Death in Cold Waters

by Tannis Laidlaw

  “Any chance you can pop over now? I’m due to catch a plane later today.”

  Jade looked at her history books spread over her room. Any excuse. “Yeah, I can come.” She paused, hoping he’d say he’d come fetch her, but he didn’t. “I’ll bike over. Be there in fifteen minutes or so.”

  “You’re a poppet, Jade. See you shortly.”

  She clicked off her phone and hastily changed into shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. It was hot out. Biking over to the Dymocks was much better, much, much better than sweltering in her room going over and over stuff. Besides, she could put her ear buds in and review the recordings she’d made earlier. Studying while cycling. See where she faltered then concentrate on that when she got back home. It could work.

  Jade took the more direct route rather than the longer but more scenic tow path route. She’d remembered to pull on a hat, too. Reviewing three chapters of their history text later, not much over her estimated fifteen minutes, she leaned her bike against the low wall in front of the Dymocks’ house. She knocked.

  “There you are,” Donald said. “I really appreciate this, Jade.”

  She grinned at him. He was such a lovely dad. Freya didn’t appreciate him as much as she did. He was sort of a second father to her, she’d always thought.

  Jade followed Donald up to Freya’s room. He handed her the list.

  “You figure out what she wants and I’ll pack them into the case,” he said. “First, three hoodies? She owns some hoodies?”

  Jade laughed and opened up the wardrobe. “Which colours?”

  “Um, black, navy blue and denim.” He looked up. “Denim is a fabric, not a colour.”

  “It’s a colour, Donald. This colour.” She grabbed a dull blue marl hoodie and gave it to him, then the other two.

  “Okay. Now two swimming cozzies.”

  “Got them,” Jade said, with two bikinis in her hand.

  “She doesn’t say which two.”

  “Her bikinis, for sure.”

  “Maybe I’d better take all three,” Donald said. “They’re little enough to pack.”

  “No need. She’d want the two bikinis. Not the swim squad one piece. It’s too small for her anyhow.”

  “Okay. Now, jeans – blue, black and cut-offs.”

  Jade opened the bottom drawer of the chest of drawers. “These are her favourites,” she said as she grabbed two pairs of jeans, leaving several others. She opened the shorts drawer and pulled out the cut-offs.

  And so they worked through the list. It became hotter and hotter as the westerly sunshine flooded the bedroom.

  “What a wonderful friend you are,” Donald said. “And such a pretty one, too.” He smiled at her.

  She could feel herself redden. Wonderful, yes. Pretty, not so much. But she felt hugely complimented that such a good looking teacher would say she was pretty, even if it had been just Freya’s father. What a great dad Donald was. She wished her dad would say nice things to her about something. Anything.

  “That’s it, Jade. Thank you so very much. Hey, how about a little dip in our pool to cool off before biking home? You deserve it.”

  Jade hesitated.

  “Look, wear the cozzie Freya didn’t want. Maybe too small for her but not for you.”

  “Just a quick dip, thanks, Donald. Yeah, the swim squad one should fit me. Not that I’d want to be seen in it.” She laughed and he laughed, too.

  After he left, she quickly shed her clothes and pulled on the ugly swimming costume. For someone with such small boobs, she would never have picked a costume that squished her to nothing like this one did. But she was hot and a swim would be just the thing. She wrapped a towel she found in the bathroom around her and headed to the back garden.

  To her surprise, Donald was in the pool.

  “Come on in! The water’s lovely,” he said.

  She dropped the towel at the water’s edge and dived in. The pool was so small, her hands touched the other side before she popped up her head.

  “Come down to this end,” he called.

  She did, basking in being the centre of his attention.

  “Race you,” Donald said with some glee. “One, two, three!”

  They both powered down the pool to the opposite end. His hand brushed against her body. Twice. She kicked to put a bit of space between them.

  “I won!” he said. “Try again?”

  She nodded, surprised at his playfulness, and was ready for his count to three this time.

