by Frazer Lee
“Oh, no,” Mike said, “his bark was worse than his bite.”
“He has his moments,” Meggie said, sighing. “Always off chasing rabbits if I don’t keep him to heel.”
“He’s not vegan then, I take it?” Helen asked, smiling.
“No, he’s not. Seems I’m the only one here who is.” Meggie’s voice sounded a little clipped. Her eyes narrowed, and Mike saw a flash of deeper meaning there for a moment before she carried the box over to some shelves and placed it there. Presumably so that it was out of reach of wild predators such as Oscar.
“We went veggie for a bit, didn’t we, Mike?” Helen said.
Mike nodded. Awful memories of couscous and other nonedibles came rushing back. The worst three and a half days of his entire life. He remembered going for drive-through the day that Helen had announced their culinary experiment was over. She was as much a meat eater as he was. The cheeseburger had never tasted so good as it had on that day. “I don’t think I could physically live without bacon,” Mike thought out loud.
“Sure you could,” Meggie said, “and the poor wee pigs certainly would, if you abstained.” She whispered something musical and unintelligible to the bird in the box.
Mike thought it might be Gaelic. He hadn’t known she could speak other languages.
“Couldn’t hack it for long,” Helen said. “A week, wasn’t it, Mike?”
“Three and a half days,” Mike corrected, seeing Meggie roll her eyes.
Helen hadn’t noticed. “I think it was the soya milk that did it,” she continued. “Disgusting.” She shuddered and pulled a face.
“I always find it strange,” Meggie said, “that meat eaters can claim to be such animal lovers.”
Mike glanced at the little box containing the bird.
“I don’t claim to…I do love animals,” Helen said.
“Only certain animals,” Meggie replied. “You two rushed in here to help me with the bird. But at breakfast you were eating dead pig. See, to me, this bird and the bacon on your plates are one and the same thing.”
“The bird isn’t part of our food chain though,” Mike said. All this talk of bacon was making him hungry for seconds – a development he decided to keep to himself. For now, at least.
“Neither is Oscar,” Meggie retorted, “but they do eat dogs in China.”
“Oh, Jesus. That’s gross. It would never be socially acceptable over here,” Helen said.
“And yet, eating pigs is. Cows and lambs, chickens. All ‘socially acceptable’ murder meat. And what did you both have in your coffee this morning? Cows’ milk.”
“I read somewhere that if you don’t milk a cow, it dies,” Mike offered.
Meggie laughed at that and then threw him what could perhaps best be described as a pitying look, although withering have might been a better fit. “Well, wherever you read that they forgot to mention that they also fit dairy cows with these horrible contraptions they call milking preventers so the calves can’t feed from their udders.”
“Pull the udder one,” Mike quipped.
Helen scowled at him and mouthed silently for him to shut up.
Meggie went on, oblivious, her voice building in intensity until she was almost sermonizing. “Humans are literally stealing milk from baby cows. How has that become socially acceptable? If people didn’t breed cows for dairy production, then they’d just feed their young as nature intended. The male calves are sent for slaughter, of course, because they’re of little or no value. They end up in cheap supermarket burgers, no doubt. I never want to be in a food chain that does all that….”
Mike swallowed, and his stomach gurgled at all this talk of dairy products and hamburgers. He really hoped that Meggie had not heard it.
“Fair enough,” Helen said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had crept into the studio like a fog.
Outside and far away, Oscar barked. The sound echoed off the trees that surrounded the loch.
“Better try and get that one under control,” Meggie said, and Mike noticed she had tears in her eyes. “I’ll check how the bird’s doing later, when we get back from the village, Helen.”
“Sure,” Helen replied as Meggie left the outbuilding.
“Well, that went well,” Mike muttered, making sure that Meggie was out of hearing range.
“Bit on the intense side, isn’t she?” Helen ambled over to the unfinished painting, tracing the sweeping lines made by the brushstrokes with her fingers. “She’s a good artist though,” Helen mused. “Completely mental, but good.”
