The Blue Pool

by Siobhan MacDonald

  Ruth was listening now. Carefully. Looking even a small bit smug, thought Kathy.

  “And I know that it was some bloke that that poor girl was shouting at,” added Queally.

  Stephen Shaw and Richard sat to attention in their chairs.

  Ruth’s expression had changed. That was a definite hint of smugness that Kathy spied.

  “How do you know that, Mr Queally?” asked Kathy, boldly.

  “Yes, Mr Queally,” interrupted Stephen Shaw. “How do you know? You didn’t mention this yesterday when you were talking to the Nugents.”

  “You n-never asked.” Queally looked uncomfortable again and patted his head to check his comb-over.

  “I’m asking now,” said Stephen Shaw.

  “The reason I know it was a b-bloke that she was with,” said Nathan Queally, “was because when I heard her, she was shouting. ‘Stop that, Charlie, stop it.’ Yeah, I’m pretty sure they were her words, ‘Stop that, Charlie. Stop it.’”

  Charlotte

  The Blue Pool

  August 1991

  The black flagstones had never been as clean. Charlotte leaned back on her haunches and surveyed the floor. She was pleased with herself. She was leaving Cyril’s cabin in better condition than she had found it. No one would even know the girls had been there. Charlotte had disposed of the evidence.

  She’d taken a back road over to the council recycling centre earlier, getting rid of the bin-bags there. The place had been deserted. Someone had left the gates open but the security hut was unmanned when she quickly shoved the bags down the disposal shute.

  Back at the cabin, as well as scrubbing the floor, she’d set a fresh fire in the grate and she’d scrubbed the kitchen and the bathroom. The marks on the floor had been the hardest. Her hands were sore and red. It had been a busy morning. She felt it was the least she could do to repay Cyril’s hospitality. Putting the cleaning fluids back under the sink, Charlotte made her way upstairs, pillows under her arm. They were stored in the linen cupboard on the landing. It was her last job.

  The hinges on the cupboard door had rusted and it creaked as Charlotte prised it open. Suddenly she froze. What was that noise downstairs? She’d been startled by an even louder creaking coming from below. The sound of the back door – someone was opening it! She’d been an idiot – why had she not locked it? The key was on the inside, but she hadn’t bothered to turn it.

  Heart thumping, she quickly looked around for something to use as a weapon. There was nothing. Nothing but a hardback book on the chest on the landing. She bent to grab it. Quietly, Charlotte tip-toed to the banisters.

  “Charlotte!”

  Two big eyes stared up at her.

  “For fuck sake, Sarah! You scared the crap out of me. What the bloody hell are you doing?”

  “What the hell are you doing, Charlie? You going to decapitate me with that book?” Sarah said grinning.

  “I was bloody well thinking about it. I thought you were a burglar.” Charlotte put the hard-back down and started to walk down the stairs. “Christ, you gave me a fright.”

  “Sorry about that. I thought you’d be long gone by now,” said Sarah.

  “So did I,” said Charlotte, her heart still thumping. “I didn’t mean to be here that long. Cleaning up always takes way longer than you think. But what are you doing back here, Sarah?”

  Sarah looked bedraggled and wet.

  “And what have you done with the others, where’s Ruth and Kathy?” Charlotte asked her. She had a bad feeling.

  “Ruth and Kath are gone,” said Sarah, pulling a face. “They got a lift already. Ages ago, in fact.”

  “They left you on your own?” Charlotte was stunned.

  “Yes. No. Well, yes and no. It wasn’t really like that.” Sarah traipsed into the kitchen. “I said I’d hitch on my own. We tried but we couldn’t all get a lift together. Not the three of us…” Sarah pulled open the fridge door. “I volunteered to strike out alone,” she said, staring into the bleached but empty appliance.

  “And you couldn’t get a lift? Did you even put your thumb out?”

  “Of course I did,” said Sarah who was now going through the empty cupboards. “Jesus, I’m starving,” she muttered.

  “Sorry, Sarah, there’s nothing here.”

  “Oh crap,” said Sarah.

  “No one at all offered you a lift?” Charlotte found that strange. Okay, Sarah looked a little odd right now with that permed hair but surely some guy would have stopped. Most guys found Sarah attractive. Shit. Charlotte just knew this journey home would turn into a disaster. Why did they spend all their bloody money? They were such idiots.

