Deep Water

by Christine Poulson

  “So – ” he said, wielding a corkscrew. “Are you enjoying life afloat?”

  She told him that she had Rachel and Chloe with her temporarily.

  “Didn’t you say they’ve got a house?”

  “On Quayside, yes, but there’s a problem with the heating,” she said. “They couldn’t risk Chloe getting cold, so they’re staying at the boat while it’s fixed. But it’ll only be a few days.”

  “Did you know them before? Rachel and Daniel?” He poured her a glass of wine.

  “No. Actually I’ve only met Daniel a couple of times.”

  “I wonder how he’s getting on with the lab books.”

  “Oh, I don’t think he talks much to Rachel about his work,” she said vaguely. Was he trying to pump her? “Can I help?” she offered.

  “Nah, I’m just going to put a salad together. And then I’ll put the pizza in the oven. Why don’t you relax?”

  She sat down on the sofa and looked around the room.

  She seemed to exist in two parallel universes. In one Will was a decent hard-working scientist like herself. He was a nice guy, friendly, hospitable, a sweetie, who was helping her to get to the bottom of what had gone wrong with her experiment. In the other universe, Will was a cheat and a liar, and evidence of that might be concealed in this flat. Everything depended on how you looked at things, like those silhouettes that one moment appeared to be a young girl, and the next an old crone. Which was the true picture? Or could they both be true?

  She scanned the room, assessing the possibilities for hiding a notebook there. Of course, it might not be hidden as such, because he wouldn’t be expecting the place to be searched. It might just be in a drawer somewhere, maybe in that desk over there. That would be the first place to look. Behind the screen that divided the room, she could see the corner of a bed, and beside it, a chest of drawers. But the layout of the flat meant that it would be far too risky to start opening drawers or looking in cupboards, even if Will was in the bathroom or busy in the kitchen.

  Will called her to the table.

  As he cut the pizza he said, “I’ve got something to tell you.” His face was serious.

  She stared at him. Was he going to tell her about the lab book? Surely he wasn’t going to own up?

  He went on. “I’ve got an interview at Johns Hopkins. Well, not so much an interview as a preliminary meeting.” He named the head of the lab – someone Katie would give her eye teeth to work with.

  “Wow! Great! When?”

  “Next week – to talk about it – but they’ve made it pretty clear that they want me.”

  “But Will, that’s fantastic. Tell me more.”

  “I’d be heading up a team and there’s a lectureship attached to it. I’ve been promised tenure.”

  “Wow!” She felt a pang of envy.

  “And the money. No more scratching around to get basic equipment. There’s a huge start-up grant. And I’d been hoping to get to the States. Martha’s in New York.”

  “Oh, so that’s her name.”

  He grinned and then grimaced. “Yep. Just one thing. I haven’t told Honor yet.”

  “About the job?”

  “Well, neither actually. She doesn’t know about Martha either.”

  “But surely she’ll understand, an opportunity like this – ”

  “She’s not going to like it. She’s just put in for another grant and it won’t have occurred to her that I won’t be working on the new project. But I’ve got to move on. I can’t be the lowly researcher to her PI for ever.”

  “Of course you’ve got to go!”

  He nodded, and bit his lip.

  Something occurred to Katie. “Why doesn’t she know about Martha? There hasn’t been anything…”

  He laughed. “Me and Honor? No! But we’ve been close. Working together all this time. Anyway, she’s married. Husband’s quite a lot older than her, retired now.” His eyes slid away from hers. There was something he wasn’t saying. Was it perhaps that Honor had been interested in him in that way? That would be awkward, very awkward.

  “No,” he went on, “I didn’t tell her because I knew that if she found out I had an American girlfriend she’d imagine I was planning to leave.”

  “Which is actually the case,” Katie pointed out. She wondered if Will had been looking for a way out for a while.

  “Only if it all pans out next week.”

  “Tell me more about the work.”

