Beneath the Water

by Sarah Painter

  Stella turned in Jamie’s arms so that she faced him and put her hands on his cheeks, holding his face so that she could look into his eyes. ‘Maybe not. Jessie definitely wouldn’t have enjoyed a long life, whatever James did.’

  Tension eased out of Jamie’s shoulders.

  There were footsteps and the curator appeared. ‘E344,’ he said. ‘Donated by Dr J. Lockhart. It should be somewhere in this section . . .’ He trailed off. ‘Oh. It’s right there.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Jamie said.

  ‘Take all the time you need,’ the curator said, walking discreetly away.

  ‘I don’t want to finish Living Well Forever,’ Jamie said. He was addressing the shelf, as if embarrassed.

  ‘You don’t have to,’ Stella said. ‘It’s your life and your work. You don’t owe anybody.’

  ‘I think I would like to write about James Lockhart and Jessie. It’s not the story I was hoping to find, but the way I feel right now, it just seems like the right thing to do.’ He looked at her. ‘Nathan is not going to be pleased. It’s not a commercial idea.’

  Stella smiled at him. ‘I would love that,’ she said. ‘If it wasn’t for people like this’ – she indicated the room – ‘I wouldn’t have had a life at all.’

  His arm tightened around her and they stood for a moment longer, paying their respects.

  The line between human remains and scientific samples had never felt so blurred. Stella looked at Jessie’s heart and felt the answering beat of her own.

  Coming back from one night in Edinburgh felt like coming home. Stella went to unlock the front door while Jamie carried their bags, but she couldn’t find her key.

  ‘Here,’ Jamie said, dumping the bags on the steps and taking his own from his pocket.

  Inside, Stella went into her office to check for anything urgent, and Jamie went to find Nathan and tell him to pull the publishing contract and pay back the advance.

  She was ploughing through some admin when she heard the door. Looking up, she found Jamie lounging in the doorway. ‘Tea break?’ He was smiling, looking more relaxed than she had ever seen him.

  ‘Okay,’ Stella stood up. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

  He put a hand on her waist as she went to pass him. He was very close and she turned to face him, putting a hand onto his chest and tipping her head back to look into his eyes.

  ‘Or a different kind of break?’ he said. Enquiring, inviting.

  She kissed him, her breath coming quickly as his hands tightened on her. When they broke apart for a moment, she opened her eyes and saw him staring at her. His pupils dilated, clear need written over his face, and she felt beautiful and desirable and powerful. ‘We should probably have some exercise,’ she said, smiling. ‘It’s very important to take regular screen breaks.’

  ‘I prescribe twenty minutes of vigorous physical activity,’ he said, leading her towards the stairs.

  ‘Twenty minutes?’

  ‘Minimum effective dosage,’ he said.

  ‘Let’s go crazy,’ Stella said. ‘Try for thirty.’

  He smiled down at her, stopping to kiss her again, as if he couldn’t wait until they were in the bedroom. ‘Whatever you say.’

  The next morning, Jamie and Stella were sitting up in Jamie’s bed, chatting about the new book and planning a proper research trip to Edinburgh, when they heard the dogs go wild downstairs.

  Jamie was dressed first and he went ahead, Stella following.

  Tabitha and Angus were barking like they were possessed, and Angus was running up and down the staircase between the front door and the landing, as if trying to physically patrol two places at the same time. Jamie glanced at Stella, frowning. ‘I didn’t hear the bell,’ he said, walking swiftly to the hallway.

  Esmé stood in the doorway, water dripping off her raincoat and onto the tiles. The dogs launched themselves at her, but she made them sit before she patted their heads and stroked their ears. ‘Aren’t you going to offer to get my bags?’

  ‘Of course,’ Jamie moved forwards, kissing Esmé on the cheek as he passed. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  ‘Have you been spoiling them?’ Esmé fixed Stella with a terrifying look. ‘Tabitha’s put on weight.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Stella said. ‘Do you have the all-clear?’

  Esmé snorted. ‘Lot of fuss about nothing.’ She led the way into the kitchen and Stella put the kettle on to boil, while Esmé rinsed out the teapot and opened the fridge and then the cupboards, assessing the damage from her time away. She flipped the lid of the breadbin and tutted. ‘I’ll have to get baking.’

