The Blue Pool

by Siobhan MacDonald

  “We shouldn’t have left her, Mum. We just shouldn’t have left Sarah alone back there.”

  Her mother reached out for her hand and her father squeezed her shoulder.

  “I can’t eat this, Mum, I’m sorry,” she stretched over to her handbag reaching for her cigarettes.

  “Ruth…” her mother’s voice rose faintly in protest. Smoking was not allowed in the kitchen.

  “Leave her be, Ann. Leave her be,” said her dad. “Today isn’t a day for rules.”

  After only a few drags on her cigarette, Ruth went upstairs to lie on her bed. She needed to be alone. Up until now, failing a few exams was the worst disaster that could befall her, or so she thought. But the last few days had proven her wrong. Ruth felt like she’d been taken hostage in a horror movie.

  Her mind started to race. Sarah never made her train. But someone, somewhere, knew where Sarah was. Someone had picked her up. More than one person, maybe. Sarah could be held captive somewhere. And whoever it was, didn’t want a ransom – there hadn’t been any demands. Their interest in Sarah was not financial. For Ruth, that was infinitely worse.

  Ruth thought back to Monday. It would have been bleak and quiet after she and Kathy had gone. Sarah would have been listening to the distant barking of dogs, the strange sounds and movements in the mist, the hidden gulls shrieking in the sky. It must have been lonely. How long was it before someone stopped? An hour? Half an hour? Five minutes?

  Who had picked Sarah up? Had she come across those cavers from the north of Ireland again that day? Think about it. There was no way she would willingly have got into a van with them on her own. She’d been nothing but scathing and derisory about them. But what if she’d been desperate, really desperate? What then?

  Ruth thought back to her interview. She hadn’t told any untruths but neither had it been a full disclosure. She felt uncomfortable. There was something that didn’t sit well at the back of her mind. Would disclosing it send the police in the wrong direction? It was only a niggle. A small suspicion. Perhaps it was the way in which the detective had asked the question that set Ruth thinking. ‘Did Sarah have a regular boyfriend?’ he said. As if there might be others.

  Ruth wondered if it was possible that Sarah was seeing someone else. Someone she wasn’t supposed to. Her interest in Luke had faded. And Sarah loved being a rebel, in retaliation against her mother. Had Sarah been about to divulge something to Ruth, that first evening up at the cabin, when the two of them were alone? Was it possible that Sarah was seeing someone she shouldn’t? A married guy?

  “Ruth, honey…”

  She woke with a start. She must have dozed off. Her mother stood hovering at the foot of the bed. “It’s Kathy on the phone again…”

  Ruth groaned. “Tell her that I’m in the bath, Mum. I just can’t face another phone call.”

  “If you’re sure. It’s just that she sounds upset.”

  Kathy upset. Now there’s a thing.

  “I’ll see her tomorrow. Just tell her, please.”

  It was always about Kathy. This whole horrendous situation was down to Kathy. Staying in the pub because those cavers arrived. Acting like a lost puppy trying to attract their attention. The usual stupid Kathy antics. And yes, there had been something weird about them. Kathy attracted weirdos. The girl was a weirdo magnet.

  Tomorrow was going to be torture. The thought of meeting the Nugents en masse was bloody terrifying. Ruth would be on trial. So would Kathy. And Charlotte to a lesser extent.

  Charlotte’s culpability in this nightmare was mitigated by the fact that she left three women together, assuming there would be safety in numbers. Charlotte was not the bitch here. She was not the villain of the piece. Ruth was. And whatever happened tomorrow, Ruth just knew that Kathy would manage to soft soap everyone. Like she always did. Ruth would be seen as the ring-leader. She’d be left to shoulder the blame. They’d think her calculating. Scheming. Cold-hearted. Ruth wept silently into her pillow. It just wasn’t fair.

  The appeal on the late evening news gave a chilling taste of what was to come. Ruth could hardly bear to watch. The Nugent were an impressive couple. Angela Nugent wore a soft grey tailored suit. Her ringed hands calmly placed one on top of the other in front of a row of mikes. She spoke slowly, and precisely, in command of her emotions. Her blonde hair moved as one solid mass, lacquered and styled into place.