  They were soon deep in technicalities. They ate their pizza and salad, scarcely noticing. The plates with their pizza crusts were pushed to one side. Will was sketching a diagram when there was a buzzing from the direction of the door. They looked at each other wide-eyed. They’d been so absorbed that they’d forgotten where they were.

  “Doorbell,” Will said.

  He got up, and went through into the sitting room.

  He opened the door and Katie glimpsed an elderly, grey-haired woman with an anxious expression.

  “Oh, Will,” she began, then she saw Katie. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize.”

  “No, no, it’s alright. This is Katie, she works in my lab. Katie, this is Marjorie, my landlady.”

  “I don’t want to interrupt – ”

  “No, it’s alright, we’ve finished eating. What’s the problem? A light bulb?”

  She nodded. “In the bathroom. But really – it can wait – ”

  “Oh, it’ll only take me a moment. Katie won’t mind.” He glanced at Katie for confirmation.

  “Of course not,” Katie said.

  “Well, if you’re sure,” Marjorie said.

  Will went out onto the landing, leaving the door open.

  Marjorie was still talking as the two of them went down the stairs. “So kind… my arthritis…”

  The talk about Will’s new project had pushed Katie’s suspicions about the notebook to the back of her mind. But it came to her that now, if ever, was the moment. As soon as Marjorie’s voice faded away, Katie leapt to her feet and ran to the desk. She hadn’t got long – if the light bulb was all ready and waiting, maybe only a minute or two. The top drawer held a role of Sellotape, batteries, rubber bands – just office supply stuff. The other drawers were equally disappointing – envelopes, paper – no notebooks in any of them. She went to the open door of the flat, poked out her head and listened. There was a murmur of voices in one of the rooms below. She guessed that Marjorie liked a chat, and Will was too nice to rush off. There was nothing nice about taking advantage of that to ransack his flat, but she thrust that thought aside. She darted back in and headed for the chest of drawers behind the screen. Quickly and stealthily, her heart beating fast, she opened the top one: underwear. The next contained T-shirts, the bottom one jumpers. Oh, hell.

  She stood and listened for footsteps on the stairs. Still nothing. She looked around and saw something that hadn’t been visible from the other side of the room. A bedside table with a drawer in it. Was there time? She went to the door of the flat. There were still voices coming from below.

  She went back and edged round the bed. The screen blocked off her view of the door. She eased open the drawer of the bedside table. The first thing she saw was a packet of condoms. She pulled it out further. There was something in there. She stretched in her hand – and closed it on a notebook. She opened it and the date on the first page leapt out at her. Oh, yes –

  And that was when she heard the door of the flat close.

  “Katie?”

  “Over here.”

  Will’s concerned face appeared round the corner of the screen. “Are you alright?” he asked.

  She was stretched out on the bed with her hands clasped over her belly. “Stomach cramps,” she explained. “Time of the month. Just felt I needed to lie down.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “I’ve already taken some paracetamol. They should kick in soon. But a cup of tea would be nice.”

  “Sure.”

  His head disappeared and she hear
d him go into the kitchen and put the kettle on.

  Her heart was beating so fast that she felt breathless. She looked sideways at the drawer. It was open just a sliver. She hoped that Will hadn’t noticed. There had only just been time to thrust the notebook inside and fling herself onto the bed. Was he coming straight back? No, he was going into the bathroom now. She heard him bolt the door.

  She rolled over onto her side and eased the drawer open. She put the notebook back as she remembered finding it and closed the drawer completely.

  She laid back and took a deep breath. So, the notebook did exist. She had been hoping that she was wrong about Will, but now she knew that she wasn’t. And she really didn’t want to hang around any longer. She lay back and stared at the ceiling, concentrating on breathing evenly, and wondered how quickly she could escape. She glanced at her watch. Quarter past ten.

  Will came back with two mugs of tea. He sat down on the bed. Katie propped herself up on the pillows and he handed her a mug.

