The Flood Read online

Page 7


  Auryn nodded. ‘I think he’s more anxious than me to get away.’

  ‘No surprise. If Henry McKearney was my dad, I wouldn’t stick around either.’ Franklyn made little dents in the beer can with her fingertips. ‘If he’s smart, he’ll hang on to you.’

  Auryn frowned. ‘What d’you mean by that?’

  ‘He’s not got much to look forward to here, has he? If he can escape Stonecrop and tough it out at university, he’s smart enough to go far. But studying medicine is a long hard slog. He’ll need support.’

  ‘You mean financially.’ A hard edge crept into Auryn’s voice. ‘You think he’s only staying with me because our family’s got money.’

  ‘I never said that.’

  ‘You’re thinking it pretty loudly.’

  Franklyn drained her beer. ‘No, I’m not. You and Leo need to support each other. That’s all I mean. It’s a big, scary, horrid world out there. Even if it is better than this fucking place.’

  Stephanie raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s some fine language. Are you sure you’re cut out to be a vicar?’

  Franklyn laughed and threw the empty can at her, and the tension in the room dissipated for a while.

  9

  Daniela went to the kitchen for another beer. Although she tried to keep pace with the others, she was still a lightweight, and if she didn’t moderate her intake, she’d be asleep in an hour. She was already pleasantly warm around the ears.

  The kitchen was a large square that jutted from the rear of the house. Whoever designed the house had included a picture window, even though the kitchen faced nothing more interesting than trees and mud, and didn’t get the sun at any time of year. A rustic wooden table with matching chairs took up the centre of the room.

  Daniela dropped the empty can into the recycling bin and opened the fridge. Apart from the large quantity of beer on the bottom shelf, the fridge was all but empty. Daniela’s stomach rumbled. She’d neglected to eat since lunch. She should’ve picked something up from the shop, but her mind had been elsewhere.

  She still wondered what Franklyn and Henry had been arguing about.

  A soft step alerted her to Auryn coming into the kitchen. ‘I’m putting the kettle on,’ Auryn said, stifling a yawn. ‘I need coffee or I’ll fall asleep. Is there anything to eat?’

  ‘There might be crisps.’

  Together they rifled the cupboards and came up with a few packets of crisps and some chocolate biscuits. It was hardly a fitting meal for the four of them. Auryn tipped the crisps into bowls to take through to the front room.

  ‘Just leave them in the packets,’ Daniela said. ‘Why make the extra washing-up?’

  ‘You people are savages. Eat food off plates like normal people.’

  ‘Crisps barely count as food.’ Daniela stole a salt-and-vinegar crisp. ‘Is Leo okay? Has he called?’

  ‘Not yet. I phoned earlier but he said he couldn’t talk and he’d call me back.’ Auryn arranged biscuits on a plate. Daniela didn’t mock her this time. ‘I wish he’d speak to me. About his family, I mean. On other stuff I have to fight to shut him up, but as soon as anyone mentions his parents …’

  ‘Is he still getting grief about going to uni?’

  ‘I think so. His dad’s always said he wants Leo to take over the shop from him eventually. But Leo won’t talk about it.’ Auryn lowered her voice. ‘Don’t tell him I said anything, obviously, but he’s pretty stressed. It’s not just being away from home, or what his dad thinks about it. He’s worried how we’re gonna afford everything.’

  ‘What’s he worried for? Our dad will cover it.’

  ‘I know, but … he doesn’t like relying on someone. He knows what people think of him. What Franklyn was saying … he knows, Dani. It bugs the hell out of him. Leo wants to cover his own bills. At least that way he’ll know no one’s talking behind his back.’

  The bitterness in Auryn’s tone was so unexpected Daniela dropped the subject.

  Auryn asked, ‘So, what the heck was going on with Henry?’

  Daniela glanced towards the kitchen door. The murmur of voices was audible from the front room. ‘Search me,’ she said. ‘Franklyn and him were arguing when I got there.’

  ‘What was Franklyn saying?’

  ‘I didn’t hear.’ Daniela shrugged. ‘It could’ve been anything. Those two have always had a personality clash.’

  A pause, then Auryn said, ‘What did you take from the shop?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You put something in your sleeve as you were going out.’