  They splashed to the other end of the pool, ending up tangled together as they hit the edge of the pool. Jade felt herself being pushed beneath the surface. She flailed to get out from under, her hand inadvertently contacting Donald’s body.

  “Sorry,” Jade said automatically as she surfaced. Appalled. Her arm had slid down his front, her hand touching … no. Couldn’t be. He was Freya’s father. But he had been hard. Like a boy on the dance floor.

  Donald’s face was only inches from hers. He reached out, put his arms around her and they both sank. Spluttering, they surfaced and Donald grinned at her. “Isn’t this fun!”

  Shit.

  He wrapped his arms around her tighter this time and they both sank again. Jade could feel him pushed against her. He must not care. Want her to know.

  “Please, Donald,” she gasped when they rose to the surface and before he pulled her down under the water once more. She struggled. His face too close to hers, his hands all over her. She finally got one leg up, her foot on the wall of the pool, her knee bent. She’d only have one shot if this was going to work. As Donald moved into her spread legs, she pushed against the pool wall with all her might and shot out of his arms like toothpaste from a tube.

  She scrambled out of the pool, grabbed the towel and ran like a gazelle. She hopped on her bike and took off as fast as she could go. She glanced back at the house. She spotted him as she was turning the corner. Would he come after her? Her heart pounded. He had a car. He could be onto her in moments.

  She was headed towards the Thames – the towpath – but she wouldn’t take a direct route. It couldn’t be the usual way. She wove her way through back streets, looking behind her every time she turned a corner. She needed to get close enough to recognise a tiny footpath which led over the grass and down to the towpath. On her bike, she’d be able to whizz down to the level of the river. Where no cars were allowed.

  She raced along yet another street, a cross street and another suburban street to get ever closer to the river. Finally, at full tilt, she crossed the street parallel to the water, jumping over the edging of the road to the tiny winding footpath she and Freya used to get them down to the towpath and she was soon flying down the slope. She screeched to a stop on the path. Glanced back up the slope. No Donald.

  She wrapped the towel more securely around her middle and slowly pedalled along, catching up to a group, a couple of kids on little bikes cycling ahead of two women. She slowed. Had to catch her breath.

  “Have you had a swim in the Thames?” one of the women asked, disbelieving but curious.

  “Not a chance. Just a friend’s swimming pool,” Jade answered with a smile she forced onto her face. “I’ve been cycling flat out. Time to take it easy.” She passed the two children to distance herself slightly but kept a steady distance just ahead of them. She glanced up at the top of the rise. Still no Donald. She was not in a hurry now. Besides, safely in numbers.

  And it gave her time to think. Could she be misinterpreting? But a guy’s hard-on is a guy’s hard-on. Every girl knew what it felt like. Even every virgin. Not that she was still virginal, but she’d known what it felt like to be clutched tightly on the dance floor from the time she was thirteen or so. She’d had one hand or the other pushed downward too often not to be totally sure what she’d felt.

  Donald. The thought made her want to puke.

  At the spot she had to leave the towpath, she sped up again, constantly checking behind her for Donald’s car. She got a second wind. Only about fou
r minutes to go.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Maddie looked over at David Player. They were seated in the corridor outside Bettina Rossmore’s office on two chairs obviously put there for the purpose.

  “Same rules as before, Madeleine. I won’t answer any questions put to you by either Bettina or Romania. I will only contribute if you’re getting into hot water within my area – the most likely will be to request some time alone with you. Of course in the meeting, you can ask me anything or defer to me. You’re in charge.”

  Maddie nodded. She liked how he made it so clear she was at the helm. Enabling. For all his youth, David Player knew what he was doing.

  A long ten minutes later, they were ushered into the office. Bettina was in one easy chair and Romania in a second placed in front of a coffee table. David and Maddie took the couch opposite. Maddie didn’t even try to return Bettina’s smile. The arrangement presumably was to give the impression of a friendly-friendly conversation, but it really looked like a case of ‘us against them’. It would have been better if they’d been spaced evenly around a table. She introduced David to Romania.