  ‘I can do that,’ Stella said. ‘If you’re not up to it . . .’ She trailed off when she saw Esmé’s expression. And so she added, ‘That would be great. I’ve missed your cakes.’

  Esmé made a noise that sounded like ‘humph’ but she didn’t look entirely displeased. She disappeared into the larder and came out with a cake tin. It was newer than the rest of Esmé’s collection and Stella, who hadn’t ventured into the larder even in the last couple of weeks, considering it Esmé’s domain, didn’t recognise it. It was pale pink with cutesy drawings of cupcakes, and Esmé eased the lid off and peered inside. ‘Don’t know if this has kept all right,’ she said. ‘We could have a slice with our tea and find out.’

  Stella was fetching the plates when Esmé said something that stopped her cold.

  ‘Need to get this tin back, anyway. Caitlin will be needing it.’

  ‘Caitlin?’

  ‘Aye, Caitlin Baird.’ She nodded. ‘Your pal.’

  ‘This cake was given to you by Caitlin?’ Stella felt that she had to be absolutely sure of all the facts.

  ‘Well, her husband brought it round, but I assume Caitlin did the baking. Although,’ Esmé said, ‘you can’t be sure these days. Could have been his own work.’

  ‘Was this the cake you were bringing through when you were taken ill?’

  Esmé nodded. ‘What’s wrong? You’ve gone awfy pale.’

  ‘Did you eat any?’

  ‘A wee slice,’ Esmé said. ‘Bit dry for my taste, but waste not want not.’

  Stella didn’t have time to decide whether to confront Rob or not. He called her mobile as she was on her way up to the cottage to visit Caitlin. ‘Speak of the devil,’ she said, answering. ‘I was just thinking about you.’

  ‘Nice things, I hope,’ Rob said, sounding strained. ‘Can you meet me at the pub at half twelve?’

  ‘Aren’t you at work?’

  ‘Lunch break. I won’t have long.’

  A public place seemed like a good idea. Stella wasn’t exactly frightened of Rob, but there was no sense in taking unnecessary chances. Besides, she didn’t want to upset Caitlin. Not in her condition.

  It was a bright and frosty day and the walk into Arisaig, with the sunlight on the whitewashed houses, was at its very best. After the crowds and petrol fumes of Edinburgh, Stella could feel her body relaxing back into the pace and beauty of the Highlands. As odd as it was, with everything that was going on, her soul seemed to respond to the scenery and she felt strangely calm. As she took the narrow road along the water and saw a pair of black guillemots diving into the sea loch, she knew she never wanted to leave. Which meant that she had to think like a local. Handle Rob carefully and keep things quiet. For Caitlin’s sake as well as Jamie’s.

  The pub was reasonably full with the lunchtime crowd, but Stella didn’t feel hungry. She asked for orange juice, but when Rob came back from the bar he put a glass of wine in front of Stella. She pushed it away.

  ‘Thanks for meeting me.’ Rob’s gaze was moving all around the room, as if he couldn’t bear to look at Stella.

  ‘What is this about? Is it Caitlin?’

  ‘No, she’s fine,’ Rob said, finally glancing at her. ‘She’s doing well.’

  He looked pale and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

  ‘You don’t look well,’ Stella said, the words coming automatically. ‘Are you sick?
’

  ‘Bit of a cold. And I’m not sleeping well.’

  Stella was trying to hold on to the sense of calm she had felt outside, but instead, an instinctive revulsion was forcing her to lean back in her chair. In that moment Rob seemed like a stranger to her and she could not believe that he had been her friend and protector for so many years. ‘It’s horrible to be ill, isn’t it?’ Stella said, watching his face. ‘Like poor Esmé.’

  Rob winced and Stella was glad. She hoped he felt terrible. She was certain that Rob had put vitamins into a cake and delivered it to Munro House. Presumably he had hoped to hurt Jamie, but really he hadn’t cared who had gotten sick. She didn’t believe for a moment that he had intended to seriously hurt anyone, just that he had wanted to add some fuel to the rumours of ‘dangerous experiments’. But it had been reckless and selfish.

