The Lights Under the Lake

by Sophie Cleverly

  When I woke again, the sky I glimpsed through the curtains was bright but grey. No one mentioned the bath incident, and I began to wonder if I’d dreamt it. But the poker was lying on the floor next to our bed, and when I peered into the cast-iron tub, I could see pieces of leaf still swimming in the bottom.

  I tried to forget about it as we went downstairs for breakfast. Everything seemed normal: Miss Bowler was bellowing at Anna for dropping the kippers, the prefects were bickering about something, and the hotel staff were happily bustling around with jugs of milk and racks of toast.

  But things took an even stranger turn when we were walking back up to the room and heard someone shriek.

  Scarlet and I ran to the reception area to find Mrs Rudge standing over the desk with her hands clamped over her mouth. There was a bulging, waterlogged book on the desk. It looked ancient, falling to pieces, and it was dripping on to the carpet.

  “Are you all right, Miss?” I asked, hurrying over.

  Her eyes darted up at us, and she seemed to finally register that we were there. I was close enough to read the peeling gold lettering on the front of the volume – it was a prayer book.

  The chill from the previous night washed over me again, and it brought with it everything that Bob Owens had told us. The village. The lake. The flooding.

  A picture swam into my head. The church, under the water, lake weeds blowing silently in the current. Silent pews with nothing but fish swimming around them. A silent altar with a golden cross, with candlesticks …

  And there would be prayer books. Of course there would.

  Mrs Rudge eventually spoke. “Were you looking for something, girls?” she said flatly, her eyes giving nothing away.

  “We heard you scream,” said Scarlet. “We thought something was wrong.”

  “You were mistaken,” said Mrs Rudge, only the slightest quaver in her voice. “Everything is quite all right.”

  “But … that?” I said, waving at the sodden book.

  The hotel owner blinked down at it as if she’d never seen it before in her life. “I don’t …” She seemed to panic for a second, but then she plastered a smile on to her face, like this was all a big joke that we hadn’t quite understood. “Oh, well, it’s mine. It … was mine when I was a child. I just spilt some water on it, that’s all.”

  I didn’t point out that there was no cup or bucket nearby, nothing she could possibly have spilt. She was obviously hiding her horror, and I wanted to know why.

  But, as always, Scarlet was quicker to say something than me. “Does this have anything to do with the golden cross from the other night?”

  Mrs Rudge’s eyes went wide. “I … I had a very religious upbringing,” she said, and before we could ask anything else, she had snapped up the wet book and hurried away to the back room.

  Scarlet shrugged and headed towards to the corridor.

  “Something is very wrong here,” I said, following and tugging at her sleeve. “She’s lying, isn’t she?”

  “If she’s not lying,” said Scarlet, “then I’m the Queen of Sheba.”

  I tried to think about what it all meant. Because from where I was standing, it seemed like my twin’s crazy theory was right, and that items from the sunken church were mysteriously appearing at the hotel. And for some reason, the Rudges were trying to pretend it wasn’t happening.

  And apart from that … what about the bath filling with water? And what had happened to our room, not to mention people’s possessions being rifled through and jewellery vanishing? Was it even possible that a vengeful spirit, or even a whole host of the things, was targeting the Shady Pines?

  That thought scared me, but I still wasn’t sure if I believed it. What was far more likely, and perhaps more worrying, was that this was all the doing of a person. And Scarlet and I knew very well just how dangerous the wrong people could be.

  That day’s activity, Mrs Knight informed us, was boating on the lake. The hotel apparently owned a little fleet of rowing boats that were left floating out on the water beside the jetty. And this time, Miss Bowler was in charge. Mrs Knight said that she was going to stay back at the hotel and keep an eye on things, and I was grateful to hear it.

  We trekked to the lakeside, past a wooden hut and down beside the moored boats, and I yawned and blinked in the sunlight that was slowly burning through the iron clouds. Miss Bowler was dragging a heavy suitcase along behind her.

  I didn’t like water much. I wasn’t the best swimmer, and neither did I have many good memories surrounding it.

