by Paula Clamp
Rosie angrily wiped tomato seeds from her hands onto a dishcloth, "There are men out there, our loved ones, who right now are cold and up to their necks in water-weeds, silt and muck. And do you know what - they're going to say 'thank God' for your 'picnic'. I’ve been patient with you, Ellie, we all have. You’re a child and you can’t be held responsible for those that have gone before you, but…"
For the third time that day, Ellie felt the burning sensation of tears. This time they were caused by the combined forces of confusion, stupidity and uselessness. What did Rosie mean by ‘held responsible’? There and then Ellie decided that as soon as Bap was found safe and well, she would pack her things and leave. If Lusty had more to tell about her mother, Ellie didn't have the courage to find out.
Fiona read her thoughts and gave Ellie an unfriendly, self-satisfied nod as a gesture of 'serves you right'. But this didn’t bother Ellie. She would have much preferred a mouthful of heated rebuke from anyone else, rather than just one, single cold word from Rosie and Ena.
"Shouldn’t someone go over to the boy's mother?" The question, asked by a round, elderly woman, slicing onions by the sink, instantly cut through the tension.
"Father Daly has already gone over." Ena re-confirmed her position in charge, "The Ma's not been well and he's going to wait with her. I think that's best."
Nods of agreement and unity spread around the kitchen. Ellie, desperate for acceptance, added an emphatic, 'Yeah, that’s best’, rather louder than she intended.
"Right…" Ena dusted crumbs away from her hands, "How are we going to carry all this lot?"
Ena and Rosie led the way with torches and candles, down the lane and through the forest. It was just after midnight. The only sounds were the curses of those wearing high heels as they got wedged in the dense undergrowth, or when tights got snagged on brambles. Ellie's responsibility fell to carrying one side of a large wicker picnic basket. On the other side was Fiona. She was easily a foot shorter than Ellie; hence all the weight had shifted to her side. One tiny consolation.
The sky was crystal clear, except for one band of cloud stretching across the moon, smudged like a badly rubbed-out charcoal drawing. If only the moonlight would reappear. Ellie clumsily tried to redress the imbalance of the basket, but only made the matter worse.
"Are you okay with the weight?" Ellie asked Fiona in an attempt at friendship, “I’m not sure how much further we have to go.”
"Why? Do you want to go back?" Fiona hissed, in between out-of-breath gulps for air as she swapped the heavy load from her left to her right hand.
“No, I was just thinking…”
"We're here about a boy, who is lost in a lake…” Fiona’s pointy chin wobbled with anger, “Not everything is about you."
"There they are!" Rosie pointed her torch through an avenue of poker-straight conifers.
The band of cloud drifted to reveal the full moon, which instantly bounced off a black, smooth skin of water; upon which were three small rowing boats. Besides them were ripples caused by heads momentarily gulping for air and then plunging back into the inky blackness.
Very quickly, the women busied themselves; providing blankets and food for the men who rested and verbal support and encouragement to those who still searched. The Lusty search party had instinctively divided into those who looked, those who recovered and those who provided backup. Everyone was slotted into a role. There was nobody who could be said to be superfluous, except, thought Ellie, for herself. She awkwardly attempted to assist the women, but at every turn, she found herself a hindrance more than a help. Feeling now like a complete outsider, Ellie began to desperately search for a way she could make a difference. Luckily, she saw at least one friendly face among the next batch of exhausted, drenched rescuers, recovering on the bank.
“Are you okay, Paddy?”
He lay face down on the scorched grassy bank, coughing up an acid mixture of water and bile.
"Hiya." Saliva still hung from his lips as he panted, “This is nothing. I’ll head back out there in a minute or two.” He lamely coughed again.
“Have there been any developments?” Ellie pleaded.
Paddy shook his soaking head, “No.”
“Have you seen Ronan? Is he okay?”
"He's still out there. He hasn't come back yet. They're both still out there."
"Both?"
"Aye, Ronan and Conor."
