it up in her usual style.

“So where have you been hiding yourself stranger? Been building a little love nest with the mystery man perhaps…”

“What mystery man?” bluffed Laura.

“I spoke to him on the phone, he was asking for you by name so you can’t bullshit me.”

“When was this?” Laura gave up any attempts at denial.

“Nearly two weeks ago now. He sounded quite anxious so I’m guessing he’s keen.”

That must have been before he’d found her. Before… but that night hadn’t happened, had it?

“Where the hell are you anyway? I went to your house but it looks like no one’s been there for ages. What’s happened to your lovely landlady?”

“She’s fine, she’s here with me.”

“That doesn’t sound very romantic Laura!”

“Listen there’s no love nest, okay? But I do want to see you and catch up. Can we meet up, maybe tomorrow lunchtime?”

“Great! You know I’ll wheedle all your secrets out within half an hour don’t you? It’s Saturday tomorrow so let’s go somewhere nice, how about Regent’s Park, or I know, what about that new bar that’s opened on the old Paddle Steamer by Hungerford Bridge, it will be lovely on the river.”

Finally Rani paused for breath and Laura could get a word in.

“Not the river, sorry. How about the café in Hyde Park, we can sit on the sun terrace. Midday?”

“Sun terrace? Really? That’s not like you with your delicate complexion! I’ll bring a parasol just in case. See you tomorrow then.”

Rani hung up and Laura sat for a moment replaying the call in her head, then she went back into the kitchen to clear her plans with Mrs Patterson. Relieved to be getting out of the flat at last, she smiled to herself and shook her head at Rani’s interrogation, love nest indeed.

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Water Water – episode fifty four

[start at episode one]

Rani is worried

terraceIt was 4 o’clock on Friday afternoon and Rani was really starting to worry. It was not that unusual for her friend to spend a weekend incommunicado, in fact she’d never known anyone as happy in their own company as Laura. She herself could not bear to be alone – perhaps that’s what came from being the middle one of five and growing up in a house that was always crowded and chaotic.  But it had been well over a week now and not a word. The Witch had sent an email a few days ago saying that Laura was not going to be in and her work was to be redistributed, but when Rani tried to ask what had happened, Olga just snapped back something about Laura’s landlady phoning in sick on her behalf.

She’d tried calling of course, home and mobile, and had sent a selection of increasingly anxious emails, but still there was nothing. Rani hated not having Laura around, nobody there to moan with over coffee and cake, and no one to appreciate her latest hair colour. And now it was almost the weekend again and still she’d heard nothing. At 17.01 precisely she switched off her computer, threw on her new vintage broderie anglaise summer cape and marched out the room with a don’t even think about asking where I’m going expression on her face.

Rani had only been to Laura’s flat a couple of times as they always tended to meet in town, but she remembered where it was, and her adorable landlady too. In particular she remembered the lemon drizzle cake and lavender shortbread that Mrs Patterson had provided for the “girls” as she’d referred to Rani and Laura when they’d joined her for tea. The old lady had even dug out an old silk scarf in a beautiful geometric sixties print and insisted Rani (who had been channelling Mary Quant that day) have it. She smiled at the memory as she reached the steps of the house, but then frowned as she took in the peeling window frames and blistered front door. The house looked shut up, curtains closed and leaflets sticking out of the letter box. That week’s local freesheet had been left on the doormat and pages from it had blown down the worn stone steps and out into the street. Laura would never have left such a mess.

Rani had no compunction about peeping through the letterbox. She pulled out the crumpled leaflets advertising pizza delivery and taxis to the airport and bent down to take a look. The tarnished brass flap was stiff but she was able push it far enough to get a glimpse of a rectangle of floor strewn with envelopes and yet more leaflets. There was definitely no one home, Rani concluded, as she straightened up and stretched her back before tripping over the curled up corner of the worn coir mat and almost falling straight down the steps. An enormous grey cat was soon winding itself round her ankles, but Rani was not in the mood to fall for Brian’s charms and ignored him. She was extracting her mobile from deep within her voluminous green leather bag to try Laura one more time when she crunched straight into someone and almost dropped it again.