  Scarlet wasn’t a fan either. “They’re going to have to pay me to get in a boat,” she muttered.

  We lined up on the shore, pebbles crunching underfoot. I took a few steps towards the lake, but the water lapped at my feet like it was trying to pull me in, and I jumped back.

  Ariadne was snapping photographs of the lake, with the tower on the other side a huge silhouette on the landscape. It didn’t take long for Miss Bowler to come marching over.

  “Flitworth!” she barked. “Are you planning on taking that device in a boat?”

  “Yes, Miss.” Ariadne’s mousy eyes blinked innocently.

  I could tell Miss Bowler hadn’t expected her to say yes. “I— Well,” she spluttered. “Don’t. Leave it on the shore.”

  Ariadne looked horrified. “What if it gets stolen?”

  “Who’s going to steal it out here?” Miss Bowler spread her arms out wide and slowly turned from side to side. “A sheep?”

  I saw Cassandra sniggering at that, but I didn’t think it was so funny. After all, someone had been stealing things. Though that had been inside the hotel …

  “I can’t just leave it out here,” said Ariadne as Miss Bowler was distracted by Anna trying to catch a fish. “Daddy will kill me if anything happens to it.”

  “We’re in broad daylight,” Scarlet pointed out. “If you leave it right here, we’ll be able to see if anyone goes near it.”

  “I suppose.” Ariadne reluctantly laid down the camera, taking a long time to let go of the strap.

  Having chased Anna back into line, Miss Bowler stood in front of us and looked us up and down as if she were a drill sergeant. “Right, you bunch of wimps! You’re in my territory now!” She grinned; a fairly horrible sight. “In a moment, you’ll all get back into your groups. Then you’ll head in there –” she pointed to the hut – “and get changed into these.”

  She flipped open the suitcase, and revealed a pile of Rookwood’s hideous swimming costumes.

  “Oh joy,” Scarlet muttered. I shuddered at the thought of putting one of those horrible things on again.

  “Next,” the swimming teacher continued, “you will each get in a boat. We’ll all row out over there.” She swivelled like a shot-putter and pointed to the murky surface of the lake. “And then you’ll get swimming!”

  “Miss,” said Nadia, her arms folded in her usual indignation, “we can’t go in there. It’s dirty. There’s probably fish and things.” She wrinkled her nose.

  Miss Bowler wasn’t having any of it. “Nonsense, Sayani. It’s nature. Get used to it.” She watched as we reluctantly got back into our groups from the other day, the four of us marshalled by Elsie, who looked as happy about it as ever.

  “Right!” Miss Bowler clapped her hands so loudly I half expected the mountains to shake around us. “Into the hut!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  SCARLET

  wrestled with the ugly swimming costume, which I could have sworn was still damp.

  “I was hoping I’d never have to put one of these on ever again,” Ivy said with a grimace.

  The changing hut was bare, with nothing inside but benches and a heap of threadbare towels. I doubted the hotel guests went swimming very often.

  “I bet there’s a monster in there,” said Ariadne. She was attempting a balancing act of pulling on her costume under a dangling towel. “I’m sure I’ve heard of it.”

  “You’re thinking of Loch Ness,” Ivy poi
nted out.

  “And besides,” I said, trying to pin my hair up over my head, “how would it have got here? This lake is practically new. They poured water on a village.”

  “You never know with monsters,” Ariadne said darkly.

  I plonked myself down on one of the benches and looked around. The prefects had all pulled their costumes on with ease, and made them look as if they were somehow glamorous and not itchy pieces of nonsense. And huddled in one corner, still in her normal clothes, was Rose.

  Elsie slipped past me. “Your crazy girl is broken,” she whispered loudly, tilting her head. I nearly kicked her, but she was too fast – she was already out of the hut before I could do it.

  Glaring after her, I went over to the corner and crouched down. “Rose? Is something wrong?”

  She started to shake her head, and then a moment later slowly nodded.

  “You don’t want to get changed? I don’t blame you. These things are nasty.” I tugged at the old, sagging wool. I imagined our Aunt Sara would wear something glamorous and flowery made of new nylon, and here we were dressed like sacks.