  ‘I need you to get out of that house,’ Rob said, spitting a little as he spoke. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Go back to London.’

  ‘No,’ Stella said. ‘I like it here.’ An image of her and Jamie entwined beneath his bedsheets jumped into her mind and she felt herself blush.

  ‘Fuck,’ Rob said, sitting back. ‘What is it with that family?’

  ‘It’s my job,’ Stella said, keeping her voice reasonable. ‘And I love it here, I want to stay.’

  Rob looked at her for a moment, breathing heavily. Then he dug in his pocket and produced a set of keys. Stella recognised them instantly. ‘Where did you find those?’ Jamie would pretty much kill her if she had dropped them somewhere.

  ‘I took them,’ Rob said, his red eyes narrowing. ‘I needed to get inside and I didn’t think you would lend them to me.’

  ‘You broke into Munro House?’ Stella felt the first rush of fear. It was probably a bit late, but she had known Rob for so long, and he had always been such a caring presence. He had made some bad decisions recently, hadn’t been in his right mind, but still. He taught primary school children, after all, wore one of those knitted vest things over his shirts when he went to work.

  ‘I went into the house while you and Jamie were on your romantic mini-break.’ Rob was openly sneering.

  ‘How do you even know—’

  ‘He has keys,’ Rob interrupted. ‘To the cottages that used to belong to the estate. He has keys to my house.’

  ‘That’s what this is about? You think Jamie has been in your house?’

  ‘Not him. His dad. A long time ago. I need you to tell me everything Jamie has ever said about my family.’

  ‘You manipulated me into working for Jamie Munro,’ Stella said, ice in her heart. ‘You lied to me. And now you want me to betray my boss for you, violate a legal agreement and my own ethics.’ Stella had been going to add ‘and you poisoned Esmé’ but something stopped her. The same instinct that was telling her she ought to get far away from this man.

  ‘I think he’s covering something up.’

  Rob reached out and put his hand over Stella’s on the table. It was sweaty and Stella forced herself not to move immediately. She wanted nothing more than to leave, to take deep breaths in the fresh air, but she had to find out what Rob was talking about first. ‘I know you don’t like Jamie, but he hasn’t done anything wrong—’

  ‘Mebbe not him,’ Rob gripped her hand, ‘but he is hiding something.’

  ‘What?’ Stella pulled her hand out from underneath Rob’s and crossed her arms. ‘You are going to have to do better than vague accusations.’

  Rob looked around as if he expected to be overheard, then he spoke quietly. ‘James Munro senior was in the habit of taking what he wanted and who he wanted. By the time I was fourteen, Mum and Dad were arguing all the time. Dad got drunk one time and told me Mum had been busy up at the big house. That was why things were so bad between them. He said it was an affair but she said she couldn’t help it, that Munro forced things.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Stella said. ‘That’s really bad, but—’

  Rob carried on. He wasn’t looking at Stella, just staring at the table as if seeing the past played out on its surface. ‘My dad left us not long after that. I never heard from him again. Neither of us did. It was pretty rough for those years. Mum really struggled to keep us going. I got a Saturday job, but there was never quite enough cash.’

  ‘And you blame Jamie’s dad for your parents breaking up.’

  Rob looked at her then. She expected sadness, but there was just blazing fury. ‘You don’t get it. The night that Dad got really steaming and told me that stuff. That’s the last time I saw him.’

  ‘You haven’t been in touch?’

  Rob shook his head slowly. ‘I was angry with him for leaving. And Mum didn’t want to talk about it so we didn’t. And then I left, went to university. I got out of this place and got myself a career. I put it all behind me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Stella said. ‘You never talked about your parents. I had no idea—’

  ‘See, I always thought he had passed out on the couch that night. I was off out myself the next night. I got blootered with Doug and stayed at his. Didn’t go home till the weekend and by then he had gone. Left us. I always thought it was because he believed Munro, and not Mum, and that telling me about it just brought it up for him. Last straw, like.’

  ‘You think he thought your mum had an affair, that it wasn’t assault.’

