Beneath the Water

by Sarah Painter

  ‘I’m sorry about last week,’ he said abruptly.

  ‘What?’ Stella was still considering the number on the piece of paper. What did he expect her to purchase with that? A 3D printer? A flight simulator?

  ‘I was coming to the end of a water fast. Bit grumpy. And my cognitive function wasn’t at its peak.’

  Stella wanted to ask why he’d been fasting but stopped herself. Could be for a medical procedure, something private he didn’t want to discuss. She had enough experience of invasive questions about her own health to know how wearing they could be.

  ‘There’s something I wanted to ask you. It might sound a bit weird, but if it bothers you then it’s a good sign that this isn’t going to work out and I’d rather not waste time.’

  Stella forced herself to look at her new boss directly. She wanted to show that she wasn’t easily shocked, while hoping that he wasn’t going to say something too wild. She had only been in the house for a short time and she already knew she wanted to stay. For a while, at least.

  ‘I want to extend my ice baths, try for longer times. That comes with an increased risk so I need a buddy.’

  ‘Like with diving?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, looking delighted with the analogy. His face transformed when he was pleased, like a glimpse of gold buried in dark earth. ‘You don’t have to watch or be in the room or anything, but I’m videoing the sessions and I need you to watch them after for any problematic episodes. Loss of consciousness, specifically. This could happen for a couple of seconds and I wouldn’t necessarily know about it. I want you review the footage.’

  ‘You might pass out? In the bath?’ Stella pushed down her sudden anxiety. She wanted to add that she had done a first-aid course, but didn’t think her certificate was up-to-date anymore.

  ‘It’s very unlikely, but it is possible. Especially as I intend to take longer sessions. I’ll let you know when I’m going in and you set your watch or something. I’ll call to you through the door when I’m getting out after the agreed time, and if I don’t, you check on me.’

  ‘In the bathroom?’

  ‘Door will be unlocked. I won’t be naked.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Fuck. It does sound weird. I swear this is not harassment.’

  ‘The thought hadn’t crossed my mind,’ Stella said. He wouldn’t be in much of a state to harass her after ten minutes in a bath full of ice. Even if she were the kind of woman men felt inclined to leer at. Which she wasn’t.

  ‘Great. Is that okay with you? It would be a big help. I could ask Esmé but she has enough to do.’

  ‘May I ask a question?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Why do you want to stay in the bath for longer? I thought you believed in the minimum effective dose in all things?’

  ‘You’ve been doing your homework.’ He turned to the iPad and brought up a graph. ‘Three minutes is MED for fat reduction, but I read a study by Gabriel Hernandez which suggested that cell regeneration could be triggered at the five-minute mark. I thought it was worth testing.’

  ‘Fair enough. It will have to be one hell of a benefit to get me into one, though.’

  He straightened up and looked her directly in the eye. ‘People always say things like that. They call me crazy, but I think they’re the mad ones. No offence.’

  ‘None taken.’ Stella fought the urge to step back, to look away. He really was unnervingly intense.

  ‘I mean, we get one shot here, right? Why not optimise your life? Why not be as fit and as healthy and as sharp for as long as possible?’

  Stella opened her mouth to reply but Jamie was already moving on to the next thing.

  ‘And then there are people like James Young Simpson. He was this Edinburgh doctor in the nineteenth century and he was thirty-six when he discovered the anaesthetic properties of chloroform, and revolutionised surgery and childbirth. If I’m going to do something important, I have to push my limits.’ Jamie suddenly seemed to notice that he was pacing the floor. He stopped and pulled a goofy smile, which was unlike any expression Stella had seen from him so far. ‘Sorry. I go on. Just really enthusiastic about this stuff.’

  It was kind of nice to meet someone so passionate, Stella thought when he had left her with his tablet to order her equipment. Not restful, but definitely interesting.

  Stella was replying to emails using Jamie Munro’s detailed response guide when the telephone rang. She answered it with a chirpy ‘Jamie Munro’s office’, enjoying the familiar routine of work, the feeling of being useful.