  Her appeal was dignified in every way. There were no tears, no breaks in her voice, no trembling. Just a straightforward appeal for information to those who may be holding Sarah or know of her whereabouts. Wynn Nugent followed. He tried to speak, but his voice was strangled with emotion. His wife flashed him a look. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Sarah, please make contact. Make contact with one of us. We just want to know that you’re alright.” He swallowed. “We all miss you, Sarah. Your mother and I. Your sisters. Ava and Penny would love…” But he couldn’t manage any more. The cameras swung to the four man panel of policemen that flanked them. “An incident room has been set up in Ballyvaughan. Please direct any information in complete confidence to the numbers coming up on your screen now.” The camera then returned to Angela and Wynn Nugent whose heads were now bowed.

  Oh, Jesus. This was hell. It was hell on earth.

  Seconds later the phone rang again. As Ruth’s mother rose from the sofa, Ruth shook her head. “I’m not here,” she mouthed.

  “Okay, pet.”

  When her mother returned this time, she carried a tray with yet more tea. Ruth would drown in a sea of tea.

  “That was poor Kathy again. She just wanted to tell you to bring your wellingtons for tomorrow.”

  “Wellingtons?”

  “There’s a search at the Blue Pool. You’ll need your wellies.”

  “Oh, Mum,” whispered Ruth. “Poor Sarah. Poor Sarah.”

  “It’s not your fault, Ruth.”

  “Oh, but Mum it is. It is our fault. It is absolutely our fault.”

  “Hush, pet, and drink your tea. You look worn out.”

  * * *

  Day Five.

  It dawned bright and clear. By seven a.m., Ruth was in the car with her father, a small overnight bag and wellingtons at her feet. She’d slept in fits and starts. When she awoke, she felt the same dead weight in her stomach, along with acid and nausea. She’d managed only a few small mouthfuls of scrambled egg.

  “The ferry is quicker,” Leonard Kelly said, so they took the boat from Tarbert in Kerry over to Killimer in Clare. It would be better than traveling the whole way by road. On the way, they passed a couple, hitching a lift. A few miles later they passed two tanned and foreign looking women also hitching a lift to Galway. No one was hitching alone. Or so it seemed to Ruth.

  Her dad made a few attempts at conversation. “The exam results will be out next week,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “I’m sure you passed,” he said.

  “Yeah, maybe.” Ruth couldn’t give a rat’s ass. What did all that matter now?

  “Are you going to go up to university to get the results?” asked her father.

  “The four of us had planned to go.”

  “I know, sweetheart. I know,” he said.

  They drove for another few miles in silence.

  “You are going to go back Ruth, aren’t you?”

  “To university?”

  “Yeah, to university. I mean… even if Sarah… even if Sarah –”

  “I don’t know, Dad. I don’t want to think about that now. I can’t think about that just now.”

  Another silence.

  “Sarah was my friend you know,” Ruth said.

  “I know that sweetheart. I know she was your friend.”

  * * *

  Arriving at the hotel in Ballyvaughan was awful. Ruth didn’t want to get out of the car. Jeeps and outside-broadcasting vans were parked up on the kerb. Charlotte’s Ford Fiesta was tucked in behind a police car towards the end of the street. Other vehicles struggled to get by. Uniform
ed police walked up and down the road, and a camera crew seemed to be making their way towards them. Ruth ducked.

  “It’s okay, pet, they’ve gone around the corner,” said her dad.

  “I don’t think I can do this.” Ruth was shaking. She felt like she was watching all of this happen to someone else.

  “You can do this, Ruth. This is for Sarah, remember. You can do this for her.”

  “I’ll try,” Ruth gritted her teeth.

  While the camera crew was busy around the corner, she hastily gathered up her belongings, kissed her father on the cheek, and made a break for the front door of the hotel.

  “Ruth, Ruth… over here.”

  Stumbling over the threshold, heart pounding, Ruth caught sight of Charlotte and Kathy, tucked away in a corner by the window. They both looked tired and washed-out.

  “When did you two arrive?”

  “We got here last night,” said Charlotte. “I drove.”

  “It’s insane out there.” Ruth flopped down in a chair beside them.

