by Lucy Gillen
The dense and rather gloomy-looking woodland along the south boundary had never appealed to her, and she had until now carefully avoided going there because of its somewhat creepy prospect. Its trees looked taller and darker than the woods beside tile river bank and along the northern boundary, but on a day as hot as now it also looked cool and shady.
She looked across as she walked down the hill from the house, at the darkness of the close-standing trees, tall straight pines, sombrely chill against the bright blue summer sky, and almost without realising it she changed direction and veered south down the long slope and away from the river.
The contrast with her more usual haunts was even more startling than she anticipated when she entered
the wood, and briefly a little shudder ran through her body, though heaven knew what caused such a reaction, except the effect of the sun being suddenly hidden and the impact of the intense shade on her fertile imagination.
The tall, slim conifers grew so close together that they completely shut out the sun and denied even a glimpse of the blue sky above their pointed tips. There was a curious stillness too that was quite unlike the leafy tranquillity she was used to, and the birds seemed to whistle less carelessly. Instead they fluttered from among the clustering branches with sudden chatters of sound that suggested panic, and startled Isa into gasping aloud.
It was quite ridiculous to allow herself to indulge in such fantasies, she realised, but just the same, as she walked through the quiet shadows, the air struck her as more chill than cool, and she missed the soft mumble of the river that was never very far away in her usual haunts.
The ground beneath her feet was thick and soft with .fallen pine needles and deadened her tread, but their ,scent was pleasant and tingled in her nostrils agreeably. Making her way through the thick tangle of some lower-growing bushes, she drew back hastily suddenly when she realised that a big lake lay only just in front of her, a matter of a few feet away. It was completely surrounded by elder and some clinging vine-like growth she did not recognise, and she might so easily have walked right into it that she stopped in alarm suddenly.
It took her only a moment or two to decide that
the concealed lake, like the rest of the woods, was no more inviting than its surroundings. Its waters looked depthless and, densely shadowed by the tall close growing trees, it was dark and gloomy. Isa was all the more startled, therefore, when she thought she detected a sign of movement' among the weed growing at the edge.
At first she caught her breath nervously when, from the corner of her eye, she saw ripples disturb the murky surface of the lake and a vague quivering hint of movement just below the weed suggested some form of life. Across on the far side she thought she could see the outline of a narrow stream, probably fed in from the wider waters of the river somewhere along its length. Betrayed by the spiky leaves of iris, it followed a short, winding course, and judging by the density of the weed growing along it, its flow of water must be almost completely blocked.
The presence of moving water from a stream, however sluggish, would have satisfied her as a cause of the disturbance, but as she stood there on the edge of the lake another movement caught her eye, no more than a foot or two from where she stood, and a second later rippling circles spread out across the surface of the lake, as if something had risen and as swiftly submerged again.
An ever-increasing sense of uneasiness was briefly overcome by curiosity and Isa blinked for a moment as she pondered on the cause. She was accustomed to Aunt Carrie's small goldfish pool, and to the bigger, less glamorous inhabitants of the pool in a park near her home in London, but she
could see no glint of silver below the surface of the water here.
It was in an anxious attempt to prove to herself that it had indeed been a fish of some sort that she pushed through the crowding bushes a little further and leaned out to peer into the water, her eyes narrowed as she peered down into the murky depths.
It was no swift silver fish that darted into view among the weed, however, but a long, leaden grey shape that moved with almost contemptuous slowness, its pointed head and bulging eyes just below the surface of the water. It must have been easily four feet long, she estimated, and Isa stared at it in horror for several seconds, scarcely able to believe it was real, for it had a set of hideous pointed teeth in its jaws that looked needle-sharp, and it seemed to be regarding her steadily and malevolently from the shelter of the weed,
With the bushes growing so close to the water's edge and the weed so thickly gathered, it was difficult to realise where solid ground ended and weed began. The short step forward that she took was almost involuntary as she peered into the water, but it was sufficient to send her toppling over and into the dark, stagnant depths of the lake, and she let out a full-throated scream of fear and surprise as she fell.
Not that there was anyone about to hear her but birds and whatever other wild life the wood sustained, and the birds close by took off in panic as shrill and urgent as her own, while she swiftly surfaced and gasped for breath. The water was icy
cold, even on a warm sunny day, and the weed clung to her like clammy fingers as she struggled to stay on the surface, a terrifying vision of that long grey shape lending panic to her efforts.
At any moment she expected to feel needle-sharp teeth sinking into her flesh and she threshed about in the tangle of weed, trying both to pull herself out of the water and to break the clinging hold of the weed. She was breathing erratically as she reached for an overhanging bush to pull herself out, giving silent thanks for the ability to swim.
The elder bush she grabbed was more slender than she had expected and it took several tries before she found support strong enough to bear her weight, then she hauled herself up on to the marshy bank. There was no sign of the long grey shape among the weed when she looked back, but she felt a shivering certainty that it had been only briefly driven from its post by her struggles and she hastily drew her legs up under her.
