Underwater Breathing

by Parkin, Cassandra;

  She had been drinking, perhaps, or perhaps taking some-thing or other, something legal or illegal, given to her by a doctor or bought from someone in a pub somewhere. Or perhaps she was frightened out of her mind. Mrs Armitage lifted her mug and took a long swallow. The tea was very sweet and good in her mouth.

  “I used to make sense most of the time,” Maggie added, as if this explained everything.

  “Nothing ever makes sense,” said Mrs Armitage, with sudden bitterness. “If there’s any God at all, he’s a madman with no plan or sense of purpose. I think you should leave your husband.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Where should I leave him, though? I could take him into the forest and cover him with leaves. Maybe he’d turn into a bear and marry a princess. We all have two skins, did you know that? Ella told me that one day and I think it’s true. I try sometimes to take my skin off and see who I am underneath but it hurts too much to peel. Where did you leave your husband?”

  “On the bottom of the ocean.”

  “That’s a good place to choose. Then when you go diving you can visit him and see how he’s getting on without you. Is someone trying to come in? I can hear pebbles on the window.”

  “It’s just the –”

  “The rain’s trying to come in,” said Maggie, “but it’s not allowed. Not yet. I got here first. It can’t come in until I’ve gone. Only one visitor at a time, and only one biscuit, and no more than two riders to a car. If we didn’t have rules, the world would all come apart at the seams.”

  “I think,” said Mrs Armitage, speaking very slowly and clearly, “that you should leave your house and leave your husband and go and live somewhere else. It would be better for all of you.”

  “Maybe you’re right. I used to be very good at running away. Then I met Richard and he climbed inside me and weighed me down. I thought I wanted to be stuck in one place. But what on earth would I pack? And what would happen if he saw me?”

  “You should leave with only what you can carry. Don’t take anything that doesn’t belong to you. And go as far away as you can, and hide as well as you can. Get a job, everyone needs a job, and once you have a job you can start to build a new life for yourself. You’ll never be normal again, and you’ll never forget about him completely, but you’ll be able to put him out of your mind for a while and get on with some sort of life.”

  “Is that what you did?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  They looked at each other over the tops of their mugs of tea.

  Chapter Twenty

  Now

  In the few minutes they’d spent climbing the track from the beach, the wind had gathered all its strength. When they broke through onto the road, Jacob felt Ella stagger under the weight of air. His car crouched impatiently, rocking slightly in the wind. Mrs Armitage was sitting cross-legged in the road, resting against the back bumper.

  “Wait one minute,” she said, holding up a hand. “We need to wait a minute longer.”

  Jacob was freezing and he wanted nothing more than to get himself and Ella into the shelter of the car, but they did as she asked. Alone on its own little headland, Mrs Armitage’s house blazed with lights, pressed against the cold steel of the clouds with all its banners flying.

  “What are we waiting for?” he asked at last, through chattering teeth.

  “You’ll see.”

  It took him a moment to recognise that the trembling in his flesh was not only because of the cold. Something apocalyptic was happening, something different from all the falls they’d experienced before. Then there was a terrible roaring rumble that outshouted the storm, and a distant rush of movement and a cloud of dust that rose in defiance of the rain, and the deceptive peace that came after felt almost like silence until their ears began to recover and they could once again hear the roaring of the wind and the sea, and see the new piece of sky where Mrs Armitage’s house used to be.

  “Well,” said Mrs Armitage. “That’s that. I thought it might be this year, but I wasn’t sure. Ella, how are you doing?”

  “I’m fine,” Ella whispered.

  “No you’re not, you’re terrified. But you shouldn’t be. I always knew this was coming, and so did you. There’s no point being frightened of something that’s already here. Now all we have to think about is what comes next.” She held open the back door of the car. “In you get, both of you.”

  “I can drive if you like,” said Jacob.

  “I don’t like,” said Mrs Armitage, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  The journey was terrifying. It was the lift and tug of the wind at the car, as if a playful giant was considering turning it on its back to inspect the underneath. Or perhaps it was Mrs Armitage, muttering to herself as she peered sightlessly through thick sheets of rain. Where were they going? The car slowed, then stopped. The windscreen was misty with breath. She must have stopped to clear it. But why had she switched off the engine?

  “Right,” said Mrs Armitage. “Out you get.”

  “What? Why? Where are we going?”

  “This is the marina. I have a boathouse down there.”

  “But –”

  “If we stay here,” Mrs Armitage said, with the patient air of one pointing out the obvious, “we’ll soon be freezing. Down at the boathouse I have a stove, and also the boathouse is not in danger of blowing away.”

  “I thought we were driving into town. The hotel should have rooms. Or we can all cram in with my dad, I know it’s not ideal but at least it’s dry.”

  “It’s not safe to drive.”

  “Then give me the keys and I’ll drive, I don’t mind, I’m used to this road –”

  “My house just fell into the sea,” said Mrs Armitage with great stateliness. “My boathouse is the only hospitality I’m able to offer you at this moment. I do have water down there as well. And soup, I think. And biscuits.”