Mike joined her, placing his arm around her shoulders. Helen leaned into him, and he welcomed her warmth in the slight damp of the studio.
Mike studied the painting for a moment. “Artists always have to be a bit batshit though, don’t they?”
“True enough.” Helen shrugged before kissing him on the cheek. Something about the way she was looking at him gave Mike pause.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Helen said, smiling at him. She glanced at the little box on the shelf. “Think that poor bird will live?”
“If it doesn’t, we can always eat it,” Mike chuckled.
“Don’t!” Helen said, laughing.
“What? Few breadcrumbs, nice dollop of murder gravy.…”
Helen broke their embrace and led him by the hand toward the open door. “Just don’t let the vegan avenger see you,” she said, and they both laughed.
Mike strolled outside after her and listened to Meggie calling Oscar’s name in the distance as they walked. The dog’s barking had ceased. Coast clear, he and Helen headed back toward the kitchen.
Chapter Four
“Relax the line, din’nae lose it! Din’nae bloody lose it!”
Mike gripped the side of the rowing boat with both hands, watching the powerful silhouette of the fish break the water as it struggled against Alex’s hook. It looked to be a fine trout.
“I know what I’m doing, don’t distract me, man.” Alex was half-standing, half-kneeling at the dead center of the boat, struggling to keep control of his catch. “Move around to the other side, will you? Or you’ll capsize the bloody boat. Slowly now!”
Mike shuffled backward, then ducked under Alex’s arms to avoid getting caught up in the fishing line. The reel made a high-pitched whirring sound as Alex let more line out before he started reeling it back in again.
“Come on, you bugger,” Alex muttered under his breath. He was in silent concentration now. It was just him and the fish, bonded by the line that joined them. But the fish did not want to join its captor on land, that much was certain. Mike watched Alex as he skillfully began to play the trout closer to the boat, allowing it enough of a run to keep it on the hook but not so much that it could free itself from his grasp.
Mike watched the darting fish as it powered through the water, just feet away from the boat now. It swam deep, and Alex made a frustrated smacking sound with his teeth. Gripping the rod tight in both hands, he shifted his weight to compensate for the movement of the fish.
“Cannae let the bastard swim under the boat or I’ll bloody well lose it,” he said, breathless. “Get the net ready, mate.”
Mike grabbed the net and held it aloft, ready to plunge it into the water the moment Alex instructed. Leaning over the side of the boat, Mike saw the fish retracing its sideward path through the water. Alex used the line to close the gap slightly. Now it would have to swim ever closer to the boat. As the fish tried to swim deeper, Mike’s gaze followed its dark shape down beneath the glassy surface of the loch. The clouds broke, and the afternoon sun reflected on the still surface, making Alex’s job even harder. With the glare in his eyes, he could no longer see where the fishing line met the water.
“Never let me say you don’t need sunglasses in Scotland,” Alex sighed. Then he sighed again, but this time in relief as th
e clouds obscured the sun once more.
Mike searched the depths, looking for the fish beneath the water. He saw a shape – much bigger than a fish – and recoiled, dropping the net inside the boat.
A human body lay floating just below the surface of the black depths, facedown. She was dressed in a white nightgown that billowed out around her, shroud-like. Her skin was pale as death and mottled gray from who knew how long in the water. Mike gagged at the sight of the tangled hair, floating like seaweed with its strands now and then licking at the surface of the water. Bubbles rose up from the deep, breaking on the surface of the water, and Mike smelled the foulness of corruption and decay as each bubble popped. He clamped a hand over his mouth as the body started to roll over in the water. The surface of the loch smoothed over the pale skin like the sickly film on a cataract eye. As it righted itself, the dead body floated closer to the side of the boat. It was directly beneath him now, dead face revealed to the sky above.