“Sorry,” she muttered automatically before looking up to see who she’d collided with. The pavement had been empty when she’d walked out of Laura’s front gate a second ago so where had this man appeared from – this slightly odd looking man in very strange clothes? Rani always noticed an outfit, and this one was rather special. The long overcoat was particularly striking, especially on such a hot evening, and when coupled with a wide brimmed hat that completely shaded his face he looked like an extra from a second rate spy movie.

“Are you looking for someone?” the man said, not moving from where he stood in the middle of the pavement as a hissing and spitting Brian shot past him at high speed with his fur standing on end. Was this guy for real? Perhaps he was one of those re-enactment types who liked to run around town pretending he was a secret agent or something.

“The only thing I’m looking for is the quickest way to get away from you,” Rani retorted, and scooting round him she stalked off down the street. Glancing back she saw he still hadn’t moved and was watching her.

“Fancy dress isn’t really the done thing in Muswell Hill you know,” she called over her shoulder, “not in daylight anyway!” And tossing her head she turned the corner into the Broadway, and headed for bus stop.

It was only when she was sitting comfortably on the top deck of the bus that she began to think how odd the man really had been. Why was he there outside Laura’s flat, was he looking for her too? This did not seem an especially appealing prospect and as the bus groaned into life and chugged past the end of Kings Avenue, Rani peered through the grimy window up Laura’s street. The pavement was empty again, and she tried to shrug off the sense of foreboding that had crept up on her. She sent one last text to her friend and then got out her headphones – she needed some music.

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Water Water – episode fifty three

[start at episode one]

Joseph sets out

rails-253134_1280By the time Laura and Mrs Patterson were sitting down to talk, Joseph was already on his way. He had driven straight home and made sure the van was parked somewhere safe, away from prying eyes and the attentions of traffic wardens. He had a quick shower and made some toast from the last of a sliced loaf he found in the cupboard, washing it down with black coffee made as strong as he could bear. Then he threw a few clothes into a bag and switched off or unplugged all the obvious things before leaving the flat. He didn’t know when he’d be back again.

It didn’t take long to hail a taxi and he sank gratefully into the worn upholstery. The cabbie was chattering on about some discussion on the radio but Joseph wasn’t listening. Physically still at last, his mind began to race, thoughts of the Mer, their threats and his half-baked plan, swirled around in his brain. And in amongst it all the memories of the night before, flashes of Laura crowding out everything else. The more he tried to ignore them the more vivid they became, until eventually he banged his fist against the door of the cab with a growl of frustration as he tried to clear his head.

The driver stopped talking and looked anxiously in the mirror at his fare – the last thing he needed was a nutter in his cab.

“You alright mate?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Bad night was it?”

“Something like that.”

“I’ll put some of my music on, that’ll calm you down,” and the driver prodded his stereo and turned up the volume.

            ‘By the time I get to Phoenix, she’ll be rising…’

 Of course, what else would it be? Joseph closed his eyes as Glenn Campbell’s sentimental tune filled the cab. At least it wasn’t far to Kings Cross.

At the station he bought a single ticket, taken aback by the price but with no choice but to pay up. Thankfully there was less than half an hour until the train left, time to buy a sandwich but not time enough to lose his nerve. Only once the train was pulling out of the station, non-stop to York and then onwards to Scotland, did he allow himself to think again. It had to be a real possibility, this idea of his, but could he bear to return there to try and make it work?  He’d soon find out.

He’d thought his memories were hazy, it was so long ago, but standing on the firm sand looking out across the Sound it all came flooding back. She’d been ill for so long, as a seven year old he knew only the frail shadow of a mother who could still summon the strength to hold him tight, but could barely walk a hundred yards. She’d talked so often of returning to her beloved Scotland, and that Easter his father had finally been persuaded to take them.

Joseph had loved it up there. He’d played for hours among the rock pools, finding treasures to show his mother who sat on a folding chair, wrapped up in a thick rug and gazing out at the sea, his father always hovering nearby. They’d only left her for moment or two, perhaps he’d wanted an ice cream, or just to go to the loo, but whatever it was by the time they’d returned she was no longer in her chair. Instead she was in the sea, fully clothed and wading out purposefully away from the shore towards some unseen destination. His father shouted after her but she didn’t turn back. It was already up to her chest when he plunged into the water, and by the time he was waist deep she was gone.

The coastguard found her body the following day. The Sherriff’s report said suicide but when he was old enough to understand, as he was learning about the ‘family business’, his father told him about the Sirens, and how he thought that his mother, weakened by her illness, had been lured to her death.