  ‘And who might you be?’ The voice was deep and American. She thought East Coast, but wouldn’t have put money on it.

  ‘I’m Stella, Mr Munro’s temporary assistant.’ Stella didn’t know why she’d said ‘temporary’ – she wouldn’t usually. There was something about the caller’s manner which made her want to apologise.

  ‘A new one. Okay. You need to get him for me. It’s urgent.’

  ‘Mr Munro isn’t available at the moment, I’m afraid,’ Stella said. Jamie had instructed her that he was going to meditate and shouldn’t be disturbed. ‘May I take a message?’

  ‘Stella, sweetheart. I’m his agent. Nathan Schwartz. I’m on the list.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You know, like at a club? Or the entrance to the VIP lounge. Or waiting on the phone to speak to my client. My name’s on the list and you wave me through.’

  ‘He’s really not available right now,’ Stella said, trying to project light amusement rather than irritation. ‘I can take a message for you, though.’

  ‘Oh, you’re good,’ the agent said, sounding delighted. ‘Well done. You’re like a big black bouncer. Or a white guy with no neck and a tattoo. I can see why he hired you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Stella said. ‘But I’m still not disturbing him.’

  ‘He’s there, then? Is he working? Please tell me he’s writing.’

  ‘Was there a message, Mr Schwartz?’

  There was a barking sound which Stella decided must be laughter. ‘I like you. Get him to call me later with an update. I want to know where he is with the book. If he doesn’t call me, you call me. I need that update.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Between us girls, he’s blown through his last three deadlines and the publisher is getting kinda antsy. They’ll put up with a lotta shit, but he’s not untouchable. Gotta remember that.’

  Stella looked at the phone for a moment after she pressed the button to end the call. She hadn’t really believed there were people like that in the world. She pictured Nathan Schwartz leaning back in his chair, chomping on a cigar and terrorising his staff.

  At the end of the day, as Stella was putting on the technical raincoat and mentally preparing herself for the wet walk back up the hill, Jamie emerged from his office. His hair and T-shirt were both wet with sweat and he had a length of cord in one hand. ‘Is it five already?’

  ‘Half past,’ Stella said. ‘Did you want me to stay later?’

  He shook his head and sat on the arm of one of the chairs. ‘Did you walk?’

  ‘Yes.’ Stella zipped up her coat. She had just realised that she hadn’t thought about Ben all day.

  ‘And you’re staying with the Bairds? For how long?’

  Jamie was staring straight at her with unnerving intensity, not breaking eye contact. His right knee was bouncing up and down in something she would have called a nervous tic in a person less obviously confident. ‘Sorry,’ he was saying. ‘None of my business, I know. It’s just there are houses on the estate. Empty ones. If you want, you can stay in one. Pick one, I don’t care.’

  He was so full of energy, it was hard to remember that he was unwell. ‘You have empty houses, just lying around.’ Stella gave him a long look.

  ‘My parents did them up as holiday rentals. I ran them like that, through an agency, while I’ve been away, but I didn’t want strangers around now that I’m here full-time. I want peace and quiet.’

  Stella wanted to laugh. How much space did
one man need? How much peace? ‘Rent?’

  He waved a hand. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘That’s insane,’ Stella said. ‘Not that I’m not grateful, but you could make a fortune with this place. In the summer, at any rate.’

  ‘Maybe next year,’ he said. ‘I just have to finish this book. I can’t split my focus right now.’

  ‘But—’ Stella began. This was too much and far too good to be true.

  ‘You know I hired you to make my life easier, right?’ His smile had vanished and his relaxed tone was replaced with something flatter, formal. ‘That doesn’t include giving me a hard time over my estate. It’s my property and I can do what I like.’

  ‘I’m just trying to help,’ Stella said. ‘And I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your good nature.’

  ‘According to most people, I don’t have one.’

  ‘Well they clearly don’t know about your attitude to staff benefits,’ Stella said.

  He smiled then, looking relaxed for a few microseconds before jumping up in a sudden movement that made Stella take a reflexive step back.