  Daniela winced. She’d thought Auryn had missed that. ‘Yeah,’ she admitted.

  ‘What was it?’

  Talking to Auryn felt safer than talking to the others. Growing up, she and Auryn had shared everything. There’d been no secrets between them. So, after only a brief hesitation, Daniela said, ‘Let me show you.’

  She fetched her jacket from where it was hanging in the hallway and brought it into the kitchen. The weight of the knife was a heaviness she’d felt all afternoon as she carried it around. She shook the knife out of the pocket into her hand.

  Auryn’s eyes went wide. ‘Dani, what—?’

  ‘It was on Henry’s desk. I thought … I dunno, I thought maybe he was reaching for it during the argument.’ Looking back, Daniela was no longer certain of that.

  Auryn blinked several times as if trying to process this. ‘You think he would’ve hurt Franklyn?’

  Daniela didn’t want to think about that. ‘No. No, it was just a dumb argument. He’s all mouth, you know that.’ She shoved the knife back into its pocket and folded her jacket onto the kitchen table.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Auryn didn’t look convinced at all. ‘There’s always been rumours about him. And what happened with Mum …’

  ‘Mum left,’ Daniela said shortly. ‘No mystery about it. Anyway, you can’t listen to rumours. Literally you can’t, if you’re planning on being a lawyer. Isn’t there a whole bit about not prejudging your clients?’

  ‘Don’t take the piss,’ Auryn said, without malice. She spooned instant coffee into a cup. ‘You know what I mean. There’s always been something … off about him. You wouldn’t mess with him.’

  ‘Me? God, no. But this is Franklyn. She can look after herself, can’t she?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Auryn watched the kettle come to the boil. ‘She’s changed since she went away. In a good way, maybe.’

  That was true. There’d always been a hardness, a tension about Franklyn, all through childhood, as if at any moment she might fly off the handle. But since she’d left home, the edge had gone from her temper. In every other way she was the same – the quick smile, the easy-going speech – but there was no longer something darker concealed beneath. She seemed … at peace. No, that was the wrong word. She’d found an internal balance. The fight with Henry seemed suddenly out of character, a relapse to worse times.

  It troubled Daniela that things were changing, even though change was what she craved. She felt like someone had nudged a boulder at the top of a steep slope, just enough to start it rolling, but no one was sure how far it might fall or who it would crush.

  ‘Why’d you take the knife?’ Auryn asked.

  Daniela clucked her tongue. ‘Man, you’re as bad as Steph sometimes.’

  ‘Thanks a bunch. So, why?’

  Daniela thought before answering. ‘I just wanted to get it out of Henry’s hands. Even if he wasn’t planning to use it. I didn’t want anyone being tempted to grab it.’

  ‘Why not give it to Steph straight away?’

  ‘Because … I don’t know. The argument wasn’t a big deal. Just a scuffle and some shouting. I over-reacted and panicked a bit.’ She sighed. ‘But if I tell Steph I grabbed a knife in the middle of it—’

  ‘She’ll listen if you explain.’

  ‘Maybe. I mean, she’ll bend the rules for us, but you never know for sure how she’ll react.’

  Auryn grunted in agreement. ‘It was ba
d enough when she’d tell Dad on us. Now she can throw us in the cells for the night.’

  Daniela chuckled. ‘It’d be funny to see her try.’

  ‘Possibly. So, what’ll you do with it?’

  Daniela hadn’t thought that far. ‘I’ll get rid of it,’ she heard herself say. ‘I’ll get up early and throw it in the river.’

  ‘Good plan.’ Auryn relaxed.

  In the calm atmosphere of the evening, with the four of them in the same room for what would prove to be the last time, Daniela fully intended to keep her promise and get rid of the knife.

  10

  February 2017

  Daniela hadn’t planned to go anywhere, until her sister told her to stay. As soon as Stephanie was out of sight, Daniela pushed herself to her feet. The water compressed her boots like cold hands gripping her ankles. She waded up the road away from the old house.

  Seeing Leo again had been an additional kick to the stomach. Daniela hadn’t considered he might be in Stonecrop. As far as she was aware, from second-hand reports in Franklyn’s letters, Auryn and Leo’s relationship had ended shortly after they left for university together. Daniela was glad Leo had become a doctor like he’d intended, and landed a placement at Dewar’s Hospital, but she would’ve liked time to brace herself before seeing him.

