by Dan Scottow
22
Diana
Still feeling groggy, Diana heads inside. The heat is too much. Besides, she has work to do in her studio. She fills a glass with water in the kitchen, before heading back outside, cutting across the garden to the outhouse. She fumbles for the key in the pocket of her housecoat and unlocks the door.
Stepping in, she swats at some flies with her hand, placing her drink on a sideboard against the rear wall. She leans her cane against it, limping to a stool in front of her canvas. Inhaling, she breathes in the familiar smell of paint thinners. Sitting, she surveys the painting, narrowing her eyes. It might not be what she had intended to create, but there was no denying it was powerful. Picking up her palette, she squeezes a huge mass of black oil paint onto it. Leaning back, she picks up a large, flat brush, squinting at the image before her.
All she has to do is make it less like Lucy. Stabbing her tool into the colour, she works away with fast, angry strokes. A swoosh here. A jab there. Shadows underneath the wide eyes. Softening the cheekbones. Narrowing the jaw. Some cadmium yellow transforms the subject’s hazel-brown hair to blonde. She moves quickly, energetically. Sweat trickles down her, soaking into the waistband of her trousers in the small of her back.
As always, when she paints, she loses track of the time. Occasionally she stares out the window of her workshop, over the water to the distant shores. She thinks for a second before returning to her creation. Tossing her brush into a large plastic milk bottle with the top sliced off, filled with white spirit, she regards the image in front of her. The power is still there.
Lucy is no longer present.
Diana nods, satisfied with the morning’s effort. Glancing at her watch, she sees that it is almost one thirty. Hours have passed, but she feels like it’s only been a short while. Frowning, she stands, swaying slightly as the room swirls around her sickeningly. She steadies herself on the stool, before crossing the studio to retrieve her stick.
When she is sure she won’t collapse, she throws open the door. She gasps, gripping the wooden frame with her free hand. Immediately outside her workshop, on the grass, is a tall stack of stones, almost five feet high. She leans out, head whipping from side to side.
A starling twitters, circling above, before darting out across the loch. Diana’s vision blurs, her mind swims. She can’t make any sense of what she’s seeing.
She steps out onto the lawn. Movement in her periphery draws her attention. She turns to face the treeline opposite, as a figure emerges. The sun’s flare blinds her, and she holds a hand up to shield her eyes. Her breathing is heavy, sweat seeps from every pore of her body, and for a sickening moment she feels like she might collapse again.
‘Why are you doing this?’ she shrieks.
As the person steps forwards, she sees it is only Lucy.
‘Diana, hi!’ she calls across the garden, a broad smile fading quickly from her face.
‘Was this you?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Do you think this is fucking funny?’ she screams.
Lucy looks confused, glancing around. She continues to walk towards the studio.
‘Why would you do this? Did somebody tell you about this?’
Lucy’s confusion turns to discomfort.
‘Diana, what’s wrong? Has someone upset you?’
Diana lurches forwards, pushing the tower. It tumbles over the lawn, making Lucy jump aside as a boulder rolls past her feet.
‘These fucking stones! Was it you?’
Lucy stares at the rocks, shaking her head.
‘No, Diana. I’ve been at the beach. I’ve only just this minute got back.’
Diana takes a few steps, tripping on a stone. Her stick clatters over the remnants of the tower as she hurtles forwards. Lucy catches her, barely managing to stop the two of them toppling over.
‘I don’t understand… why… I was… who would do this?’
Lucy steadies her, picking up her cane and handing it back to her.
‘Diana, let’s get inside. Something has clearly upset you. Why don’t we go in, and I’ll make you a cup of tea, and you can tell me what’s going on. Okay?’
Diana stares wide-eyed at Lucy’s face. For a moment, the girl looks terrified, but then her jaw softens.
She places an arm around Diana’s shoulders, guiding her across the garden towards the house.
She ushers her inside, turning to stand on the doorstep. She glances out to the woods. Her eyes flick in the direction of the scattered pebbles outside Diana’s studio, then back to the treeline. She scans the space, searching for any signs of life. Any movement. Diana watches her intently the entire time.
The leaves rustle in the gentle breeze, and the solitary cry of a lone oystercatcher echoes over the water.
Lucy steps backwards into the house. A knock at the door from the front of the house draws their attention. Diana’s eyes dart frantically in the direction of the hallway. She looks… terrified.
‘It’s okay,’ Lucy whispers. ‘I’ll see who it is. Wait here.’
Approaching the door with trepidation, she pulls it open. Mylo stands on the doorstep. Her shoulders relax as she sees him.
‘Oh hi!’ she says, raising her brows, unable to hide the surprise from her voice.
He holds something out towards Lucy.
‘I missed this out of Diana’s pile.’
She glances down at the letter in his hand.
‘Right.’ She looks over her shoulder. Diana lingers in the kitchen doorway looking afraid.
‘When… when did you arrive? Out of interest.’
He narrows his eyes.
‘Just now. Why?’
She shakes her head.
‘Doesn’t matter. I… didn’t hear the boat, that’s all.’
He motions behind him to a truck.