  ‘Do you want to choose one, then?’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ Stella said. ‘Thank you.’

  That evening at Caitlin and Rob’s, Stella got the third degree.

  ‘So, what’s he like, then? The great Jamie Munro.’ Rob was smiling as he unscrewed the top from a bottle of red wine, but there was no good humour in his voice.

  Stella thought about the non-disclosure agreement; it left her with precious few details she could divulge.

  ‘You know him, don’t you?’ she said instead. ‘From way back.’

  ‘Do you, Rob?’ Caitlin removed her head from the cupboard where she had been locating a gigantic saucepan with two handles. ‘You never said.’

  ‘Not know him. Not really.’ Rob shrugged. ‘Everyone around here knows of him, though. Him and his posh family.’ He filled Stella’s glass and then his own. ‘So, is he as nuts as everybody says? What mad things does he have you doing?’

  Stella lifted her wine glass before lying through her teeth. ‘Just the usual. Same as every other admin job I’ve ever had.’

  Rob shook his head. ‘Now that I don’t believe. He is looking for the Holy Grail, is he not? How to live forever—’

  ‘He said you could vouch for me,’ Stella said, trying to shift the conversation. ‘He remembers your family.’

  Rob’s shoulders went up a notch and he took a big swig from his glass. ‘God, I need this. You won’t believe what that little shite Shane Watson did today.’

  ‘Didn’t you go to parties at the Munro house?’ Stella didn’t know why she couldn’t leave it alone. Rob clearly didn’t remember. Or he didn’t want to discuss it.

  ‘Mebbe,’ Rob said, looking away. ‘When I was really wee.’

  ‘Ceilidhs?’ Caitlin said, straightening up. ‘I bet you were adorable in a kilt.’

  ‘Naturally,’ Rob said, smiling properly now as he looked at his wife.

  ‘Do you think you’ll stay?’ Caitlin said, turning to Stella. ‘Was it all right?’

  ‘It was mostly good.’ Stella took the pan from Caitlin and set it on the hob. She didn’t know how to encompass the excitement and uncertainty of the place. ‘He offered me somewhere to stay, too. Rent-free.’

  ‘Oh, aye?’ Rob raised an eyebrow, his expression black. ‘What does he want in return for that, then?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Stella said, unsettled by Rob’s sneering tone. He had always been protective, but this tension seemed out of proportion. ‘He did say there might be some unusual hours, but that I could take the time off. Flexi. And I get overtime payments.’

  ‘Well that sounds brilliant,’ Caitlin said, seemingly oblivious. ‘If I didn’t love my job I’d be jealous.’

  Caitlin had always been a hardy, outdoors type, and she had landed a job as an estate worker with Scottish Natural Heritage. She was hoping it would lead to a nature-reserve warden position in the fullness of time.

  Stella opened her mouth to ask about Caitlin’s day, hoping to switch the focus from Jamie Munro, but Rob had other ideas.

  ‘Don’t let him take advantage,’ Rob said. He was gripping the stem of his wine glass in his fist, as if an invisible force was trying to take it away from him. ‘Lord of the bloody manor.’

  ‘He’s too distracted to take advantage,’ Stella said. ‘Workaholic type.’

  ‘You don’t have to move.’ Caitlin looked worried. ‘Don’t feel obliged to take the accommodation, you can stay with us as long as you like.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Stella said. ‘I’m not sure whether to take it or not. I mean, I wanted a change, and it’s only temporary so I’m not locked in—’

  ‘The contract’s temp?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Stella said. ‘But I mean this is just temporary.’ She waved her hand, indicating everything around them. ‘I’m just having a break from reality. Then I’ll go home and work out what to do with my life.’

  ‘Perfect,’ Caitlin said, visibly relaxing.

  Later, when Caitlin had gone up to bed and Stella was washing the wine glasses, Rob stretched out his long legs and said, ‘So, what did you really think of Munro?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  He tilted his head. ‘I know you, Stells. I know that look you get when you’re weighing everything up. You’re not sure, are you?’