  Suddenly, there was a commotion at the reception desk. Three reporters appeared from nowhere and appeared to be harassing a small gathering of people. A policeman intervened.

  “What’s going on over there?” Ruth asked.

  “That’s the Nugents,” Charlotte said.

  Sure enough it was. Ruth stared. She guessed the two young women were Penny and Ava. They were blonde like Sarah. The policeman was persuading the reporters to leave. Mrs Nugent looked relieved. Suddenly the woman looked over in their direction. Ruth froze. She felt Mrs Nugent’s eyes boring into her. She couldn’t even blink as Mrs Nugent made a beeline straight for her. Ruth felt everyone was staring at her. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  “Hello, Ruth. Good to see you,” Mrs Nugent paused. “You know, Ruth, this is my worst nightmare. This is every mother’s worst nightmare.”

  Ruth opened her mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out.

  “We’re starting up at the Blue Pool in twenty minutes, so they tell me. I see you’ve brought your wellingtons too. You’ll need them.” The woman made as if she were going to touch Ruth’s arm, but seemed to reconsider and turned away. She walked with purpose back to her family. She too was wearing wellingtons.

  Shaking, Ruth turned around to face the girls.

  “Oh my God. That was awful.”

  “Awful,” agreed Kathy.

  “Welcome to hell,” said Charlotte.

  “I’ll just go and dump my stuff in the room. What room is it?” Ruth broke the silence. There had only been a triple room left which suited them all.

  “Upstairs,” said Charlotte. “It’s 103, third on the left,” she said. “See you back down here in five minutes?”

  Ruth nodded.

  Finding the room upstairs on the first floor, Ruth made her way to the en-suite bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Coming face to face with the Nugents was one hurdle over with.

  The thoughts of the next twenty-four hours in such close confines with the Nugent family, made Ruth feel like a worm on the end of a hook. No matter how much she twisted and wriggled, she wouldn’t be able to break free.

  Kathy

  Missing

  August 1991

  ‘Sarah can’t swim, Sarah can’t swim.’

  The words went round and round in Kathy’s head in a manic kind of chant. She wedged her hands deeper into her pockets. It wasn’t cold but she was shivering. Every now and then, a diver would break to the surface, make a hand signal, and disappear again.

  The red and white search-and-rescue helicopter hovered overhead. It darted and swooped like a water insect, it tilted and banked. Whop, whop, whop, went the blades, spreading ripples over the water. Every time it swooped, Kathy’s heart skipped a beat, wondering what had it had spotted.

  Dogs on leads sniffed and scratched their way around the peaty undergrowth on the water’s edge. And every so often, a bark or a shout of ‘over here’ would make Kathy go all clammy. This was hell.

  It had taken over twenty minutes to get to the Blue Pool from the town of Ballyvaughan. By the time the girls had arrived, a search party had already formed outside Cyril’s cabin. There was a mix of uniformed police and volunteers. There was also another group down at the boat-house which was cordoned off with tape.

  Kathy spotted Luke amongst the crowd. He was wearing waterproofs and boots. There’d been a lot of rain last night and the ground was sodden and squelchy. It was hard to believe that it had only been a week since they’d been here. Five days ago to be exact. So much had changed in that space of time. The world felt like a different place. If only they could turn the clock back.

  “There’s Richard, standing next to Luke,” Charlotte said pointing down to the boathouse. “Let’s go with that group.” They craved familiar faces. Richard had managed to get himself on to the investigation team. His knowledge of the local area was considered useful. He was deep in conversation with Luke when the girls joined them. Luke looked hollow-eyed and drawn. Throwing her arms around him, Kathy squeezed Luke tight. His wax jacket smelled fishy. Charlotte hugged Luke also but Ruth hung back.

  “Luke, what a nightmare…” Kathy searched his eyes. “It’s all so completely unbelievable. I can’t believe that this has happened.”

  “I can’t believe it myself.” Luke shook his head. “I don’t want to believe it.”

  “Come on, folks, time to make a start,” said Richard, taking charge. “I’m taking the shore on the western side and the scrubland surrounding that. Another party of volunteers and police is setting off around the eastern side. Mind your footing.”

  Richard counted his group. “That’s it then, I think we’re ready for the off. Just a minute…” he paused. “Is that the Nugents joining us?”