  “It’s the freakin’ village of the damned round here, Charlotte,” moaned Sarah. “There’s no bloody traffic. It’s really spooky out there on your own. I waited for ages and the one time that two cars came along together, I was in some bushes having a wee. I missed two of them!” Sarah was indignant. She also sounded seriously hacked-off.

  “You walked the whole way back here on your own? You passed no one at all?”

  “That’s about the height of it. I’m completely wrecked.”

  Charlotte suddenly realised that there was something else that was odd. Something else was missing here.

  “Where’s your placard and your suitcase?”

  Sarah shook her head. “That stupid placard was useless. I ditched that straightaway. And in case you hadn’t noticed it’s raining and horrible out there. I thought I’d hang out back here in the cabin until the weather improved, I knew where you kept the key. And as for my suitcase – that’s off the road down there. Not far from the pub. I hid it under leaves and stones. I couldn’t lug that thing the whole way back here. It’s far too heavy.”

  “Well… I was just about finishing up here,” said Charlotte slowly. “About to head away myself. But for the life of me, I really can’t think how we’re going to get you back to Dublin. Unless I wait in the car with you until you get a lift. At least you won’t be out in the rain.”

  Sarah already looked fairly wet as she collapsed on the sofa. She suddenly threw back her head and gave an almighty sneeze. “Oh, great. All I bloody need,” she snuffled and fumbled about the pocket of her biker jacket. Pulling out a clump of tissues, her blue inhaler went skating across the black flagstones, landing at Charlotte’s feet. Charlotte picked it up.

  “Do you have any money at all to spare, Charlie?” Sarah wheedled. “Just some coins for a phone call. I do have one idea left.”

  “If it’s a short call, yeah – I guess so,” said Charlotte. “I can spare that. Who are you going to call?”

  A furtive smile spread slowly across Sarah’s face. “Guess,” she said mischievously.

  “I assure you I have absolutely no idea,” Charlotte said bemused.

  “Really? No idea at all?” Sarah looked like she was having some kind of joke at Charlotte’s expense.

  “None at all. Go on. Tell me then,” said Charlotte.

  “Richard,” Sarah said.

  Charlotte felt like she’d been suddenly slapped. Was this a joke? “Richard,” Charlotte repeated. “What do you mean Richard?”

  “Well, if I can get to the phone in the pub, or to the phone-box down the road, and I call Richard, he’ll come and get me,” said Sarah.

  What Sarah was saying made no sense.

  “This is my brother Richard we’re talking about here?” Charlotte asked.

  “One and the same,” said Sarah slowly, smiling slyly now.

  This just didn’t compute. Charlotte was sure she was missing something here.

  “I don’t get it, Sarah. You’re suggesting ringing my brother Richard, getting him to come down here for you in Clare, and drive you all the way to Dublin?”

  “Yeah, I know. Mad isn’t it? I wouldn’t ordinarily suggest it…” Sarah had cocked her head to one side and was making her puppy eyes that Charlotte had always found so irritating. “But I’m stuck, Charlie. Genuinely stuck. And I know that Richard wo
uld love to do this for me.” Another sneeze wiped the puppy dog look from her face.

  “And how do you know that, Sarah?” Charlotte asked her carefully, deliberately. “Tell me exactly why Richard would do that for you.”

  “Jeez, don’t get all weird on me, Charlotte,” Sarah laughed at her. “Richard likes me. That’s all. That’s how I know.”

  “Richard likes everyone,” said Charlotte. That was Richard’s failing.

  “Yes, I know that, Charlotte. But Richard like likes me. If you know what I mean.”

  Charlotte stiffened. She felt a sudden chill in the cabin as if a stray breeze had found its way through the front door. Sarah looked as if she was actually enjoying her little game, this taunting.

  Sarah pulled her shoulders back. “And actually if you must know, Charlie. I wasn’t going to say a thing, because he is your brother and stuff, but I quite like Richard too.”