Ellie’s feelings for both boys, whom she’d only just met, were complicated and confused. If anything happened to Bap, or to Ronan and Conor, in their search for him, she would never, ever forgive herself. What did Rosie mean about her being responsible, just like her family? Did she possess some kind of family curse? Ellie dropped her head forward in dismay and her loose hair began to fall over her face. The moonlight picked out the tip of her nose.
"It's okay, Big English Girl."
Ellie glanced across at Paddy, who now held her hand. His face was puce and splattered with weeds.
"I'm alright." Paddy reassured Ellie, thinking she was upset about him.
"Are you sure?" Ellie smiled warmly, "I was worried about you there for a minute."
"Don't you worry - it'll take more than a gallon of murky water sloshing around the lungs to topple Paddy Doherty.”
Ellie stared back out to the black lake, "Do you think the boy will be okay?"
"Well, his mates said he was a strong swimmer, so let's hope Bap can keep himself a float until we find him."
The ten-year-old boy's face came flooding back to Ellie; wide eyes trying to peek under her skirt and a cheeky grin when she asked him to help her. Now the guilt she felt for involving him was unbearable.
Paddy inhaled a huge gulp of air and sprung up from the bank. He shook his dripping hair, like a dog, and with a wink set off back to join the men searching in the lake. Ellie felt that any help she offered would simply be rejected again, but she couldn't just sit there and do nothing.
Chapter 34
Deciding to patrol the dark banks of the lake, Ellie searched to see if possibly Bap had found safety there. The bank was lush with sedge and fen thistle; in scattered clumps, sprouted brown mosses and marsh orchid. At the water's edge, the dry grass abruptly turned to thick mud, dotted with reeds and bulrushes. The mud sucked in Ellie’s sandals and then her ankles. As she held each leg and pulled them out with each step, Ellie’s imprint was left behind.
Her movements were slow, too slow; it had taken Ellie a few minutes to go just a few metres and all that she had discovered were a few coots and a moorhen. Ellie felt as useless in this as she was in everything else. And then, with her shins steeped in mud, she remembered one redeeming quality that she had – Ellie was an okay swimmer, not brilliant, but okay; her long levers gave her strength in the water and her body became less gangly and awkward.
Rather than have to struggle with the mud any further, Ellie slipped her feet out of her sandals and left them embedded, creating small hollows. She slipped off her white vest and undid the button and stepped out of her cut-off denim skirt. As she waded out into the lake, the water at first felt like a slight chill; that was until the level reached her bare stomach and she then expelled an uncontrollable, pathetic squeal. Like the waterline on a ship, Ellie could see a dividing line on her flesh, between her freezing, almost purple submerged body and the warmer, pink flesh above. There was no other way of doing this, but to throw herself into the lake and get on with it. On the count of three, she decided that she would lunge forwards and begin to swim; on 'nine', she eventually made the leap.
Ellie swam, frantically, until she felt that her body had heated itself enough.
When she finally lifted her head to see where she was heading, she was already near the centre of the lake, a good two-hundred metres from the rest of the search party and their boats. The moonlight was still bright and behind she could see the women busying themselves on the bank. Their voices reached her, but were dulled, as if Ellie was lying with her ears under the water in the
bath. Every so often, a clear and articulate, 'Bap! 'Bap!' reverberated across the still water, followed by a swoosh, as yet another diver re-emerged to face his disappointed companions.
For a moment, as she treaded water, Ellie recalled the face of the lost boy once again; full of childish mischief. She knew nothing about him, other than those few images that were now burned into her memory bank. Ellie wouldn't be able to record over them, in the same way she had failed to do with so many bitter experiences; such as the memory of the white carnations that spelt out 'Mum', or the red ones for 'Wife', or the curled up sandwiches back at the house after her mother’s funeral service and the firm handshakes of condolence. There were no hugs then for a strapping girl like Ellie. And now, a boy whom she would never have given a second thought to, was also welded in the memory banks forever.