  What does it matter? Auryn’s dead.

  In comparison to that inescapable fact, her own complaints were petty and weak.

  Halfway back to the village, she passed the farmer in her tractor again, attaching a rope to the rear of a green Land Rover that had two wheels in the ditch. Daniela offered a hand but the farmer waved it away.

  ‘It’s all right, lass,’ the farmer said. ‘I’ve plenty of experience with this. Really, I should be charging. How much do the RAC cost for a call-out? Sixty quid? Aye, that’ll cover it.’ She laughed.

  Daniela left her to it and walked the rest of the way into Stonecrop.

  By then, the overcast sky was darkening towards nightfall. The sun had stayed hidden all day. Daniela suspected the village wouldn’t see sunshine until summer. It was a depressing thought.

  A tremor ran through her hands. She wasn’t aware of it until she took out her cigarettes and fumbled the packet. It plopped into the water.

  ‘Shit!’

  Of course, the lid was open enough to let water in, and her cigarettes got soaked even though she snatched them up at once. She cursed several more times. Maybe Chris would let her dry them by the fire at the pub …

  Daniela looked up. She was back in the main street now. A light shone in the cluttered window of the Corner Shoppe. Daniela almost smiled. Margaret McKearney – of course she would’ve kept the shop open, no matter what the world threw at her.

  The sandbags around the door were stacked in a neat, efficient manner, and successfully held the six inches of floodwater on the street at bay. Daniela stepped over the bags and pushed open the door. The bell tinkled.

  The smell of the shop produced a much stronger wave of memory than she’d felt in the old house. If anyone had asked her to describe the Shoppe, she wouldn’t have recalled anything concrete. But now it came back in a rush. The ordinary, everyday rows of newspaper racks, the plastic vegetable crates, the jars of sweets, the cigarettes and rolling papers behind the counter. A hundred stupid, irrelevant memories. The only change was the mostly empty shelves. No fresh produce, no bread, no newspapers. It gave the place a vaguely apocalyptic air.

  At the sound of the bell, Margaret came out of the back room, wiping her hands on her blouse hem. It’d always confounded Daniela how Margaret, with her bright smile and sunny demeanour, could’ve married Henry McKearney. Either she was the most easy-going person in the world, or the smiles and laughter were a front. Daniela had been too self-absorbed to find out.

  Margaret looked well. She’d lost the weight she’d always talked about losing, her hair was cut in an attractive bob, and her clothes suited her much better than anything Daniela remembered her wearing. In fact, Daniela realised Margaret wasn’t that old. Certainly not as old as memory led her to believe. An unexpected warmth rose to Daniela’s cheeks.

  ‘What can I get you, love?’ Margaret asked, before she saw who it was. Her expression did something complicated. At last the smile returned, but it was wary and brittle, as if the slightest thing could shatter it. ‘Oh. Hello, stranger.’

  ‘Hello, Mrs McKearney,’ Daniela said, and she was an awkward teenager again, incapable of explaining her actions or appearance.

  Margaret sized her up. ‘Look at you,’ she said. ‘You’ve done a lot of growing, haven’t you?’ Some of the brittleness left her smile. ‘But don’t think just because you’re bigger than me I won’t be watching you. If I catch you with your hands in the sweetie jars, I’ll have your fingers off.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Daniela made a show of looking contrite, with just the right amount of hurt innocence, like she would never dream of filching sweets. But she couldn’t hide her relief. Until she’d walked into the shop, she hadn’t properly considered how Margaret might react. After everything that’d happened seven years ago, Margaret had every reason to hate her.

  But, although Margaret held herself very stiff, with hands clasped on the counter, chin raised, her gaze contained no malice. ‘So, what brings you here?’ she asked.

  ‘I—’ Daniela realised she didn’t want to ask for cigarettes, then immediately felt stupid. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She could buy anything she wanted. ‘I dropped my fags in the water. Can I get some more please?’

  Margaret laughed. She had a gentle laugh, warm and genuine. ‘You came all the way home for cigarettes? My, that’s dedication.’