  “I’m doing the eastern shore,” said Luke, taking off immediately.

  Kathy tensed.

  Looking up the hill, she saw Angela Nugent striding down towards them. Behind her were Penny and Ava Nugent, Sarah’s sisters. They walked at a slower pace, on either side of a man that Kathy guessed was their father. Kathy glanced at Ruth and Charlotte. They both looked aghast.

  “We’ll join you, Garda Moran,” said Angela Nugent as she caught up with them, out of breath. “You know where you’re going.” She pulled her scarf tightly under her chin. “It’s always so dreadfully damp here in the west. I’m always telling Sarah to mind herself.”

  “How can they bear to do this?” Kathy whispered to Charlotte. “I can barely handle this myself. How can they be so brave?”

  “I don’t know,” said Charlotte, looking like she hadn’t slept in days.

  As they set off through reeds and scrub, Kathy felt a sudden pressure on her elbow. It was Wynn Nugent, Sarah’s father.

  “Mind if I walk with you?”

  Kathy was startled. He looked like a wounded animal.

  “N-not at all Mr Nugent, p-please do.” She tripped over the words.

  “I’d like to be with Sarah’s friends.” His eyes searched for understanding.

  “Of course. This must be… unbearably difficult for you,” Kathy fumbled, not knowing what to say.

  “We’ve got to find her.”

  This was awful. Simply awful.

  “I prayed last night.” Wynn Nugent squeezed Kathy’s arm. “I prayed hard. I haven’t prayed in thirty years, you know. I’d do anything to get my daughter back. Anything.”

  Grabbing Kathy, he steadied himself. He’d stumbled on a root rotting in the undergrowth.

  “Sarah wouldn’t hurt a fly you know,” he continued. “Not one ounce of aggression in those lovely bones. She wouldn’t have any fight you see… not Sarah. Ask her sisters. They’ll tell you. Even when the older two fought like cat and dog, Sarah stayed out of it. So you see if someone… she wouldn’t be able to… she just wouldn’t… if some sick scoundrel –”

  “Please, Mr Nugent…” Kathy couldn’t bear it a moment longer, “Please, don’t.” />
  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

  They fell into silence, hanging back a few yards from the group ahead, who were swatting reeds and stopping to have a poke at hidden objects. It was a murky, sticky day with the threat of even more rain. The sky was the color of dirty dish water and the air was full of tension. The lake had an eerie calm, its surface still, save for the ripples made by the divers. Everyone and everything and was holding its breath.

  Out of nowhere, a shot rang out. They all jumped. But it wasn’t gunshot – just a crack of thunder. Everyone stood still a moment, looking at the sky.

  “The gods are angry,” said Wynn Nugent softly.

  So am I, thought Kathy. I’m very angry. And I’m very scared.

  “Did Sarah ever tell you her story about the moon?” asked Wynn Nugent.

  Kathy shook her head.

  “It was Sarah’s favorite bed-time story as a kid. I’d tuck her up and tell her the story of the little girl who found a piece of the moon in her back garden.” His voice was wistful. Kathy couldn’t bring herself to look at him as he walked beside her. Clearing his throat, he continued, “The little girl knew that the moon would be very sad at losing a piece, so she climbed on a ladder onto her garden shed, and from the roof, she jumped onto a star. Then she jumped to another star, and another, until eventually she reached the moon. The moon was so delighted at having the missing piece returned, that he promised to always light up the way for the little girl if she was ever outside alone in the dark.” He paused and looked at Kathy. “Sarah loved that story.” Wynn Nugent was choking with emotion. “I’d tuck Sarah up, and off she’d go to sleep, content that all was safe and well with the world.”

  Kathy couldn’t say a thing. Tears were streaming down her face. She tried to quietly wipe them away. Then, out of the corner of her eye she suddenly caught sight of Ruth stomping up behind them. Ruth was looking at her strangely. And behind Ruth were Ava and Penny Nugent.

  Suddenly, someone somewhere blew a whistle. They all stopped dead. Kathy shivered. She looked at her watch. It was 12.41 p.m. Everyone was looking towards the water. Staring at the divers. They were dragging something ashore a few yards up the newly-made track. It was something large and black.