The face was Meggie’s. The hair that undulated like fronds in the water was of a ruddy hue. It was definitely her, but how? He had seen her driving her car, with Helen and Kay in the passenger seats, just a couple of hours ago. She should be in the village, shopping, not dead in the water. His jaw dropped open, and a sound that he didn’t recognize came out of his throat. And then the sound became a strangled scream like all the animals in a slaughterhouse dying all at once – for he saw Meggie’s dead eyes open. They were milk-white and lifeless but still seeing somehow, and they looked right through him. Or, rather, deep into him. Mike felt the cold grip of fear at his heart, and he fell back into the boat, rocking it violently as he went.
“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Alex was shouting. “I told you to grab the bloody net!”
Mike floundered, then willed himself into action. Her eyes had opened. She was still alive. He had no idea how, but that must be it. Either she was still alive or he was totally losing his mind. Mike grabbed hold of the net and crawled back to the side of the boat.
“Quickly, man!”
Alex must have seen her too. Mike felt a rush of relief that he hadn’t taken leave of his senses after all. He readied himself to thrust the pole of the net across the water so Meggie could reach it. They would have to hope she still had enough strength to grab hold of the net so they could then pull her closer to the boat and haul her inside. Leaning over the side of the boat once again, Mike peered back into the water. She was gone. There was no dead body. What he had mistaken for tangled red hair was a cluster of algae that drifted by just beneath the surface of the loch.
“Nearly bloody lost it, no thanks to you,” Alex spat as he maneuvered the exhausted fish to the side of the boat. “Do not fuck this up, mate.”
Mike scooped into the water with the net. Even now, he was fearful he might feel the dull snag of lifeless fingers on the net. Dread dulled the beating of his heart as he swept the net through the spot where he had seen her, bloated and pale and – nightmarishly – neither dead nor alive.
“It’s a beauty! It’s a fucking beauty!” Alex exclaimed, dropping his rod and taking the net pole from Mike’s trembling hands.
Mike tried to smile, to act normal.
What the actual fuck did I just see? he thought.
Whatever it was, it had gone now, and he laughed, more in hysterics than anything else. Alex misread his laughter as celebration for the fish and slapped him on the back, hard.
“We’ll eat well tonight, hey, mate?” Alex chuckled. The tension had gone between them; now there was only Alex’s elation at a successful fishing expedition.
And now that his apparently dead sister wasn’t floating in the water in her nightgown.
Mike shivered uncontrollably. He watched Alex as he set about removing the hook from the enormous trout’s dying mouth. Beating a retreat, Mike sank back against the unyielding wooden surface of the boat and wanted, more than he had ever wanted anything, to be back on dry land and away from the still, black waters of the loch.
* * *
The girls were waiting for them on the jetty when Alex triumphantly rowed them back in.
Mike winced when he saw Meggie, his nightmarish hallucination of her dead body in the water still so vivid to him. He didn’t know whether he needed to have a smoke or to pack it in. Meggie was very much alive, sitting, laughing and joking beside the water with Helen and Kay. They had shopping bags with them, from which they were passing around snacks. Alex seemed particularly pleased to see bottles of booze poking over the top of the bags. His blood was up after catching the fish, and Mike felt sure his friend would be indulging in some single malts as soon as he was on dry land again.
“Hey, hunter-gatherers! Catch anything for us poor, hungry womenfolk to eat?” Kay laughed.
“Aye, you look like you’re wasting away there!” Alex called out in reply. “Save some bloody crisps for us at least, you gannets!”
The girls laughed and teased Alex and Mike with the snacks, pretending to devour all of them. They looked like they’d had an enjoyable day. Mike felt relieved to be back in the fold after all the weirdness on the water. He secretly enjoyed being surrounded by the girls, especially when Alex was at peak machismo – as he was right now. Alex guided the boat to the jetty, and it rocked slightly as it bumped against the mooring post. He threw the rope over the side, and Meggie stood up and helped him tie it off.