Today only the low hum of the nearby wind farm sang to Joseph, and after gazing at the sea for an age he knew that there was nothing left to torment him now, he would be able to do this. All that remained then was to get on with it, to try and turn his idea into a reality. But where to begin?

It had started to rain so he retreated to a café with a view of the sea and the golf course. Despite the sudden squall there were still plenty of folk trudging up and down the links in pursuit of their balls. Joseph had never understood the appeal himself, though Cosmo was a big fan and frequently tried to persuade him of its joys. He remained firmly on the side of Mark Twain: a good walk spoiled.

Turning away from the hardy souls out on the course he pulled a battered notebook from his pocket. Once bound in fine leather, the cover was now worn and threadbare and the pages hung loose where the stitching had frayed over the years. It was Joseph’s most precious possession, the one he guarded most vigilantly, and in it were recorded the details of all those who had ever worked as he did. Most were long dead, but the book had been updated sporadically, and there were a handful of active names, scattered across the country. He just hoped that there would still be someone up here who could help him now.

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Water Water – episode fifty two

[start at episode one]

Tea and secrets

tea cupLaura woke in the flat for the second time. This time she remembered straight away where she was, and that Joseph had gone. Irritated, she dressed herself in the borrowed clothes and made for the kitchen – now she really did need tea, and to sort this mess out. If he thought she was going to sit here twiddling her thumbs with just Jeannie for company he had another think coming.

But it wasn’t Jeannie she found drinking tea at the kitchen table, it was Mrs Patterson. She stared at the old lady in confusion.

“What are you doing here?”

“Joseph asked me to come.”

“But how did he know to ask you? I never mentioned you to him,” she paused, frowning, “I don’t understand.”

“Sit down Laura, we need to have that chat now.”

So Laura sat at the glass table and listened, as Mrs Patterson talked to her about the links that had drawn them together in this strange chain of events.

Laura learned that when she had felt such relief on finding the flat in Kings Avenue, that feeling of being home at last, Mrs Patterson had also felt a connection. She had sensed something special in Laura, soon noticing how she saw things, how she was aware of her surroundings, her innate curiosity. She had loved having her around, and despite their age difference the two women had slipped easily into a relationship of good friends as well as landlady and tenant.

“I knew you were a solitary soul, content in your own company. We all are.”

“I do have friends you know Mrs P, there’s Rani, and…” Laura broke off, “what do you mean we?”

Mrs Patterson ignored her question for the moment and kept chatting, apologising for trying to sort out her social life for her, for worrying too much.

“That’s why I suggested you go to the cemetery a few weeks ago, I just thought you might meet some nice people. I had no idea there was an open entrance up there.”

“So you knew where I’d been? I don’t get it, why didn’t you say something?”

“I tried, but you didn’t seem to want to tell me. I could tell something had happened, I even thought I could smell lamp oil on your jacket. I rang Joseph straight after you came back, but he wasn’t there, I had to leave a message on his machine.”

“I still don’t understand, how do you know about it all?”

Mrs Patterson took a sip of her tea and carried on with her explanation. She told Laura how a handful of people held the secret, acting as guardians where there was a risk. She herself had been a link, when she was young and fit, handing on the task to Joseph’s father before it fell to him in turn. Others kept watch, or shielded the evidence from prying eyes. All worked mostly alone for their own protection, only communicating with each other if absolutely necessary.

“We all came from the same families originally, the ones who worked on the water, the ones who first saw, many generations ago.”

Laura was thinking, “So the woman at the Transport Museum library?”

“Yes, Elizabeth, an old friend. She came to see me after your visit.”

“And in the archives at Boston Spa?”

“No, the collection there is just heavily guarded. ‘National security’ is a wonderfully useful concept.”

“And now there is me.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“It can be a heavy burden, and it’s one you never lose.”

“Is that what you meant by ‘we’?”

“In a way yes, but I was also talking about who you are, as well as what you are.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I saw it in you, when we first met. It’s hard to explain but it’s a way of being: sometimes slower, sometimes quiet, always listening, always able to see.”

“They said I could see on that first day, I remember. They said I saw them from the train but I was the only one.”