  Rose shook her head again, and then finally she said: “Can’t swim.” There was fear in her eyes.

  I took hold of her arm. “Don’t worry about it. You can just sit in the boat. I’ll tell Miss Bowler, shall I?”

  She just bit her lip in response and stared at the floor. I decided to take that as a yes.

  Scrambling back up again, I pushed past some of the other girls (causing a small chorus of “Watch where you’re going!”) and stepped out of the hut. It was warm outside, but I still didn’t think it was warm enough to only be wearing a bathing suit. Miss Bowler was standing by the door as she waited for everyone to change.

  “Miss,” I tugged on her sleeve, “Rose can’t swim. Can she just sit in the boat?”

  “Pah! There’s no such thing as can’t!” Miss Bowler thundered.

  I frowned at her. “I really don’t think she can, Miss. She’s scared to death. She could drown.”

  Miss Bowler must have noticed my emphasis, because some of the colour drained from her face. The school was trying to recover from the terrible reputation that our previous headteachers had given it, and another drowned student would really not look good in the newspapers.

  “None of your cheek,” she said. “Well, fine.” She raised a warning finger. “But she’d better put some rowing in.”

  It wasn’t long before we were back on the shore in our group – or mostly in our group, because Elsie was avoiding standing near us as much as possible.

  “Right!” Miss Bowler blew her whistle, the shrill sound piercing into my ears. Rose jumped. “Choose your boat, one group at a time!”

  I was in front, so I took charge and hopped up on to the jetty, the others following close behind me. The wet planks were covered in algae and they wobbled as I walked over them.

  All the rowing boats were fairly similar, made of curved wood with a pair of oars in the middle. They all looked like they’d been sitting on that lake for years, through all weathers, just waiting for someone to find them. They had optimistic names painted on the side, though they were peeling and hard to read. I wanted to choose one that spoke to me. Serenity. Hope. Skylark. One that either said Charity or Chastity. One of them looked like it said Cabbage, and I couldn’t quite figure out what that was meant to be.

  But I went past all of these, and I picked the boat that was named Adventure.

  Unfortunately the Adventure didn’t quite look like it would live up to its name. There was a small crack in the hull and the benches were worn in the middle. It wobbled as I climbed into it, and the smell of damp wood hit my nose.

  Ivy looked down at me from the jetty. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice wobbling almost as much as the boat.

  “Not one bit,” I grinned.

  With a sigh, Ivy climbed in beside me and sat down heavily on the bench at the back. Ariadne followed, with a few anxious glances around at where she’d left her precious camera on the shore. Then came Rose, still wearing all her clothes and hugging herself.

  “It’s all right,” Ivy said, holding out a hand to her and helping her climb in. But Rose didn’t seem at all reassured. She sat down and clung to the bench so tightly that her knuckles went white.

  “Where’s the harpy?” I asked, looking around. I wasn’t at all surprised to see that Elsie was still gossiping on the shore.

  “Sparks!” Miss Bowler barked. “Get in your group!”

  “Sorry, Miss!” said Elsie, hurrying over. I half hoped she might slip on the jetty, but we had no such luck. She untied the boat from the post it was anchored to and then thudded into it, sending it rocking and splashing water over the sides.

  “Watch it!” I snapped at her. Rose looked like she was going to be sick.

  Elsie ignored me and simply sat in the front, lying back and spreading her arms out. “What are you waiting for?” she said, with a smirk. “Start rowing.”

  I glared at her. “Who died and made you queen of the boat?”

  “I’m the prefect; you do what I say.” Elsie put her feet up on the middle bench, between me and Ivy. Ugh.

  Ivy leant over and whispered: “Just pretend she isn’t here.”

  Fine, I thought. I can do that.

  I’d never rowed anything before, but I had a vague idea of how it worked. I grabbed hold of one of the oars, while Ivy took the other. We began pulling on them, pushing the water out of the way as the boat juddered into action.