  “Surely this doesn’t involve the union,” Romania said to Bettina.

  “It’s Madeleine’s right to have it present at any of these meetings. This young man has been a help already.” She turned to David. “Welcome, Mr Player.”

  “David,” he said pleasantly.

  Bettina sat forward. “I’ve gone over and over all the personnel regulations for our service, both with my supervisor and Human Relations. I have been appointed the Deciding Officer in this case,” she said in a slightly louder voice. “To let you know in the interests of transparency, Ms Carlisle – Romania – is currently being instructed in the skills of managerial supervision as she is new to this role. The regulations are quite clear what happens next. In instances like this, we have a protocol that must be followed.” She flicked her eyes from one to the other.

  Maddie was mollified although still wary. So far, it didn’t seem that Bettina was favouring Romania. Nor her either, of course. But Romania undergoing management training was good. Otherwise, neutral was good. Probably good.

  “Madeleine,” Bettina said, turning to her, “you will be put on supervision for a four month period starting on your return to work. Romania will hold a supervisory meeting with you on a weekly basis setting out goals for the next week and going over the goals from the previous week.”

  Maddie felt herself flush. Supervision?

  “Romania will then meet with me,” Bettina said, “and we will go over each meeting in some detail, including how you are doing and what is appropriate for the next set of goals.”

  Maddie frowned, started to speak.

  Bettina held up a hand. “We will discuss it all once I’ve outlined the entire package.”

  Maddie sat back, controlling her breathing. Once a week with Romania? Then it hit her. Those last few weeks of work, she had been called into far more supervisory meetings than one a week. This would be a reduction. And the weekly supervision meeting would be analysed by Bettina each time.

  “I presume you’ll have some sort of contact with Mr … with David each week as well. Is that so, David?”

  “I’m willing to comply with any and all regulations,” he said a tad stiffly.

  “I’m happy to have David involved,” Maddie said with a quick glance at him. “I presume if there is anything to complain about, he’ll advise me to … to what, David?”

  “To contact the Deciding Officer, who is Bettina in this case.”

  Bettina beamed, clasping her hands in front of her. “We can get through this. We can learn to work together.” She turned to Maddie. “You wanted to comment?”

  “Just to go over it all, thanks. So, Romania and I have a meeting to set goals for the week. The next week, we go over how I have achieved those goals and amend them for the coming week. That’s it?”

  “Essentially.” She turned to Romania. “You have a comment?”

  “Are you saying that I have a weekly meeting with you as well? That’s a lot of meeting time to squeeze into my busy schedule. Two meetings about Madeleine’s performance. As well as the managerial training.”

  “Two meetings to discuss both your performance and Madeleine’s,” Bettina said.

  It was Romania’s turn to flush.

  “If this meeting is concluded, I’d like a private word,” Romania said to Bettina.

  “Fine,” Bettina said as she nodded to David and Maddie with a small tight smile. They walked out, closing the door behind them.

  Sounds of a rising voice could be heard through the closed door. They glanced at each other.

  “Hey,” David said and gave Maddie a high five.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Maddie was barely home from the Probation Service hearing when she heard a bicycle crash down onto the back steps.

  “Oh, there you are,” Maddie said when Jade rushed in through the kitchen door. “I’ve been ringing you.”

  Jade took one horrified glance at her mother and raced upstairs, the towel dropping to the floor revealing what she was wearing. Maddie, concerned at the look on her daughter’s face, and noticing her odd attire, walked up after her. She picked up the damp towel and stood for a moment at the door to Jade’s room, looking in. Jade was now curled in the foetal potion on her bed, still clad in the unusual swimsuit. Maddie felt her mouth go dry. What had happened? She walked in and put the towel – not one of theirs – on the end of Jade’s bed.