  As he tried to decide what to do, Ella opened the door, then grabbed frantically at the handle as the wind tried to tear it off its hinges. Jacob scrambled to help her, and found himself suddenly outside the car and slamming the door shut. The wind was almost enough to blow them both over. Another moment, and Mrs Armitage followed.

  The boathouse was dark and windowless, barely large enough to fit all of them. The walls were hung with wetsuits like flayed skins. Ella and Jacob crammed themselves in and tried not to shiver too obviously as Mrs Armitage put on the light and then lit the stove.

  “You’re both going to freeze,” she said. “Take your clothes off at once.”

  “We’re fine,” said Jacob, through gritted teeth.

  “Of course you’re not fine. I can only offer you wetsuits, I’m afraid. Ella, take the one hanging on the hook behind you. It belonged to me when I was thinner. Jacob, you can borrow one of my husband’s, which is the third one from the left.”

  “We’re fine,” Jacob repeated.

  “Don’t be so ridiculous. I’m not interested in seeing either of you with your clothes off. Let me know when you’ve done it and I can look around again.”

  Beside him, Ella was already peeling off her soaking outer layers. He waited another minute, then gave in to the inevitable and did as he’d been told. Ella’s back gleamed with damp. Was there a towel he could dry her with? And would there ever be a time when he could see this gradual unwrapping of her flesh and not look for excuses to touch? Thank God for Mrs Armitage’s chaperonage. He grabbed for the wetsuit and dragged it up over his legs, trying to suppress the feeling that he was putting on a dead man’s skin. The harsh light of the lamp was dimming.

  “Oh, for goodness sake.” Mrs Armitage’s hand reached for the lamp as its light sank down to a faint blue-white glow, then faded. “The batteries need changing. I have spares. Don’t start crashing around in the dark, please, or you’ll break things.”

  He stood as still as he could, but in the darkness it was difficult to hold his balance. He reached out for the wall to steady himself, and brushed against something
warm and soft. For an intoxicating moment, Ella leaned against him and he felt her breath against his bare chest, the briefest caress of her lips against his shoulder. Was there any feeling more treacherously lovely than knowing the woman you longed for desired you too? They heard something being unwrapped, the click of metal and plastic, and the light blazed out once more, turning everything it caught as ugly as it could. Jacob pulled up his wetsuit, feeling it grip around his throat like a hand. Mrs Armitage turned around, gave a strangled shriek and dropped the lamp.

  “What’s the matter?” The lamp, miraculously, was not broken.

  “Nothing. I just wasn’t expecting – that wetsuit wasn’t the one I thought you were going to wear. I said the third one from the left of the door.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jacob looked blankly at the suits on the wall, then at the thick neoprene that held him like a cocoon. The one he’d failed to correctly choose had a tomato-red body and navy legs. The one he wore was plain black with a small white flash across the chest. What unspoken code of wetsuit borrowing had he failed to understand? “Um – was this your husband’s best one or something?”

  “It wasn’t my husband’s. It belonged to his friend. It doesn’t matter.” Mrs Armitage’s voice was very steady, but her hands were trembling. “Ella, there are some chairs folded against the wall. Pass one to me, please, and then get one for you and one for Jacob and we can sit by the stove and get warm.”

  Jacob felt ridiculous in his wetsuit and the fabric was stiff and uncomfortable. He took his place next to Ella by the stove. His feet were like blocks of ice, but the rest of him was beginning to feel warm. Perhaps if he sat here for long enough, the storm might blow the roof off and he and Ella would be dragged up into the air and drift away into the stars.

  “So what are you going to do about all of this?” Mrs Armitage asked, skinning back the lid of a can of soup. When she poured it into the saucepan, the contents looked like vomit.

  “You can stay with us,” said Ella.

  “Sweet girl.” Mrs Armitage shook her head. “Not that.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” said Jacob. “We’re not – we weren’t –”

  “I understand,” said Mrs Armitage. “You didn’t mean it to happen. Lovers never do.”

  Suddenly his skin inside the wetsuit was far too hot. He’d never felt so naked in his life.

  “It’s all right,” said Mrs Armitage. “Ella, stop looking at me as if I’m going to throw you in jail. There are worse things you could have done, the two of you.”

  “No there aren’t,” said Ella.

  “Of course there are. Have you destroyed a marriage? Hurt anyone? Killed anyone? No one’s died, for goodness sakes. What? Speak up, Ella, I can’t hear you properly.”

  “I said, maybe it might be better if we did die,” Ella whispered.

  “Don’t be so ridiculous. Do you want to hear a story about the real damage love can do? I knew a woman once who killed two men because she couldn’t choose between them, and she still hasn’t paid the price for what she did.”

  Ella smiled faintly. “You don’t need to make stuff up to make me feel better. I’m not six any more.”

  “I’m not making anything up. I never make anything up. This story is the truth. The woman was married, very happily, to a man who gave her everything she wanted. But then she met the man’s best friend, and she realised she wanted him as well. She could have looked away again. But she didn’t. You’re thinking none of that could possibly be as bad as falling in love with her own brother, but that’s because you don’t know the whole story yet. Ask me what happened.”

