The Swimmer

by David Haynes

  The little engine screamed for second gear as she played the message again. Bashed up? What the hell does that mean? She knew there was no use speculating, she’d be there in a few minutes, but her mind had raced into all the dark nooks and crannies where the wicked thoughts lived.

  She reached the car park at the top of the cove where she should be able to see the lights from Joe’s cottage but the vista was darkness. The Longships lighthouse flashed faintly in the distance and the shore lights from Land’s End twinkled like some far-off star, but apart from those two sources, it was absolute darkness.

  May got out of the car and paused for a moment. She realised she hadn’t got a clue how she was going to get down to the boat shed. The only torch she owned was lying in the field somewhere by Joe’s cottage. She peered into the gloom and tried to discern the footpath but it was no use. Rain hammered on the bonnet of her crumpled car, it sounded like the march of an advancing army and it sent her hurrying back inside. She flicked the car lights on but they only illuminated a few metres before the slope of the land made them useless. She looked at her mobile which still registered the missed call and pressed the ‘return?’ button.

  After only one ring the call was answered and a ghostly voice seemed to whisper something unintelligible into her ear. Whatever the voice was saying was being drowned out by the howling wind in the background and she ended the call. She banged her hands on the dashboard in frustration and switched the car lights off again. She couldn’t just sit here waiting; she had to try at least.

  The first few steps were easy and the next few she did from memory but with each further step May realised she was literally feeling for the ground with her toes. She knew there was no sheer drop, but the idea of a twisted or broken ankle didn’t fill her with any enthusiasm. Eventually, she reached the stone wall which marked the end of the first and easiest section of the path. She stopped and peered again into the darkness; hoping to see some signs of life.

  The first swing of a lantern light was faint and fleeting and she wasn’t sure if she hadn’t imagined it. The second was definite and powerful, illuminating the rain drops in its path. Further down the path, almost in the cove itself, May saw the lantern was moving closer towards her and she clasped her hands to her mouth in relief. She couldn’t see any figures but there was no reason it should be anyone other than Joe and Charlie.

  “Hi May.” A voice shouted from close behind. She spun around quickly in shock and was blinded by a powerful torchlight. She covered her eyes and shouted back. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s Chris. Sorry you can open your eyes again.”

  May looked up. The tall figure of Chris Spencer was standing right in front of her. He nodded towards the light swinging below them. “I’ll go and help my brother bring him up. Just wait here.”

  May nodded and watched as he wound his way down the path until the two light sources met. They danced together for a moment before they moved apart and started their swinging motion back towards her.

  The anxiety she’d felt had lessened now she knew Joe was being brought back up but exactly how he was being brought up still worried her. Chris hadn’t appeared too concerned, but then again finding the dead swimmer hadn’t fazed him.

  The swinging lights were almost hypnotic, swaying perfectly in time with each other on their laborious ascent. May didn’t take her eyes off them, even when they stopped moving completely. She strained to hear any conversations which might indicate what state Joe was in, but the sounds of the ocean mauling Priest’s Cove were all she could hear.

  After what felt like hours, she was finally able to see three distinct figures moving towards her. They were in a line across the path with Joe being supported in the centre. She couldn’t help herself and she ran towards them. “Oh God, Joe! Are you okay?” She almost skidded into them as she threw her arms around him. She pulled back and grabbed his face with both of her hands. She heard him wince and she withdrew immediately. “I was doing fine until you tried to smash my face in just then.”

  “Oh god I’m so sorry I didn’t mean…” She threw her arms around him again.

  Joe laughed. “It’s okay.”

  May pulled away again. “What the hell have you been doing?” She tried to see any obvious injuries but the light was too poor.

  “I’m okay, honestly, but would you mind if we went inside and spoke about it? I’m frozen rigid.”

  Once the four of them reached the cottage, Charlie and Chris left May to take Joe inside. Joe tried to insist on them coming inside for a drink, but his voice trembled with cold so badly that his words came out like he was yodelling. Instead, he hugged both of them in turn, not caring if they were hugging men or not.

  The first thing May did when they got inside was take Joe straight to the bathroom. He sat shivering in the wetsuit on the toilet seat whilst she ran the bath. It wasn’t until she turned around that she saw the full extent of his injuries. His left eye had closed over completely and was already turning a deep purple colour. A trail of blood ran from inside his hairline down the left side of his face. She leant over and looked at the cut; the bleeding had stopped and the rain had done a decent job in washing it. “It doesn’t look too bad but I think we should get you to the hospital all the same.”

  Joe exhaled long and hard, trying to steady his breathing. “If you take me away from that hot bath, I think I might kill you.”

  May laughed. “Okay, okay but after the bath we’re going. Where’s the bubble bath?”