‘I’m not always in the boat. It depends where I’m heading. Not everywhere is accessible from the water. I was on my way somewhere and thought I should drop this in as I was passing. In case it’s anything important.’ He shrugs.
‘Thanks. I’ll make sure she gets it.’
He waits in the doorway, as if he wants to say something else, but doesn’t. His eyes burn into hers, making her feel uncomfortable. She looks away.
‘Right, well I guess I’ll be off then,’ he mumbles, kicking at the dirt beneath his feet.
‘Okay. Cheers.’
She closes the door, leaning her back against it, and listens as the truck pulls away. Frowning, she lets out a long breath. Diana stares at her from the kitchen.
‘It was only Mylo, dropping off a letter he missed from your stuff.’
She visibly relaxes, limping away out of view into the kitchen.
Lucy remains at the door for a moment, biting her lip. A strange sense of unease creeps through her. She shakes her head, telling herself she is being ridiculous, and heads down the hall to join Diana.
23
Lucy
Lucy hands Diana a cup of steaming tea, then sits beside her on the sofa. She seems to have regained some composure; she’s no longer shaking, less manic.
‘So what the heck was all that about?’
‘I’m okay. Sorry if I gave you a fright. I’ve not been feeling that well today, and I found that stone stack outside the door… it startled me a little. Must have been some kids or something.’
Lucy narrows her eyes.
‘Are you sure? We can call the police if you like.’
Diana snorts. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. It’s nothing. We mustn’t waste their time. Honestly, I am absolutely fine.’ She takes a sip of the tea, then blows on it to cool it.
‘You seemed pretty shaken.’
‘I wasn’t expecting it. Then I saw you coming out of the woods, and I got a little confused. I apologise, but it’s not anything to worry about.’
‘If you’re sure?’
‘Totally.’
Lucy stands.
‘Right. I’m going to pop upstairs to freshen up, then I
’ll be down to sort lunch.’
‘Okay, dear.’
She heads out of the lounge, turning briefly back to glance at Diana. She is sitting staring at the wall, blowing on her tea. Lucy bounds up the stairs into her room, slinging her rucksack onto the chair.
She pulls one of the glittering pebbles she found on the beach from her pocket. It slips from her fingers, clattering to the floor, and rolls under the bed. She crouches down, reaching under after it. She swings her arm around, palm flat against the floorboards. Pushing herself down more, she reaches further underneath. Her hand brushes against something jagged.
She moves it backwards and feels something sharp again beneath her fingers. She lies on her side, stretching out. Something small and hard is protruding from between two of the boards. She grabs it between her fingertips and pulls it out. She finds herself looking at a photo-card driving licence.
A pretty blonde in her late twenties stares, beaming out from the surface. Rose McNulty, the name says. The address is in Glasgow.
Lucy frowns, tucking the card into her pocket. She heads into the bathroom, splashing some cold water on her face, before spraying some deodorant and tying her hair back into a loose ponytail.
She hurries downstairs to the kitchen. Diana is standing at the window, leaning on the worktop. She stares out towards the loch; doesn’t acknowledge Lucy as she enters the room.
Lucy crosses to the fridge, taking some tomatoes and an onion out, and begins to chop them. Diana turns.
‘No lunch for me today, thanks.’
‘No problem… if you’re sure?’
‘Yep, far too hot.’
Lucy lifts the chopping board, brushing the vegetables into a pan, and places it on the stove. As it simmers, she faces Diana.
‘Do you know a Rose McNulty?’
Diana whirls around, quick as a flash.
‘Excuse me?’
Lucy pulls the driver’s licence from her pocket, crossing to Diana at the window. She hands it to her.
‘I found this under my bed.’
Diana relaxes. She doesn’t even seem to look at the card.
‘Nope, no idea. Must have been the previous owner.’
She gives it back to Lucy.
‘Oh. Okay. Do you think I should hand it in to someone?’
‘I wouldn’t bother. I’ve been here for years. They’ll have a replacement by now. I’d just throw it away.’
‘Right.’ Lucy frowns, opening a cupboard beneath the sink. She tosses the photo card into the bin, along with the onion peelings and tomato ends, letting the door shut. She turns to see Diana hobbling out into the hall.
Returning to the stove, she finishes the soup, before liquidising it to a sloppy gruel for Richard. She mixes in a little cream to cool it down, then heads out to his room. As she approaches the window, she sees Diana crossing the garden. Lucy watches her. She walks to the stones outside her studio, pushing a few of them around with her foot. She looks over her shoulder out to the woods, then towards the cottage, shaking her head.
Lucy isn’t sure why, but she steps out of view, glancing down at Richard. Some sort of gut instinct telling her to hide. She shakes her head, feeling ridiculous.
She peeks round the edge of the window, in time to see Diana lock the outbuilding, and hobble back to the house.
24
Lucy
Early the following week, a man comes to sort the hall flooring. Diana tells Lucy on the Tuesday evening that she can take the next day off, as the guy will be sanding and varnishing the boards, so he’ll need her out of the house.
Lucy retrieves a scrap of paper from her room, which she’d copied Mylo’s number down onto after he’d scribbled it on the back of her hand. She heads to the antiquated telephone on the small table in the lounge, pushing the dial around, one digit at a time. It rings a few times before he answers.