“Yes. Anyone can have it but few do. It is more common in children but they lose the ability as their senses are drowned out by everything around them: television, computers, there’s such an onslaught nowadays. You are one of the lucky few Laura, though you might not think so at this moment.”

Laura didn’t know what else to say.

Mrs Patterson then had some questions of her own, wanting to know all about what had happened to her, what the Sea Mer had said and what was written in the message. She frowned as Laura told her, but then brightened for a moment when she heard about the Gathering. She reminisced about Gatherings she had been to in the past, and clearly the food hadn’t changed much over the years. She recalled that there had been talk of a rising once before, but this time it seemed much more serious.

Finally Laura broached the subject that seemed most pressing, her apparent incarceration in the show flat.

“I don’t really have to stay in here do I?”

“Yes I’m afraid you do. Joseph was right, from what he and now you have told me there is every possibility that they will try and take you again if they think things are not going their way. They seem to think that you are their best chance. Without you they are weakened as we don’t believe they would ever attack the Margrave directly.”

“What about work?”

“I have already telephoned and spoken to your superior, a woman – quite rude – and told her you are unwell.”

 “Olga”

“Yes that was her name, most unpleasant.”

“And where is Joseph anyway?”

Surely Mrs Patterson would be able to tell her, but if she knew she was not letting on, and all she said in response to Laura’s question was:

“He thinks he may be able to find a solution, so he has gone away to try.”

And for the moment at least, that appeared to be that.

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Water Water – episode fifty one

[start at episode one]

An unexpected minder

Warm sun streaming in through the window meant that thinking soon turned to dozing. Jeannie peeped in to the bedroom when Laura hadn’t reappeared after half an hour, but left her undisturbed. At nine thirty there was a soft knock on the front door of the apartment and she opened it to see Colin standing there.

“An old lady just came in a taxi. Were you expecting her?”

“I was expecting someone. Where is she now?”

“Downstairs with Harry. Shall I bring her up?”

“Yes please.”

Colin went back to the lift and Jeannie waited in the doorway, curious to see the ‘old lady’ who must be the relief. Joseph had said that they would arrive before ten.

The lift rattled and groaned down, and then back up again to the tenth floor and the guard reappeared carrying a small leather suitcase. He was followed by a small elderly lady who greeted Jeannie warmly.

“Hello my dear, you must be Jeannie. Joseph told me all about you.”

“Not all I hope?” smiled Jeannie, thinking back to some of the scrapes she and Joseph had got into as kids.

The lady looked confused for a moment but then carried on talking.

“I am Dulcie Patterson, Laura’s landlady. Is she in here?”

“Yes, sorry,” Jeannie hastily stepped aside to let the old lady into the flat. “She’s sleeping. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please, that would be lovely”.  Then she turned to the security guard who had followed her in.

“Just put it anywhere, thank you – Colin, wasn’t it?” He put down the case and beat a hasty retreat, shaking his head. This day was getting stranger and stranger – somehow there were now three women in the flat, when he was not supposed to be letting anyone in. He decided to check with Mr Lunn, just to make sure.

Mrs Patterson settled herself at the kitchen table as Jeannie made tea. If she was going to be here for a while, this didn’t seem like too bad a place, although the chair was rather unforgiving. Jeannie meanwhile had some questions.

“So you’re Laura’s landlady?”

“Yes, she’s lived with me for a couple of years.”

“And that’s how you know Joseph?”

“Oh no, I’ve known Joseph since he was born. I knew his mother well.”

“But she died when he was young didn’t she? There was only ever his dad when we were at school.”

“Yes she did.”

“What happened? Joseph never talks about it, and he’s never mentioned you before.”

“There was an accident. She drowned.”

Jeannie said nothing else. She had been friends with Joseph since she’d been given the job of looking after him when he’d joined her school in the middle of a term, and they had grown up together like brother and sister. She was closer to him than anyone else in the world, apart from her beloved Bill of course, but he’d always had secrets, and she’d somehow always known never to pry.

She suddenly thought of the café and her husband left alone to handle the morning rush. Now that this Mrs Patterson was here she could go home. She showed her where everything was, and wrote down her phone number on the back of an old cash and carry receipt she found in her handbag.

“I can bring shopping over, or anything else you need.”

“Thank you. Joseph said you would help. I’m glad to have met you Jeannie.”