  ‘Aye. But now I’m not so sure he just left.’ Rob rolled his shoulders. ‘I mean, I never heard from the man again. For a while I was so angry with him for leaving and with Mum for sleeping with that rich bastard that I didn’t think it through. Then I was really fucking angry with Munro. Maybe Mum had been telling the truth and he forced things, mebbe not. Either way he fucked things up for my parents.’

  Rob was staring at the table as he spoke, his fingers picking and tearing the label on his beer bottle. ‘I thought I’d put it all behind me, moved on, but moving back here just brought it all up. It’s like it’s just been waiting for me. Thing is, I’ve been thinking about those first few days. We were both in shock, me and Mum, and then she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I thought she was embarrassed. I mean, everyone around here seemed to know she’d had a thing with Munro and she felt judged.’

  ‘The downside of a small community,’ Stella said.

  ‘I know that when she came back from work that day she found a note. I never saw it and I don’t know what it said. Mum just told me he had said sorry. His duffel bag was gone with clothes, his toothbrush, his razor and a few clothes. He had taken the library book he was halfway through and his passport. Thing is’ – Rob was staring intently at Stella now, like he was willing her to understand the significance of his words – ‘he didn’t take his star medal.’

  ‘I don’t—’

  ‘He loved that bloody thing. Used to bore me senseless with the story about how his granddad had brought it back from the war. Now that I think about it, I cannae believe that he would leave without taking it.’

  ‘Maybe he didn’t mean to leave for good, maybe he thought he would cool off and come home and that’s why.’ As Stella spoke she felt a prickling sensation. She remembered packing her own overnight bag, no clear intention of how long she would be away and half-mad with grief and betrayal.

  She had still picked up her glass inkwell.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Stella wanted to go for a long walk to clear her head, but she went straight back to the house. She had no idea whether she was going to tell Jamie about Rob’s suspicions, but she was hoping that instinct would kick in and tell her what to do for the best.

  Jamie and Nathan were in the living room, tumblers of whisky in hand. Nathan had clearly not been out of bed long, as his hair was messy and he was wearing a dressing gown made of a navy shiny material which looked suspiciously like silk. He could have happily auditioned for the part of ‘international playboy’ in a low-budget film.

  ‘Join us,’ Nathan said, his eyes shining.
‘We’re toasting the end of Jamie Munro’s career as a New York Times bestselling author.’

  ‘Ach, give it a rest,’ Jamie said. After spending time with Rob and his sniffing, Jamie looked even healthier than usual in comparison. His skin positively glowed and his eyes were bright and clear.

  ‘I mean it.’ Nathan tipped his glass towards Jamie. ‘You must be the first person to ever mail back a quarter-mill advance and for such an insane reason.’

  Stella opened her mouth to say something supportive of Jamie and his business decisions, but the dogs began barking wildly and then the ancient doorbell clanged.

  ‘I’ll go,’ she said, standing up.

  Stella called for the dogs to be quiet. She was expecting the slimy journalist from the Record or an out-of-season tourist hoping for a hotel. Somebody she could get rid of quickly and then, hopefully, get Jamie alone to talk about what Rob had said. There was so much on her mind that it took Stella a moment to place the man standing on the steps.

  Ben was looking around the courtyard and seemed to have to drag his gaze back to her. ‘I can see why you stayed,’ he said.

  Stella was trying to adjust to the sight of him. He looked both the same and utterly unfamiliar. ‘What are you doing here?’

  He smiled easily. ‘You don’t call, you don’t write—’

  ‘We broke up,’ Stella said, as if explaining something to a child. ‘That’s generally what happens.’

  ‘I want to talk to you. I wanted to see you.’

  ‘I think I made my feelings pretty clear.’

  ‘Don’t be dramatic,’ Ben said. He walked up the steps and past Stella, as if he belonged. That old confidence. How had she found it so reassuring? Within seconds, Ben was surrounded by the dogs and they were barking again, loudly.

  ‘Shush,’ Stella said sharply. ‘Come here.’ She didn’t really expect them to obey her commands, she wasn’t Esmé after all, but they stopped barking and stopped circling Ben.

  Tabitha pushed her nose into Stella’s hand and Angus sat right in front of her, as if guarding her from the intruder.

  ‘You can’t be here,’ Stella said. ‘Please leave.’