  Again, it occurred to Charlotte that Sarah was spoofing. This was her off-beam sense of humor. But no. Sarah was looking far too smug for that. This absurd declaration of quite liking Richard was not good news. Not good news at all. Richard just didn’t understand quite liking or lukewarm liking or any kind of liking. Look at what had happened with that bitch Lavinia Horgan. Look what happened when she had dumped him.

  “Give me a break, Sarah, you’re having a laugh. When do you ever get to see Richard except when he calls in on all of us in Galway?”

  “Not exactly true,” said Sarah.

  Was that a hint of sneakiness in her voice? Sarah looked as if she was nursing some big fat guilty secret. Charlotte felt the chill wrap itself around her. She needed to tread very carefully now.

  “Look, I know I should have told you…” Sarah sneezed again, “Richard called me a few times this summer, when he was up in Dublin on security detail. He phoned me at the chemist and we went out for lunch. God, was I only aching to get out of that bloody shop…” Sarah groaned and threw her eyes to heaven.

  Charlotte had to try and think straight. This wasn’t happening. Not again. She wouldn’t let it. She could picture exactly what had happened. Sarah only too delighted to bunk off work as usual, delighted with any distraction at all. Even if it was only Richard. And Richard – deeply flattered that Sarah had agreed to meet him. Gullible, innocent Richard. But Charlotte was perplexed. Why had Richard not mentioned any of these goings-on to Charlotte? And how had she not noticed that any of this was happening?

  “But you’re going out with Luke,” protested Charlotte. She needed to approach this with logic. To be absolutely sure.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Sarah sniffled again.

  “What do you mean, ‘maybe’?” Charlotte asked softly. She felt like screaming but she had to figure out how far this thing with Richard had gone.

  “Luke’s been away fishing most of the summer and anyway –”

  Another bout of sneezing gripped Sarah.

  “I’m over the Luke thing anyway. It’s time to move on, you know.”

  Charlotte didn’t know. She didn’t know at all. You made a decision and you stuck with it. Charlotte was going out with Tomas Walsh. She didn’t want anyone else.

  “But you’re not going out with Richard, Sarah. You’re not dating him. You’ve only just met him for lunch.”

  “Oh, I know that,” Sarah twiddled her hair, annoyingly. “But we get on well together, Richard and I. I’ve been thinking about it. A lot actually. I considered telling the others. Yeah… you know what, Charlie? I think I will go out with him. Richard’s a little bit on the serious side but I think it could be fun. Come on, Charlie. What do you think? Don’t you think it would be a laugh? One of your best friends and your brother?”

  Charlotte stared at Sarah, stony-faced. She felt livid. Fun? Charlotte didn’t think it would be fun at all. In fact, she couldn’t think of anything more disastrous. It’d be a bit of a lark for Sarah, for sure. He’d be just another notch on the bed-post for Sarah Nugent. Another entry on her list of quirky boyfriends. Richard might even make it to her stupid six-week deadline. By which time poor stupid Richard would be hooked. And then when someone more glamorous or eccentric or interesting came along, Sarah would ditch him too without a thought. Just like she’d done with those poor spurned idiots who’d turned up groveling on the doorstep of their flats in university over the years. It was downright cruel. And Charlotte wasn’t having it.

  Sarah sounded like she’d been toying with Richard already. How had Charlotte missed it? She’d resolved all those years ago never to let this happen again. Charlotte steeled herself. Richard would not be Sarah’s plaything.

  “You look like thunder, Charlie,” Sarah laughed. “Come on. You can’t be that surprised.”

  That’s right, Sarah. Everything’s just a big laugh to you.

  “I think you should leave Richard alone,” said Charlotte firmly, trying to keep a grip on her emotions.

  “Chill out, Charlie,” Sarah scoffed. “I’ll go out with Richard if I want to…” she started to wheeze.

  “No Sarah, you won’t.” Charlotte shook her head.

  She wasn’t having this happen to Richard again. Not after Lavinia Horgan. It had taken a while, a lot of waiting, but that bitch had got her just desserts.

  “You’re being ridiculous, Charlie.” Sarah pushed herself up off the sofa, wheezing now. “Can I have my inhaler, please?” She reached her hand out to Charlotte. “That soaking… didn’t… do… me… any… good,” she wheezed. Charlotte could hear a whistling sound coming from Sarah’s chest.