Ellie began to shiver again, as she swam over to the men and their boats. She made a quick decision that they would have to concede to her presence; it would be more hassle to send the interloper back, than to let her search with them. Now nearing them, the men's voices became clearer and provided reassurance.
Dipping her head into the murky water again, Ellie began to swim forwards, but as she did so she felt a small wave slightly knock her off course. She stopped; a second wave, a ripple on the glass-like surface, bounced off her half-naked body. This time, a faint ‘Mammy’ trailing off across the water followed it. Ellie swiftly rotated her body around as she desperately searched for the source of the cry, but once again, visibility deteriorated when the bashful moon hid behind a bank of black cloud.
"He's here! Over here!" Ellie bellowed towards the men's flashing torchlights, as they danced across the water.
In a second the beams were all pointed towards her, like stage spotlights.
"I heard him! He's here somewhere!"
A frenzy of rowing and swimming followed as the searchers scrambled over towards Ellie. As they neared her, the fury stopped and calmly and tentatively they moved forward inch-by-inch, stroke-by-stroke.
"Where did you hear him?" Conor swam up close besides Ellie.
She had never felt so glad to see anyone in her life. He looked exhausted. It was difficult to work out what was weed and what was his hair, as it hung saturated down his face. The familiar wide, chocolate-brown eyes were narrow and black.
"I can't be sure, but he sounded near."
"Are you okay?" Conor wiped Ellie's cheek.
"Yeah," She wanted to cry, again. After all the frostiness, that one act of gentleness was overwhelming.
"Shush everyone!" Conor reached up onto a rowing boat beside him and lifted a torch.
With his body supported on the side of the boat, Conor used his left hand to scan the surface of the water, using the torch to rotate like a lighthouse. Ellie could hear nothing; there was no sound, no voice, no more 'Mammy'. It was too late; Ellie had got there too late.
"He's over there!" Conor stopped the light just a few metres to Ellie's left, "I heard something there!"
"That was just a water rat." Ronan added firmly, as he too was now up close besides Ellie.
"I heard him, there!" Conor was adamant. His usual laconic expression was stern and steadfast.
Conor's continued commitment to what he had heard was enough to, finally, persuade Ronan and once he was persuaded, the rest of the search party followed suit and began to frantically dive in, around where the torch was still pointing. Ellie took a deep breath and she too dived under the surface. With all the torchlight now focused on the one area, the light shafts managed to filter through the milky water for a few feet. The illumination was enough for Ellie to see that around her, there was neither boy nor body.
She came up for air and then submerged for a second time. Ellie caught a glimpse of Conor before he disappeared into the blackness. After a stop for more air and under for a third time, Ellie could still see nothing; that was until, in the distance, she recognised Ronan's long, blonde hair, dancing in slow-motion like anemone under the water's surface. He was frantically hacking away at something with a knife. Ellie swam closer and could just about see the faint trace of tangled fishing-lines, which he was attempting to cut. In turn, these lines were attached to the flailing legs of a boy. Ellie swam as fast as she could towards the frantic couple, but her breath just wasn't holding. She hadn't time to re-submerge; she had to get to them as quickly as possible. As Ellie came nearer, she could see that every few seconds the boy would strain his neck up to the surface. Both his legs were firmly caught in the rats’ nest of tangled line. The gut had cut through his trousers and a dark shadow of blood was oozing up to the surface. With his body stretched fully, the boy was just able to get his mouth to the surface, but with each gulp of air, Ellie could see the painful grimace on his face as the lines cut even deeper.
Now, with her lungs burning for air, Ellie no longer had the strength to swim forwards. Only a few feet away she could see that the lines that Ronan was hacking away at, were not only gripping Bap, but also had cut into his own left leg, at the thigh. Ronan was several feet away from the surface and seconds away from running out of air. Ellie was helpless.