“Thanks, sis,” Alex said, ignoring her disapproving look at the dead fish.
“Don’t suppose you heard anything of Oscar while you were out there?”
“Not a peep. Still not back then?”
Meggie shook her head, and Mike could tell she was trying not to appear too worried. It wasn’t working. She was clearly concerned about her best four-legged friend.
“Bloody liability, that pup. He’ll come back soon as we start cooking this beastie,” Alex said and proudly lifted up the net containing the enormous fish.
The girls laughed and cheered.
“Look, girls, they sneaked off to the fishmonger’s while we were gone,” Kay joked.
“Bloody cheek of it,” Alex said, turning to Mike, who shrugged.
“We’ll have to eat it all, I reckon, mate,” Mike said. He too was trying not to look worried, and he hoped it was working. He didn’t want to have to explain that he had hallucinated seeing Alex’s sister dead in the water while they were on their fishing trip.
Helen’s eyes met his. She looked quizzical for a moment and then guarded. If anyone could read that there was something on his mind, it was her. She looked as though she was about to say something to him, but then Meggie spoke and the moment was gone.
“That’s quite a catch,” Meggie said.
“Yes, I am,” Kay said, laughing at her own joke.
“In your dreams,” Alex said before trying, and failing, to dodge her punch to this arm.
“Shame you boys couldn’t set it free,” Meggie muttered.
“Shame you’re being so vegan and virtuous,” Alex said to his sister. “Don’t know what you’re missing – this beauty is going to be bloody delicious.”
Meggie just shrugged and helped Alex with the net as he clambered out of the boat. He turned back for the gear, which Mike passed to him before hopping onto the jetty beside him. Helen grabbed Mike’s hand and hugged him tight. She stared into his eyes, and he noticed that hers looked wet and filled with emotion.
“You all right?” she asked him.
“Yeah,” Mike mumbled, “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”
“Never better,” she replied.
Wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, she led him by the hand toward the cottage. Her hand was small and warm in his, and he could feel her pulse through her wrist against his. This unspoken connection made him feel closer to Helen, but also alienated from her. Helen was given to mood swings – he’d been with her long enough t
o know that – but he’d never seen her get weepy over anything other than her favorite Netflix show. Mike didn’t know how to read her right now. He pulled her hand, slowing her down for a second.
“You sure you’re okay?” he said.
She nodded, breaking into a wide smile, her eyes still glassy. “It’s just this…this place,” she said, as though that would explain everything.
“This place,” Mike repeated. He glanced back at the dark, still waters of the loch.
“I don’t know,” Helen went on. “We’ve been in the city for so long, studying and cramming for exams.”
“Speak for yourself,” Mike said. “I’ve been partying, mostly.”
She nudged him to shut up. “I don’t want to sound like I’m away with the fairies. Like Kay, or Meggie for that matter, but.…”
“Helen, I shall have to tell them both that you said that about them.”
“You bloody dare, mister.”
“Sorry, only kidding around. Go on, what was it you wanted to say?”
Helen sighed. “It’s…it’s just…coming here, it’s just kind of magical. I feel, well, connected is perhaps the best way I can put it.”
“Makes sense, I suppose,” Mike ventured.
“You’ve been here before, I know. Was it like this the first time for you?”
“Yeah, a bit. It’s a total change from the city, you know, from Edinburgh. But I think the wide-open spaces can get to you after a while. And no bloody wi-fi.”
“Oh, the wi-fi, thanks for reminding me,” Helen said. “Still, we girls got our Instagram fix in the village today.”
“You had a signal?”
“Yes, we did,” Helen said boastfully.
“No fair,” Mike replied.
“I just feel like we’re on the cusp of something new, here at this place,” Helen said. “Like everything will change now that we’ve graduated. Nothing will ever be the same again, somehow. Don’t you feel that too?”
Strange fish, Mike thought as Helen squeezed his hand and led him back toward Hearthstone Cottage.
* * *