  “Bubble bath? Next to the moisturiser and the candles. Use the shower gel.” He stood up slowly. “Before anything else, you’ll have to help me out of this thing.”

  “Now there’s an offer. Turn around and I’ll unzip you.”

  Joe carefully lowered himself into the bath and May left him to make the fire in the other room. His head pounded with every pump of his heart and the hot water made the pounding quicker. He closed his good eye against the pain and sank lower into the water. As his heart rate steadied, the pounding beat quietened. May returned a few minutes later and gently dabbed at his wounded scalp.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened then?” May spoke gently.

  Joe recounted his journey on the kayak to the Brisons and detailed the massive metallic cover which he’d found. May wanted to ask questions but she knew the best thing for Joe was just for her to listen; besides she was so relieved to be hearing his voice again. Joe didn’t offer any opinion on what he’d found, partly because he didn’t have any idea what it was but also because he hoped May might tell him she knew what it was. He paused when he reached the part of his journey when his kayak and head had collided with the giant granite crocodile.

  He’d been underwater and could remember how cold he’d felt and how he’d just wanted to close his eyes and sleep. A pair of hands had grabbed him around the neck and hauled him upwards; later he realised it was Charlie. Joe sighed. “He saved my life May, no doubt about it.” He stopped again and looked up at her. “All this time I’ve thought the worst of humans and now look at me, thanking one of them for keeping me alive. Funny how these things have a way of kicking you up the arse, especially when you think you’ve got it all worked out.”

  May smiled and bent down. “You’ve got that right.” She kissed him then pulled away, anxiety showing in her eyes. “You have no idea how worried I was Joe. Chris left a message that was so bloody vague, I didn’t know what to expect.”

  Joe nodded. “I’m sorry, but once I got out there I couldn’t leave without having a poke around. Then the weather came in and the rest, well let’s just say I was lucky.” He reached out and took her hand. “I promise not to go kayaking alone again. Okay?”

  She squeezed his hand in return. “Well I won’t be going with you if this is how we end up.”

  Joe laughed and returned his gaze to the ceiling of the bathroom. “What do you think that metal thing on The Brisons is then?”

  May shrugged. “I’ve no idea, was it some kind
of drain or something?”

  Joe exhaled loudly. “Out there? Unlikely.”

  “Well what do you think it was then?”

  Joe turned his head back. “Best guess?”

  May nodded. “If that’s as good as it gets.”

  “Best guess would be a door.”

  May couldn’t hide the incredulity from her voice. “A door?”

  “Yes, a door, either for a store of some sort or a tunnel.” Joe’s head, damaged or not, had started working through hypotheses, something he’d done for so many years as a detective.

  May was desperately trying to play catch up. “Wouldn’t it get flooded? Besides, why on earth would someone build a tunnel out there?”

  Joe sat upright in the water exposing a set of previously unseen pebble sized bruises on his shoulder. “It wouldn’t flood, the door is too far above the water and I don’t think the tunnel was dug there. I think it’s a drift.” He remembered the distinct image of Levant wheelhouse standing proud in the distance when he was standing on the islands. “And I think the drift starts in Levant. The question is; how do you open it? There’s no way anyone could open it on their own.” He sank back into the water again.

  May stood up and pulled a clean towel off the back of the door. “Enough brain activity for now, we’re going to the hospital to get you checked out. Come on.” She held the towel out invitingly.

  Joe raised his eyebrows. “I’ll certainly allow you to dry me miss.” He looked down at the water. “I take it my head’s stopped bleeding now?”

  May leant closer and looked. “It looks a lot better now.”

  “Then I’m afraid I won’t allow you to take me to the hospital. Not tonight.”

  May opened her mouth to speak then shook her head. “If you’re stupid enough not to go to hospital, then I’m not going to argue with you. You’re simply too senseless to waste my time on. Just tell me if you feel ill, okay?”

  Joe smiled. “You’re fantastic, you know that don’t you?” He stood up and held his arms out for May to dry him.

  “And you’re not getting any more sympathy from me.” She threw the towel at his face and heard him laugh as she walked out.

  A short time later Joe re-appeared, having dressed himself in some dry clothes May had put out for him. “The last time anyone put clean socks and pants out for me was my mum. Are you ready?”

  May was sitting on the sofa listening to the storm outside with just the light from the wood burner sending a warm glow throughout the room. “Ready for what?”

  “A spot of grave digging of course.” He gingerly rotated his shoulder. “I might not be able to do any of the actual digging of course, but I’m more than happy to supervise.”

  May’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding? In this?” She pointed to the enormous window over her shoulder where the rain lashed relentlessly.

  “The ground will be nice and soft. Perfect digging weather.” He picked up her coat and threw it over her head.