  ‘It’s too soon to be sure,’ Stella said. She put a glass on the draining rack. ‘And you know me, I’m cautious.’

  Rob made a noise halfway between amusement and agreement.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with that,’ Stella said, glancing over her shoulder for a moment. His eyes were warm and she was suddenly aware of the smallness of the room.

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I just think you should stretch your wings while you’re here. Live a little.’

  ‘I’ll take the cottage,’ Stella said. ‘If that’s what you mean.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Rob’s voice was low and quiet and it seemed to make their conversation more intimate.

  Stella shrugged, raising her voice as she ran the water to rinse the sink. ‘It’s rent-free and it will give me an awesome commute.’

  ‘We need you to leave,’ Rob said, and Stella was glad she was facing away from him. ‘I mean, it’s great to have you. To see you. But with everything that’s going on. You know, the baby. And this place is tiny.’

  ‘No problem,’ Stella said. Rob had always been very straightforward. When she had first met him at university she had thought him blunt to the point of rudeness, but he was a good match for Caitlin, who wasn’t exactly the queen of tact herself.

  ‘And you’re better off out of here. Caitlin gets up about a hundred times every night already. God knows what she’ll be like later on.’

  Stella forced a smile.

  ‘It will be much quieter if you stay in your own place, and I know how important it is that you get your rest.’

  Stella tried not to resent Rob for speaking as if she were still an invalid. Caitlin had been Stella’s best and only friend when she began university, and her social circle had steadily refused to widen. She’d lived at home with her parents and had to miss half her lectures due to exhaustion, so it had been difficult to make much progress in that direction. When Rob and Caitlin had become an item, Rob had adopted Stella entirely: carrying her books, emailing notes from missed classes, and looking out for her every bit as much as Caitlin. The kindness that had been so welcome before was like acid to her now, but that wasn’t Rob’s fault.

  Stella conjured a smile for Rob and then escaped upstairs to the privacy of her room. It couldn’t be any clearer: Rob and Caitlin were a unit. The kind of unit that Stella had wanted to be a part of with Ben. She crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head, intensely grateful that tomorrow she would be spending the day with a misfit stranger. Grateful that she would be out of the cottage and distracted from the thing she wanted most in the worl
d and could no longer have.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Stella chose the smallest of the houses on the estate. It was next to the tennis court, right at the bottom of the formal gardens, and had two bedrooms, one master with a double bed and a smaller twin room. From the window in her bedroom she could see the terraces leading up to the main house, its frontage facing the water, as if the house itself were enjoying the view.

  The kitchen window of the cottage looked out on the rough road which curved around the side of the estate from the main house, while both the master bedroom and small living room looked out to the sea.

  It was such a relief to be in her own space again. Alone. Looking from the windows at the deserted view, she felt gratitude to Rob for giving her the push. This was a real adventure now.

  Better yet, the cottage was entirely devoid of memories and utterly impersonal. She loved the plain dishes in the cupboard, the hotel-style white bed linen, and the plain brown leather sofa and small television. It was all so clearly temporary. It was a transitional space, her own little cocoon from which she would emerge, renewed.

  In Stella’s experience, there were two ways people went when they had a better-than-average chance of dying young: either hedonistic denial or intense practicality. She thought both reactions were perfectly reasonable, but was incapable of altering the camp into which she fell. Stella was painfully aware that a little cottage and office job would not be most people’s idea of high adventure, but most people hadn’t spent their teenage years doing schoolwork in bed, so she didn’t think they had any right to judge.

  Stella looked out of the window and wondered about putting on her layers of clothes and going down to the shore. She had never walked on a beach at night and the idea was alluring. But it was dark and she might trip. It would be more sensible to walk it during the daytime first, to get familiar with the route. And she would need a head torch. Instead, she unpacked her few possessions and ate a sandwich before retiring early to get a good night’s sleep.

  Her practical streak kept her safe, but it couldn’t stop her from dreaming about Ben. Or prevent the waves of fresh pain buffeting her as if he had left her only yesterday, not four months ago.