  “I don’t think I’m being ridiculous at all.” Charlotte didn’t move, her fist tightening around the inhaler.

  “Give it,” Sarah waggled her outstretched palm.

  Charlotte shook her head slowly from side to side.

  “Stop that, Charlie! Bloody stop it now!” Sarah managed to shout. The effort made her wheeze even more.

  Charlotte took a step back and again silently she shook her head.

  “Stop it, Charlie!” Sarah let rip an even louder shout this time.

  A look of alarm had now crept into her eyes. She gulped for breath. She was struggling. She started to yank at the scarf around her neck to loosen it.

  “You leave Richard alone,” Charlotte said through gritted teeth. She was squeezing the inhaler so tightly, she thought it might crush in her fist.

  “My inhaler,” Sarah wheezed. Her hand was still outstretched. “Give it to me…”

  A flicker of something else had crept into Sarah’s eyes now. Fear had registered. She could see that Charlotte was serious. Charlotte took a few more steps away. Did that selfish loose cannon think she could play with other people’s lives like that? That there wouldn’t be any consequences to her actions? Who did Sarah think would pick up the pieces when Richard would inevitably fell apart again? Just how reckless could she be?

  Charlotte stood there motionless, ignoring her. Trying not to look at her gasping for breath. She closed her eyes, shutting her out. Charlotte cast her mind back to when she’d been a teenager. Lavinia Horgan had been in a coma for weeks. Charlotte had felt exhilarated. She knew what she had done was wrong. Charlotte didn’t approve of violence. But Lavinia had left her with little option and oh my, she’d spun so beautifully across that road.

  Charlotte opened her eyes. Sarah was still shouting at her. But each shout becoming weaker, the effort taking her dwindling breath away.

  “Give it, Charlie!”

  Sarah was clutching at her neck. She didn’t have the energy to move. Unsteady on her feet. Her face had gone a funny color.

  “For God’s sake, give… it… to… me,” she said it desperately this time, energy fading. She looked pathetic.

  Charlotte hesitated. She squeezed her fist. Then she opened it and looked at the blue inhaler. She looked at Sarah again. A glimmer of hope flashed across Sarah’s face as Charlotte faltered. But Charlotte curled her fingers around the inhaler again. She stared right through Sarah, unseeing. Charlotte didn’t move. She
stood there rigid.

  It was Charlotte and Richard against the world. They were a team. It was Charlotte’s duty to look out for her brother once again. He was her responsibility. Kind, loveable, trusting, Richard, who people took advantage of.

  This, foolish, fickle, so-called friend expected Richard to come out here and drive her the whole way to Dublin as if he were some fawning lap-dog. Making a fool of him. Using him. And when things all came to an end, which they surely would, Richard would be the one to be distraught, depressed, dejected. He’d be the one to take sick-leave from his job, he’d be the one on medication again. No. It wasn’t happening again on Charlotte’s watch. Not now. Not ever.

  Sarah had slumped back onto the sofa now. Her eyes were bigger. Even more wild. She was pulling frantically at the scarf around her neck, pulling, pulling, as if the air might somehow find a way in. It wasn’t easy to watch. Charlotte wasn’t a monster. She found this hard as well. She closed her eyes and squeezed them tight, willing it all to be over quickly.

  “Charlie… please… please…”

  Charlotte covered her ears and started to hum “We’re on the road to nowhere.” With the humming in her ears and eyes squeezed shut, Charlotte felt herself begin to sway. She stayed like that for a while, eyes shut, swaying to and fro. She didn’t know how long she’d waited but after a time she allowed herself to open one eye, just a chink. And then she slowly un-squeezed the other. She hardly dared breathe. But all was silent now.

  Sarah was quiet. At rest.

  It was over.

  Everything went still and a deathly silence enveloped the room.

  Charlotte didn’t know how long she’d stood there without moving. For quite a while, she thought. She looked out of the window now to the water beyond. At the birds that swooped and dived over the pool. She marveled at the strangeness of the day. At what had just unfolded in the cabin.

  She felt herself begin to shake. It had to be done. It was as simple as that. She had never had a choice. Charlotte had always been able to think clearly and she had done the right thing. Despite her conviction in herself, she was shaking uncontrollably now.