  In the distance, the surface of the lake was as grey as the sky. Close up, you could see the bottom – stones and weeds and flickers of tiny fish. I thought for a second about the village that lay down there somewhere, and wondered if you could swim to it. I imagined myself tumbling down through the buildings, lungs full of water, skeletal hands reaching up from below to pull me down …

  “Scarlet,” Ivy moaned. “We’re going round in circles!”

  “Sorry,” I muttered, and started rowing properly again. I tried to ignore the smug expression on Elsie’s face.

  Our boats were soon out in the middle of the glassy lake, forming a circle as the wind ruffled our hair. The final boat was headed up by Miss Bowler. Ariadne was holding her fingers out to make a rectangle, framing the lake for imaginary photographs. Rose still hadn’t looked up.

  Miss Bowler cupped her hands to her mouth, as if she needed any help boosting her volume. “RIGHT! FIRST SWIMMERS IN!”

  I gulped and looked at Ivy. Given who we were with, that was probably us. We stood up together, trying very hard not to rock the boat. Predictably, Elsie started trying to cause us as much difficulty as possible. She shuffled from side to side, making the boat sway awkwardly in the water.

  “Will you stop that?” I demanded.

  “Miss Bowler said to get in,” said Elsie. “So you’re going.”

  I’ll show her, I thought. I’ll show everyone. Taking a deep breath and squeezing my eyes shut, I leapt up in the air and plummeted into the icy water.

  It hit me in a rush, then I kicked my legs until I bobbed up to the surface again, gasping in air. “Cold!” I yelled.

  Ivy and I had learnt to swim in the brook near our house in hot summers, but this was different. The lake water was colder, for one, and we were much further from shore. But my body took over and soon I was swimming in loops round the boat.

  Seeing that I hadn’t drowned or been eaten by anything, others started to jump in too. I looked up to see Ivy standing in the boat, trying hard not to tip it over.

  “Do it!” I shouted at her, treading water with a big grin on my face. “It’s not so bad!”

  She didn’t look convinced, but seeing everyone else dropping over the sides of their boats seemed to encourage her. She held her nose and jumped into the water beside me with a huge splash.

  I laughed, but I noticed the boat was still rocking and Rose was still huddled up nervously, with her collar hiding the chain of her necklace.
/>   “Someone needs to stay in the boat to make sure it doesn’t float away,” said Ariadne as Ivy came to the surface, shivering.

  “That’ll be me, then,” said Elsie. “Go on, you two.”

  “Rose can’t swim,” said Ariadne.

  “Oh, really?” said Elsie. I didn’t like the expression on her face one bit. She stood up, the boat swaying with her movements, and clambered over to where Rose sat. “Maybe it’s time you tried,” she said. And in one swift movement, she’d pushed Rose straight into the water.

  Chapter Nineteen

  IVY

  ose screamed as she fell. The sound pierced my ears. Without even thinking, forgetting that I even had any fear, I dived after her.

  I peeled my eyes open and saw her sinking, the sight strange and rippled by the water. Her mouth was open, still screaming wordlessly, and then she started kicking and thrashing about.

  I knew I had only moments to reach her.

  For a few horrible seconds, I thought I wasn’t going to make it – that she was just going to keep tumbling into the lake forever. But I grabbed her, then suddenly realised that Scarlet was beside me, her hair flowing around her face. Together we took hold of Rose and kicked upwards as hard as we could.

  We hefted Rose out of the water, and I felt her weight disappear from my arms. As we surfaced, drinking in the air, I heard her gasping and choking.

  I pushed my wet hair out of my eyes, and blinked them dry, to see that there was now another boat beside us. Miss Bowler had dragged Rose up into it.

  “Are you all right?” she was saying. “Speak up, girl!”

  Rose didn’t speak up at the best of times, and I couldn’t imagine that she was going to when she had a mouthful of water. But her eyes were open, and she was breathing, although it was in stuttering gulps. She nodded slowly.

  I bobbed in the water, trying to keep my muscles moving so that I wouldn’t freeze.

  Scarlet was doing the same, and she looked furious. “Miss! Elsie pushed her in!”

  “I didn’t,” said Elsie indignantly.