She was covered in the clinging weed and soaking wet too, but at, least she was free of the danger of "being attacked by that huge creature with the spiny teeth. Being a town girl, Isa had no great knowledge of what creatures lived in pools and lakes like this one. Some streams had trout which were good to eat, she knew, but the monster she had seen had been no trout, she was certain of that, and she could not imagine how it came to be there.
One thing she was quite certain of was that someone, and she had Toby Carmichael specifically in mind, should have warned her of the dangers that
lurked in these woods. The pool or lake, whatever he chose to call it, was a danger to life and limb and should be better looked after, not allowed to become overgrown and consequently hidden from view. As for keeping creatures like that for anyone to come upon unawares, it was not only dangerous but positively criminal.
A notice should be displayed, warning people of both the presence of the lake and its inhabitant. All manner of wild and indignant complaints whirled through her mind as she sat there, shiveringly cold and wet, trying to recover her breath sufficiently to walk back to the house. She would tell Toby exactly what she thought of his negligence when she saw him next. That he was responsible it never even entered her head to doubt, and he should have the dangers pointed out to him.
Walking back through the woods the distance seemed twice as far as on the outward journey, and Isa was shivering and miserably uncomfortable by the time she emerged from the wood again and stepped into the sunshine. She had done her best to remove the weed that clung to her hair, but her legs, arms and clothes were stained with its horrible slimy stench, and she squelched up the hill in wet sandals, more and more angry in her discomfort. The little blue and white cotton dress that had looked so cool and fresh would never be the same again, and she toyed with the idea of claiming a new one at the expense of her employer.
She thanked heaven for the absence of both Mrs. Grayle and Toby when she reached the house, for
she was certain that sh
e must look as bad as she felt. Squelching her way into the hall, she tried to close the outer door quietly so that Lady. Carmichael should not hear her and perhaps call out to her, for she could not possibly appear in the sitting-room in such a state. Also she was reluctant to face Lady Carmichael with the reason for her present state and her probable derision.
She was no more than half way across the hall, however, when the old lady called to her from the sitting-room and Isa looked down at her bedraggled person resignedly. "You came back very early, Isabella," she told her. "Is it too hot for you in the sun?"
Isa did not go into the sitting-room, as she was probably expected to do, but stayed where she was at the foot of the stairs, hoping to be able to retreat without being called in. "Oh no, my lady," she assured her, "it's—it's just right !"
Although all her accusations had been so far unspoken, Isa's voice shook as much as if she had already indulged in a fierce argument with Toby, and she knew without doubt that the old lady would notice it. Sure enough there were sounds from the sitting-room that meant the old lady was moving about, and a few seconds later she appeared in the hall, her tall figure supported by a stick and her shrewd old eyes narrowed suspiciously when she saw the state Isa was in.
"In heaven's name, child," she said in a sharp voice, "what have you been doing?"
The accusations she would have willingly hurled
at Toby were bitten back hastily and Isa sought for more reasonable explanations to satisfy the glint in those shrewd dark eyes. "I—I had a slight accident," she said, and the old lady gave a fierce snort of disbelief as she came across the hall towards her.
The dark eyes travelled over her and the aristocratic nose wrinkled in distaste at the definite odour of damp and stagnant weed she emitted. "You look as if someone has tried to drown you," Lady Carmichael declared. "What happened, Isabella?"
"I went for a walk," Isa told her, reluctantly facing the inevitable. Sooner or later she would have to explain, but at the moment her first thought was to get into a hot bath and some clean clothes. "I was in the woods on the south boundary," she said, "and I fell into that awful lake."
"Awful?" The old lady echoed her opinion with raised brows, standing over her, as unrelenting in her manner as Toby often was, and Isa found it difficult to believe there were no blood ties between them.
"It's so dark and—and creepy," Isa told her, wondering how long it was since the old lady had seen the place.
"I presume you're talking about the pool in the south wood," Lady Carmichael said, "which, as far as I remember, was not in the least awful! Explain yourself, child!" She looked again at Isa's damp and stained clothes and shook her head. "No, you'd better go and get out of those wet things first," she told her. "Bath and change and rid yourself of that dreadful smell!"
"Yes, of course, my lady!" Isa needed no second
bidding. She fled, her sandals squelching on the stairs as she went until she bent and slipped them off, continuing barefoot the rest of the way.
"You will have to explain yourself when I see you again!" Lady Carmichael called after her warningly, and Isa paused at the top of the stairs to look back at her.
"I—I have to start cooking dinner very soon, my lady," she reminded her. "I won't have—"
"After dinner, after dinner!" An impatient hand waved away excuses. "Now for heaven's sake get into a bath, child, and remove that awful smell!"
It took rather longer than she anticipated to rid herself of the last vestiges of the weed and Isa noticed with relief that it was indeed high time she started to prepare their evening meal. At least the fact that she was required in the kitchen meant that she was spared explanations for the time being, and she thanked heaven for the respite. Apart from anything else she was not yet ready to try and explain the unknown creature that had frightened her so, and she had an uneasy suspicion that she would not be believed when she did.