He seems surprised to hear from her.
Lucy explains that she has found herself to be at an unexpected loose end tomorrow, and if he’s free, she would love to take him up on his offer of a boat trip. She hears him rummaging around. Like he’s turning pages in a book, possibly checking his diary. Eventually he tells her he’s free, and they arrange to meet. He says he’ll pick her up at nine. Before Lucy can tell him she’s looking forward to it, he hangs up. She shakes her head, staring at the receiver.
The next morning, she throws a few things into a bag and heads down the stairs. The workman is already there, the noise from his sander is deafening, and she’s glad she won’t be around to hear it all day. She stops briefly at the bottom, and watches as the man rubs at the dark stain on the floorboards, taking the wood back down to its original colour.
She continues through to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. As she steps into the garden, Diana is sitting at the table under the willow tree, sipping a steaming cup of black coffee. Her eyes are narrowed, dark circles beneath them. Her hands tremble as she holds the mug to her mouth, blowing on it. Richard is in his wheelchair beside her. Lucy frowns, remembering how Diana had told her she can’t manage the chair, but decides not to mention it.
The sky had been overcast when she first woke, but it’s beginning to clear now. The day is warm, muggy. Perfect day to be out on the water, Lucy thinks.
‘Morning!’ she chirps as she approaches.
Diana looks at her but doesn’t say anything. Lucy is fiddling with the buckles of her rucksack. Diana stares.
‘Where are you off to?’ Her voice is croaky, dry. She sounds how she looks.
‘Mylo is taking me out on his boat for the day. I’m not really sure where.’
Diana blinks a few times, gulping a mouthful of coffee as she considers what to say.
‘That’s nice,’ she says, sounding far from pleased. ‘Good that he’s moving on.’
Lucy cocks her head.
‘Moving on?’
‘Yes. I think it’s time. He’s… struggled.’
‘With his father dying?’
Diana stares at her.
‘Oh… you don’t know?’
‘Know what?’
‘Well, it’s not really my place to say. I’m sure he’ll tell you if he wants to. I’ve probably said too much already.’
Lucy rolls her eyes, exhaling. Diana smiles victoriously behind her coffee cup, teeth glinting like a shark.
The familiar hum of Mylo’s boat draws into her ears. As he approaches, Diana looks away, pretending not to have seen him. Lucy steps out onto the pier, catching Mylo’s line as he throws it. She ties it to a cleat. He leaves the engine running as he jumps ashore.
He strolls towards her. Today he wears a navy-and-white striped T-shirt, and a pair of ripped jeans, some dirty white canvas Converse on his feet.
‘Are you ready?’
‘Sure am.’
‘Hello, Diana,’ he calls across the garden.
She doesn’t respond.
He raises his eyebrows at Lucy, who shakes her head.
‘Don’t ask.’
She stands on the edge of the pier, staring down into the rippling blue water. She’s constantly amazed by the different colours the loch appears to be at various times of day and in changing light. The last of the cloud dissipates and the sun batters down on her from a clear cyan sky.
‘I’m almost tempted to jump in for a swim,’ she says without looking at Mylo.
‘I wouldn’t.’
‘No?’
‘This pier is quite long. We’re pretty far out. It’s deep here. That water will be freezing. Most people would last a few minutes at best. It’s the panic when your body hits the cold. Your instant reaction is to gasp. That’s the mistake everybody makes, because you usually take in a lungful of loch then as well. That’s the beginning of the end…’
He looks at Lucy. She stares, horrified, back towards him. ‘I’m sorry! I grew up around here, so this was drummed into me as a kid. Ignore me.’
He climbs aboard, holding out a hand to help her ac
ross. She steps on, then leans down to untie the rope, casting them off. As the boat speeds away, Lucy glances over her shoulder. Diana is standing watching them intently.
‘How you getting on? Must be nice to have a day off,’ he shouts over the noise of the engine.
‘Yeah. It’s an unexpected surprise.’
‘Getting on okay with her?’
Lucy shrugs.
‘She’s very up and down. I never know where I am with her. One minute I feel like she wants to be my best friend, the next it’s like she hates my guts.’
He smirks.
‘I think she’s more than a little socially awkward. That’s what comes from living out here all by yourself for so long. Well… she’s not alone… but… you know.’ He looks embarrassed. Lucy holds up her hands and smiles.
‘It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about upsetting me. I’m really not that PC.’
She watches as the dark water whizzes by. A gull follows above their heads, but when it realises there is no food, it banks off to one side, landing on the surface gracefully.
‘So how come you’re not needed today?’
‘She’s having some work carried out in the house. I think she wanted me out of the way really.’
‘About time. She never gets anything done. It’s a pure shame. That cottage will collapse around her if she’s not careful.’ Disdain laces his words.
‘I wouldn’t get too excited. It’s nothing major. She’s only having the hall floor sanded to get rid of that stain by the stairs.’
Mylo’s eyes dart towards her, then away. His mouth twitches, but he remains quiet. He chews his bottom lip.