  David Polglaze sat staring morosely at the daily newspaper. His mood hadn’t improved in the slightest since this morning and the only bright spot in the day had been his tussle with that ridiculous writer. May was clearly besotted with him. God alone knew why, because it was clear from their exchange he didn’t have any idea about how to deal with a powerful man like himself. Still it wouldn’t benefit him at all to under estimate George, even if he did hold all the collateral.

  He folded the newspaper neatly and placed it over the wide arm of the chair. He hadn’t read any of it, despite looking at it for the last hour. That damn book was a loose end he could very well do without, particularly now things were starting to move forward again after so long. He stood up and walked across the enormous living room to the tallboy in the corner. In truth, the room and the house were far too large for what he needed, but it was a symbol of status and wealth which had been in the family for generations. Of course, back when it was first purchased from the family of Captain Oates the family was many times more numerous and the size suited their purpose. Now, with only him remaining, David knew it was a throw back, and with May’s seeming resistance to him, the likelihood of the size of his family increasing was negligible.

  The tallboy served as a sepia toned shrine to his ancestors. There were images of family gatherings in the garden, where the stoic faced gentlemen were immaculate in their morning suits. The ladies stood proudly next to them with their hair pulled severely away from their faces. David picked up several of the images, each one like the last - carefully staged and managed by the taker with no scope for impromptu laughter or freedom. He had always thought the characters in the images looked more like sinister mannequins than human beings. He picked up the final photo on the shelf. Two men stared gloomily back at him. One was his great grandfather and the other was a man described by his father as being ‘just another miner who died in the accident.’ David had wanted to ask more questions about the photographs during his childhood, but his father’s tone, when talking about that particular photo, carried with it a warning. It was a warning which David knew very well and nothing more was said. The two men stood on the bank in front of Levant mine with the imposing wheelhouse standing sentry in the background. The image May had attached to the article had been well chosen and in a brief moment of happiness today David thought about framing it and putting it proudly next to the images of his forebears. He dismissed the idea quickly; he hated all the photographs, each and every one of them, almost as much as he hated the deceased Reverend William Treleck’s rotting body.

  He put the frame back on the shelf and sat down. This whole exercise was becoming painful and far more difficult than he could have ever imagined. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the high back of the chair. Why was it every time he closed his eyes he could see that damn swimmer reaching out to him? Reaching out for help. He hadn’t meant for it to happen that way; he hadn’t meant for it to happen at all. He just wanted to talk to the man and to find out what he was doing sniffing about on The Brisons. But when the sharp little blades on the outboard motor got too close and sliced through his skin, things just unravelled, for both of them. David rubbed his eyes, it had been an accident but accidents didn’t make for good press. Not when the weight of the Polglaze family was bearing down on you.

  He opened his eyes again. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand, and not argue with ghosts. The only thing which mattered at that moment was locating and destroying the diary of Reverend G. Hooper. Treleck’s suicide had been very poorly timed and if it weren’t for the missing diary David might have been mildly pleased by the death. As things stood, Treleck had purposely hidden it from him in an attempt to irritate him from beyond the grave.

  David pondered over the suicide further; would it still be possible for Treleck to be buried on church grounds? None of the other vicars were buried in the churchyard, but then again none of them had died whilst in service to the parish. If they allowed Treleck to be interred there, where would they put him, after all he wasn’t exactly…

  David stopped his train of thought right where it was. Treleck was a bloody fool, an irritating pest of a man but he wouldn’t have done anything without having some meaning attached to it. Even suicide carried with it a heavy penalty relating to where his soul would go next. So why wouldn’t he have given the diary the grandest of gestures? His last act of responsibility and claim for atonement. David stood up and walked quickly into the oak panelled hallway where his coat hung alone on an antique hat stand. He had to get to St Just and he needed to do some digging.

  20

  “Tell me again why I’m not driving you straight to Edwin Hain hospital?” May pulled the car to a stop outside the church gates.

  Joe started to open the car door. “Because I’m not ill?”

  The church was located in one corner of the village square, set back but prominent. It was nearly half past nine and although it was quiet, it would only be another hour or so before the three pubs which clung to the s
quare began emptying. There might not be many and they might only contain a few regulars, but that might be enough to bring a call to the police. Joe didn’t particularly want grave robbery to be included on his arrest history. He walked quickly to the boot and pulled it open. Inside was a decent sized spade he’d brought from the cottage; he took it out and started walking into the churchyard.

  May hurried to catch up. “Well you’ve certainly improved since they dragged you up from the cove.”

  “Adrenaline does wonders for the body.”

  “Looks like it.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll probably be in a real mess tomorrow; my entire body will be agony.” Joe said happily.

  “Not really any better, at least not now. Promise to phone me tomorrow when you’re feeling at your absolute worst. That might make me feel happy.”

  Joe stopped, pulled May towards him and kissed her. “You’re wonderful to me.” He squeezed her bum hard then walked on.