Isa half expected Toby to visit the kitchen, for the old lady would inevitably report her mishap to him, and she cooked dinner in a state of suspended agitation. The wonder was, in the circumstances, that the meal was as good as it turned out. To her relief no one said anything about the incident during dinner, in fact Toby spent most of the time regaling his grandmother with the details of a case he had in court that morning, but Isa suspected he
had been told, from his behaviour. The way he cocked a curious brow at her every so often, and the glitter of mingled curiosity and laughter that lurked in his eyes, gave him away, and aroused her anger again when she thought of him finding it funny.
Lady Carmichael retired to her own small sitting-room after dinner and informed Isa that she would not be required again, since she intended writing some letters. It would have suited Isa better if the old lady had been there when the subject of the pool was raised, but there was nothing she could do about it.
She saw the old lady safely upstairs, then returned to the sitting-room to collect her book, hoping to escape to her own room without being called to account, for Toby was still there. During dinner she had had time to think while the two of them talked together, and she had already had second thoughts about being too aggressive about her mishap. The matter could be raised at some other time when she was able to put her case more coolly. Toby was far too good an advocate to face while she was still feeling shaky from the ordeal.
She managed to collect her book without comment, and was on her way out of the door when Toby called her back, and she turned and looked at him reluctantly, in no doubt of his reasons. His blue eyes regarded her for a moment as she stood in the doorway, and he leaned against the tall, elegant Georgian mantel, one hand touching his chin, an air of speculation about him.
"Well?" he prompted gently at last, and Isa hastily looked down at her hands, doing her best to avoid his gaze.
"Lady Carmichael's told you," she guessed, resigned to the inevitable, and he nodded.
"Yes, Grandmama told me," he agreed in that soft, quiet voice that could do such disturbing things to her senses if she allowed it to. "I carefully kept out of the kitchen before dinner," he went on, his eyes fixed on her steadily as he spoke. "I thought it might be more prudent !"
"I was busy," Isa said. "It isn't very easy to cook dinner with someone getting under your feet."
"I hadn't thought of it like that," he said with a slight inclination of his head. "I heard you were dripping with water and smelled to high heaven of some noxious weed," he added. "Something to do with falling into the pool in the south wood, I understood, so I thought it might be safer if I gave you a wide berth until you'd had time to cool down."
The confession, made with such bland frankness, had the surprising effect of making her want to laugh, but she hastily stifled the feeling. She had every right to be angry about the danger of that hidden lake and if she laughed now it, would give him quite the wrong impression of her feelings. Since he had insisted on raising the matter, she would let him know how she felt in no uncertain manner.
Sticking out her chin, she looked at him with a bright gleam in her eyes that must have warned him she had cooled off less than he expected. "It's
dangerous," she informed him with calculated coolness. "That lake—pool, or whatever you call it, is a definite hazard in more ways than one!"
"To whom?" The question was pedantically correct and Isa suspected he had made it so, deliberately to provoke her.
"To me, for one!" she said shortly. "No one had warned me about there being a lake there and I almost walked right into it—I could have drowned! And suppose a child was to stray in there—the danger is obvious!"
"It's unlikely a child would stray in there," Toby remarked quietly, "it's too far from the road for stray trespassers."
"Nevertheless," Isa insisted, "I fell into it and I had difficulty getting out again !"
"And you blame me?" He asked the question quietly, but she suspected he resented the accusation, despite that persistent gleam of amusement that still lingered in his eyes.
<
br /> "It's your responsibility !" Isa informed him. "You should do something about it ! And that great creature too! Heaven knows what it is or how it got there, but it shouldn't be allowed to remain there and—and frighten people half to death!" She was warming to her cause now, and all the discomfort she had endured after falling into the pool showed in her pink flushed cheeks and the bright indignant glitter of her eyes.
"What creature?" Toby asked, regarding her curiously. "There are fish in there, or there used to be, but there's no Loch Ness monster, to my knowledge."
"This couldn't have been a fish," Isa denied, though she felt much less sure of her argument now that she came to think about it. She used her hands and the full length of her arms to demonstrate the size of the creature she had seen. "It was huge, and it had enormous pointed teeth and bulging eyes!" Her own graphic description recalled the thing she had seen looking up at her from the depths of that fathomless pool, and she shuddered involuntarily at the memory.
For a few seconds Toby looked puzzled, then to her intense chagrin, he laughed. Isa glared at him indignantly while he shook his head and laughed unrestrainedly for several minutes before he had breath enough to speak., "Oh, Isabella," he said at last, "you are priceless!"
"I fail to see anything funny about falling into a filthy pond with a vicious creature like that!" Isa declared angrily. "I—I could have been hurt!"
He looked at her for a moment and his blue eyes were still glistening with the laughter he barely restrained. "I know they grow pretty big if the water's not fished," he told her, "but don't you know a pike when you see one, you little ignoramus?"