Ellie screamed, but there was no sound; her vocal chords had become frozen. Gulping for air, she could feel the chaos surging around her body, mirroring the chaos of the frantic searchers beyond her. In the short distance between them there appeared to be a silent, tranquil void. No matter how hard Ellie desperately struggled, she could not cross it with sounds. Seconds felt like hours as her silent cries hit this vacuum and disappeared. Her body was so completely exhausted that speaking and breathing were impossible to accomplish at the same time. She began to frantically slap the surface of the water, but when the splashes hit the void they too were transformed to little more than ripples. Her only thoughts were for Ronan and Bap fighting for their lives below the surface and she quickly knew that she had a choice to make; she could either breath, or she could use all her energy to try and scream and get the others' attention. The decision was not difficult.
"He's here…He's here!"
The icy water sucked her under. Ellie’s body felt like it was connected to the lakebed with elastic bands. Beneath her shivering skin, her bones had softened to the malleability of muscles and muscles felt like they were reduced to the liquidity of blood. There was no energy left to fight and for the next few seconds Ellie allowed her body to disintegrate. Around her was total blackness. Flashing through her mind were thoughts not of herself, but of her father. She couldn’t do this to him, not for the second time.
With the vibrant force of love raging through her liquefying body, Ellie found the energy to kick her legs. She lifted her face upwards, towards the dappled light and brought her hands up, pulling hard on the water and scooping them down again by her side. Forcing herself upwards, she pushed through the water's surface and the air plunged deep into her throbbing lungs. Her body and mind were engulfed by adrenaline, so much so, that the sight of, first Bap, and then Ronan as they too came crashing through the water's murky surface with their legs untangled, felt to Ellie like a wonderful, joyous hallucination.
Chapter 35
The hot beef and onion soup and the chunk of bread, splattered in butter, would forever be Ellie's second most memorable meal. Her heart was pumping fast as the adrenaline still surged through her blood. With a heavy blanket around her shoulders, she rested on the bank of the lake, feeling soothed inside and out. As she slurped on her spoon, she was still basking in the afterglow of the warm hug from Rosie and the grudging, 'well done' from Fiona. But she knew the real hero of the moment was now cuddled up in a blanket, in the back of his father's car, on his way to hospital in Cookstown. And beside Ronan was the boy, exhausted, shocked, but alive and well.
"You did a great job there, Ellie."
Ellie drank in the full image of the drenched Conor, now standing beside her, "It was you guys who found him."
"Well, if you hadn't heard him, Ellie, we'd have been searching on the other side of the
lake by now." He sat down on the bank beside her and hungrily tucked into his bowl of soup, which was twice the size of Ellie's.
"It was the least I could do,” Ellie calmed herself for a brief moment, "Anyway, Conor, if you hadn't got everyone to be quiet and heard him the second time, who'd have known what would have happened."
"In that case, we're both terrific." Conor clinked his spoon against hers.
Ellie felt that the last thing she deserved was congratulations, "Really, I suppose Ronan was the most terrific of us all."
"Of course he is." Conor smirked, a parsley leaf stuck to his lip.
Ellie was still slightly panting, but felt very much alive and full of energy, "How he managed to untangle them both, I'll never know. It was great to see you two working together like that - like a team."
Conor didn't look up from his meal, "Maybe, it's because we used to play Gaelic football together when we were wee. I was the one who taught him all his moves."
"You used to be mates?"
"More like brothers, actually. Anyway, he got better and I got worse." Conor’s bowl was near empty and now he began to lick it clean, "And talking of good at things - that was some swimming you were doing out there."
Ellie leant forward and wiped the parsley away, "Maybe, I'm not completely useless after all."
"Maybe, not."
The boats had been returned to their moorings and the women had packed away the picnic hampers and were hurrying back. The black clouds had once again retreated; the moon appeared plump and swollen and cast long shadows deep into the forest.
"We'd better get going." Ellie stood up and pulled the blanket around her body tightly, "What time is it anyway?"
Conor looked at his saturated watch, shook it and they both heard a delicate rattling sound, "A quarter past yesterday."
Ellie smiled, "It must be at least after two."