  Daniela smiled. ‘No. No, I came to see Steph. The fags are just, well …’

  ‘Another senseless victim of this watery disaster.’ Margaret tsk-ed, then turned to open the tobacco display. ‘What’s your particular poison, hon?’ Then, before Daniela could answer: ‘How’s your family anyway? I see Steph all the time, big-lass-around-town that she is, but I hardly hear a peep out of Auryn. How’s she getting on?’

  ‘She’s …’ A lump rose in Daniela’s throat, choking her words. Tears blurred her vision.

  It hit her all at once. Auryn was dead. Really, forever dead. Not one of their games, not some awful morbid joke, just gone forever. How was that possible? How could her sister just be gone? It was like someone had reached into Daniela and torn out a piece of her being.

  She put a hand on a magazine rack to steady herself. Her legs felt like they might buckle. A sob built in her throat and threatened to choke her.

  Margaret came around the counter towards her. ‘Hey, love, what’s wrong? What’s happened?’

  Wordlessly Daniela pushed away from her. She ran out of the shop. The bell tinkled. She almost tripped over the sandbags.

  Out on the street, she sucked in a deep breath. Her heart felt like a solid mass in her chest, suffocating her.

  She stumbled away. Behind her, the bell jangled again as Margaret stepped into the doorway. She called after her but Daniela didn’t stop or look back.

  11

  Hunched in front of the fireplace at the Crossed Swords, Daniela stared into the flames. Her mind ached from the stress of the day.

  She’d very nearly walked past the pub, out of town, and back along the Hackett road. If she’d done that, maybe she could’ve got across the bridge and made it back into Hackett not long after nightfall. But the cold that was seeping up from her wet jeans and socks, and the trembling in her arms and legs that wouldn’t subside, made her hesitate. She went into the pub and plonked herself by the fire as if that might stop her from shaking.

  Chris Roberts saw her expression as soon as she walked in. He left her in peace for ten minutes before coming over to ask if she was okay.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Daniela lied, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. ‘Is it all right if I … if I just sit here for a while, please?’

  ‘Go right ahead, kiddo. Can I get you a drink?’
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  Daniela shook her head. She definitely wanted a drink but she was aware of how little money was left in her pocket. If she started drinking now, she’d never stop.

  Chris went back behind the bar, left it another ten minutes, then brought over a cup of coffee.

  ‘This one’s a mispour,’ he said. ‘Still can’t figure out all the buttons on that machine. You want it?’

  His kindness almost started Daniela crying again. She accepted the coffee gratefully.

  She didn’t intend to sit there for long. All she wanted was a short while to let the turmoil in her head settle, like ashes drifting to the ground. But once she was sat with her hot coffee and the warmth of the fire on her face, she was unable or unwilling to move. She stared, almost motionless, for a least an hour. Images flickered through her brain. She wasn’t thinking, just replaying events, feeling the little jump of shock every time she remembered Auryn was gone.

  On the back of her chair she had hung her jacket. Daniela was aware of the object in the inside pocket, resting against her back. The knife she’d taken from beneath the floorboards of the old house. Lying there alongside the package she’d found.

  Whose was it? Auryn’s? There was no telling how long it had lain hidden. Realistically, anyone with access to the house could’ve put it there. It seemed unlikely it would’ve been Stephanie … and as far as Daniela knew, Franklyn hadn’t been back home in years. Could it have even been Dad who’d left it? She kinda hoped that it was.

  But, in her heart, she worried it was Auryn’s.

  Daniela barely knew Auryn now. They hadn’t spoken for seven years. But she knew some of Auryn’s demons. She knew what haunted her. And Daniela knew Auryn had tried to smother those demons by working too hard and drinking too much, just like their dad.

  Initially, Daniela had assumed it must’ve been illness or neglect that killed Auryn. Auryn hadn’t been taking care of herself; that was obvious. Shutting herself away, drinking, letting the house flood … it wasn’t surprising she could’ve got sick. A chest infection that, untreated, had blossomed into pneumonia, making her sicker and sicker until she’d been too weak to leave the house. The phone was disconnected. She’d collapsed, and been unable to call for help. People would tut and shake their heads and say how fucking tragic it was – tragic but inevitable. Daniela felt a stirring of anger inside her at the thought of how people in Stonecrop would gossip about this.