  “What happened?” Ella said obediently.

  “She knew the other man would find it hard to betray his best friend, but she also knew he liked her. So she told him little stories about how their marriage was. She didn’t lie, exactly, but she didn’t tell the whole truth either. She made the other man believe that her husband was thoughtless and neglectful and cruel, and that she was trapped and desperately unhappy. And over time, she persuaded him into her bed.” She lifted the saucepan from the stove. “Ella, put the kettle on instead, please, while I serve this.”

  Jacob took the tin bowl of soup Mrs Armitage offered. The warmth was comforting against his fingers.

  “Of course,” Mrs Armitage continued, “then he wanted to do the decent thing. He wanted them to both leave her husband, and make a new life somewhere else. But she didn’t want that. She never had. She liked the life she had already. The only thing she’d been missing was a bit of fun on the side, and now she had that too so she was perfectly content. So she told her lover that her husband would never, ever let her go, that he was quite mad and very dangerous and often hurt her, and he would quite definitely kill her if he ever found out about what she’d been doing behind his back. And then she told her lover that they couldn’t see each other for a while.”

  But at least they weren’t brother and sister, Jacob thought wretchedly.

  “She was quite clever, this woman,” Mrs Armitage con-tinued, “and she knew her lover would do as he was told. Not because he was afraid for himself, but for her. She thought everything would quieten down for a few weeks, and then she’d find a way for them both to be alone and everything would pick up where they’d left off. But she wasn’t quite clever enough to realise how convincing she’d been. She didn’t realise until the two men went out on a boat. It was a dangerous night, quite like this one, but they should have seen the storm coming and got back to land safely. Only they didn’t. The boat sank. And the men drowned. And it was all her fault.”

  “How was it her fault?” asked Ella.

  “Because,” said Mrs Armitage, “I’ve been out to the wreck site, and the boat didn’t sink. It was scuttled. He was so disgusted with what he’d done, with what he thought his best friend might do, that he killed them both.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “There is no God,” said Mrs Armitage. “There’s only us, and the terrible things we do for love.”

  Outside, the rain beat on the roof like an enemy.

  “That’s the worst thing I’ve ever done to someone I love,” said Mrs Armitage into the electric silence. “Jacob, how about you?”

  “No.”

  “Yes,” said Mrs Armitage.

  “I’m not discussing that with you.”

  “Please stop thinking I give a damn about what you and Ella choose to do together.”

  “Then please stop asking about it.”

  “I’m not. I’m asking you why you give your father sleeping tablets during the day.”

  “I – I don’t –”

  “Yes,” said Mrs Armitage, “you do.”

  “It’s not Jacob’s fault.” Jacob was startled and touched to hear the protective anger in Ella’s voice. “Don’t you dare judge him for that. You’ve got no idea what it’s like.”

  “I take care of him every day while Jacob’s at work.”

  “And does he hit you?” Ella was so angry she was trembling. “Are you covered in bruises from where he’s gone for you with anything he could get his hands on? No, Jacob, I’m not going to shut up, she needs to know.”

  “No!” Jacob shook his head in despair. “She’s right, okay?” He made himself meet Mrs Armitage’s gaze. “You’re right. I should do better with him, I know I should. It’s just – sometimes I’m afraid…”

  “Of your father?” The kettle was beginning to sing. Mrs Armitage poured hot water into mugs.

  “Yes.”

  “No,” said Mrs Armitage, and offered him a mug of tea.

  “Stop giving me things!” He took the mug anyway. “Would you please just leave me alone?”

  “Be honest with me. Or I can’t help you. Why do you drug him? No, Ella, don’t answer for him. Jacob, tell us both.”

  “Okay, I give in! I’m afraid of myself, okay? What I might do. Because if I hit him back harder, or pushed him down the stairs – who would ever know? He’s got no way of telling anyone. And
so – and so, on the days when I know I can’t face dealing with him, I – I mean, it’s better than hitting him back, isn’t it? At least if he’s asleep he’s not getting hurt, I know he’s safe and looked after.”

  “So why do you keep him with you?” There was no passion in Mrs Armitage’s voice, only a gentle relentless ruthlessness.

  “Because I love him,” Jacob said.

  “Even though he hardly knows where he is most of the time? Even though he forgets how old you are and what he’s doing with you and barely realises how much you do for him? Even when he hits you because he’s frightened and he forgets you’re on his side?”

  “Yes.”

  “And even though you shout at him sometimes, and drug him when you need some space for yourself, you still love him?”

  “Yes, I do! I chose to look after him, nobody made me. And I know I don’t always do very well at it, I do know that, but – well, it’s the best I could manage, okay?”

  “Ella?” Mrs Armitage’s voice was softer when she spoke to Ella, as if Ella merited special treatment, but this time he felt no jealousy. It had not been Mrs Armitage’s affection he craved after all, but his sister’s. “Do you know what terrible mistake you’ve made out of love?”

  Ella raised her chin. “I thought you said it wasn’t terrible.”

  “I mean your mother. You read her book, didn’t you?”

  “Is that so terrible? I thought it might be about her life. About her first husband, stalking her.”