“Okay. Bye then,” and Jeannie let herself out of the flat. Steeling herself for another ride in the dodgy lift she wondered where the stairs might be.

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Water Water – episode fifty

[start at episode one]

Laura wakes

Jeannie didn’t have to wait long. It was going to be another bright summer’s day, and by six-thirty sunlight was streaming into the bedroom and Laura stirred. It took her a few minutes to fully waken, and in her drowsy state she didn’t at first remember what had happened, or even where she was. But then she stretched, and instead of her feet pushing against the sloping wall at the end of her own narrow bed, there was only space. She was laying beneath a white sheet not her familiar old duvet, and then with a jolt she remembered. First her mind went back to the Fort and the fear she had felt, and then her head filled with images of last night and she blushed at the memory. Had that really been her?

Opening her eyes at last she saw he was gone, but then she heard noises from the kitchen and smiled. He must be making tea, or breakfast even, and she was certainly hungry enough. Hungry and sticky, she thought, and in need of a shower before anything else. She padded over to the bathroom and blushed again, remembering how he had carried her from there the night before. Peering over her shoulder into the mirror she could see that the message was almost gone from her skin. She would be glad when there was not even the faintest mark left, nothing to remind her of them.

The huge square shower head poured a hot waterfall onto her and Laura stood still, enjoying how it felt on her body, slightly regretful that it was washing away all traces of Joseph. She didn’t stay there for long though, and after drying herself and putting on the robe that hung on the back of the door, she found the elastic she had taken from her hair when she’d been in the bath. She rinsed it under the tap and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, then she headed for the kitchen.

“I hope that’s tea,” she said as she opened the door, and then stopped in her tracks as it was not Joseph rattling cups but a stranger, a woman.

“Hello,” the woman said, smiling, “you must be Laura.”

Laura said nothing, but clutched the edges of the robe more closely round herself feeling embarrassed and slightly queasy. Where was Joseph, and who the hell was this?

“I’m Jeannie, we met yesterday.”

Laura managed two words, “Did we?”

“You came to my café.”

Then she remembered. She remembered shovelling the food down in a spectacularly unattractive manner, and she also remembered this woman’s hand on Joseph’s shoulder, they were obviously close. Now she really did feel sick and she leaned against the breakfast bar.

“Please sit down, before you fall down,” said Jeannie kindly, “Joseph asked me to look after you for a bit.”

Laura sat, on one of the stylish but very uncomfortable chairs that were tucked underneath the shiny glass table.

“Where has he gone?”

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me.”

“When will he be back?”

“Oh dear.” Jeannie poured out two cups of tea and sat down opposite Laura. “I don’t know, but I can tell you I’ll be giving him a piece of my mind when he does come back.”

“I don’t understand,” Laura said simply, blinking hard and not meeting Jeannie’s gaze.

Jeannie sighed. Poor girl, this clearly wasn’t a regular occurrence for her, and from what little Joseph had told her, she’d already had quite a time of it over the last couple of days without him doing a runner while she slept.

“I don’t know what exactly is going on, and I don’t want to know. Joseph has always been involved in things I know nothing about, but I trust him and that’s good enough for me. He said that he had to leave straight away, that he had to try and sort something out before it was too late. It sounded serious and he asked me to come here to watch you, so here I am.”

“To watch me?”

“He told me that you’ve had a bad experience and you could still be in some sort of danger, but he didn’t give me any of the details. That’ll be why you’re in hiding here?”

“I suppose.”

Laura managed to stop herself from pouting but inside she was fuming. How could he just leave her here, as if she were some useless damsel in distress. He’d needed her help before, but now things had got really interesting he’d just abandoned her. And what about last night? Her cheeks grew hot and she studied her cup.

Jeannie felt Laura’s discomfort, and tactfully got up from the table to wash out her own mug. To try and lighten the mood she told Laura a funny story about Joseph’s antics at the school where they had first met, and then picked up one of the bags she’d brought with her.

“He said you’d need some clean clothes. I hope these are okay.”

“Thanks.”

Laura took the bag and returned to the bedroom. So that was it: she was stuck in this place with Jeannie and a bag of someone else’s clothes to put on. What about work? What about her flat? Mrs P would be worrying. She flopped down onto the bed and wondered how on earth this had all happened, and what exactly she was going to do about it.

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