  “Something’s wrong, isn’t it, Jade? Very wrong.” She held her breath. Jade, as a teenager, had not been forthcoming. Yet, when she was little, she’d been talkative and continually open.

  At first Jade didn’t move. She slowly nodded and took a deep and shuddering breath.

  Maddie sat on the edge of the bed and reached over to stroke Jade’s back.

  “Borrowed swimming costume, borrowed towel. And you’re upset.” Maddie didn’t dare push too hard. “I’ll go put the kettle on. Stay here. I’ll bring it up.”

  She was terrified she’d destroy any potential of meeting Jade half way about whatever had frightened her so badly. As she waited for the kettle to boil, the tea things ready when it did, Maddie ran through the possibilities. Not an argument with Freya – she was in New York. No boyfriend at the moment and none of the signs of Jade having a crush on some boy either. Certainly nothing about school – her exams were going well and her studying, erratic and too dependent upon last minute cramming, was producing results, as usual. And the strange swimming costume? Jade, and all of her friends, had worn nothing but bikinis for years.

  Who had a pool? The Hampton Pool was biking distance taking the Bushy Park route, but Jade would not have been seen dead in that costume at a public pool. Her friend Kim out in Esher had a pool, but that was not within biking distance. Freya had a pool. But she was … oh. Maybe she’d returned unexpectedly. Didn’t Freya swim with the school team a couple of years ago?

  Maddie made their mugs of tea and went back upstairs. Jade had not moved. She put the mugs on the bedside table and once again perched on the side of her daughter’s bed. She kept her voice soft. “Freya’s old swimming costume from the swim team, right? You’ve been over there?”

  Jade turned an anguished face to her mother and reached for a hug.

  With huge relief, Maddie gathered Jade into her arms and stoked her hair. It had been a long time. The last time Jade had hugged her like this was years ago. “Tell me,” she murmured into Jade’s ear.

  “Donald,” Jade whispered.

  Maddie stifled a gasp.

  Jade proceeded to tell her increasingly dismayed mother what had happened. “I thought I was going to drown,” she wailed. “And he was, like hot … for me!” She sobbed in her mother’s arms.

  Jade, who’d always thought Donald was an ideal dad.

  Jade, who looked years younger than her age.

  Donald, pushing someone under water and saying it was
fun.

  Donald, an aroused, muscular man who looked like a farmer from the veldt….

  Maddie was frightened for her daughter. Extremely frightened. And increasingly angry.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Maddie helped her daughter shower and wrapped her in a big fluffy towel afterwards. Something about cleansing yourself. Being clean. Being supported. She grabbed jeans and a t-shirt for Jade to wear, back to Goth black, but Maddie couldn’t find anything else.

  Jade wanted her phone back, needed it. She’d prepared a series of recordings she was using for her exam preparation and she was adamant they had to go and get it. And pick up the clothes she worn earlier.

  She broke down into tears at her own internal conflict. “I want to get them. But I don’t want to see Donald again. I can’t see him again,” she said to her mother in some distress. “I just can’t. Don’t make me, Mum.”

  “I have no intension of making you, darling girl. Should I go to collect them? Or would that make it worse?”

  “No. No, you don’t have to. Really.” She sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes just like she used to do when a small child. “I’ll do it. But maybe you could give me a ride.”

  “Of course,” Maddie murmured, well aware of her role as just being there. “Let’s plan it out. All the ‘what ifs’.”

  Jade nodded. “You drive me. You park outside the door. Even if someone else is there, you stay close, okay?”

  “Double park if necessary. Agreed.”

  They made a plan. Maddie would accompany Jade to the door. She’d engage Donald in conversation. As if she had not been told what had happened between them earlier. Jade would hurry upstairs and grab her gear. If Donald insisted on going upstairs with her, Maddie would tag along as well. It was as good a plan as any.

  The last thing Maddie wanted to do was to have to see Donald Dymock. But needs must and that was all there was to it. She had no intention of letting Jade go alone.