  “Sorry I was gone so long. Marjorie’s one of those people who can’t stop talking. She’s lonely, I think; her husband died a couple of years ago.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  His eyes flicked to the drawer of the bedside cabinet for the briefest of moments and away again. Katie would have missed it if she hadn’t been so intensely aware of the contents of the drawer. She looked over the rim of her mug and her eyes met Will’s. She couldn’t read his expression. She couldn’t wait to get out of the flat.

  She drained her tea. “I really think I’d better be off.”

  “Are you OK now?”

  “Much better, thanks.” She handed him the empty mug.

  He came out to the car with her and waited while she got in and switched on the lights. He waved a hand and went back to the house.

  As she drove off she saw in the rear-view mirror that he was still standing framed in the light from the open door.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “I don’t like this,” Rachel said. “I think you’re doing something dangerous.”

  She had been waiting up in her dressing gown when Katie got back to the boat. They were sitting at the table in the galley.

  “He could have noticed that the drawer wasn’t quite closed,” Katie said, “and that later it was. It was stupid of me. I should have just left it. And then I got spooked. I feel such a fool now. What did I think was going to happen?”

  “I think you should tell someone about this. Someone apart from me, I mean.”

  Katie thought it over. “I know that Will kept a notebook covering the period of the missing lab book when he said he didn’t. But is that really evidence of anything?”

  “Well, he lied about it, didn’t he? And what about the lab book?”

  “I don’t have any proof that it’s a fake.”

  “A handwriting expert would be able to tell whether it had been written over a period of time or all at once.”

  Katie groaned out loud. “If I make a fuss and I’m wrong, no need to worry any more about getting a scientific officer post or a lectureship somewhere: I’ll be unemployable. And even if I’m right, no one likes a whistle-blower – apart from journalists. Yeah, sure, people pay lip-service to the idea, and the newspapers love a good story, but your colleagues hate you for breaking ranks and you end up being shunted off into some scientific cul-de-sac. Either way I’ll be stuffed.”

  “You can’t just leave it, though, can you?” Rachel said. “Not now that you’ve got this far.”

  “You’re right. Of course you are. I’ll have to tell Lyle. I’ll ring him now.”

  She only got his voicemail. She left him a brief message, asking him to phone back.

  Katie had been so full of her narrow escape that she hadn’t looked properly at Rachel. Only now, as she ended the call, did she notice her red-rimmed eyes.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “I’m going to be on the boat a while longer. I’m not going back to the house yet. I’m sorry.”

  “No, no, that’s fine, but what’s happened?”

  “Actually, I might not be going back at all.”

  “Rachel…” Katie leaned over and took one of the hands that rested on the table. It was warm and a little rough. She squeezed and felt the strength in Rachel’s fingers as she squeezed back.

  “You don’t have to tell me – ”

  “No, I want to.”

  Rachel took in a deep breath through her nostrils and pressed her lips together. Katie could see she was working hard to stay composed.

  After a few moments, she said, “I feel so humiliated – so confused.” Seeing the question on Katie’s face, she added quickly, “No, he’s not having an affair. At least…” She gave a mirthless laugh. “Maybe he is, at that – an affair with a dead woman. I don’t suppose you knew that Dan had been married to Jennifer Blunt, the lawyer who was on the obesity case first?”

  Katie shook her head. “Had no idea.”

  Rachel sighed. “Well, why would you? The marriage ended badly – she went off with Daniel’s best friend. I was against his taking the case. I thought it would rake up memories and feelings best left alone.”

  “And it did?”

  “And how,” Rachel said grimly. “Jennifer had a little boy, a bit older than Chloe. Daniel thinks he’s the father.”

  Katie stared at her, open-mouthed. “What?”

  “They had sex just before the divorce was finalized.”

  “And you found this out – when?” Katie asked.

  “Just a few days ago. Dan only started to suspect last week.”

  “Ah.” That explained a lot.

  “I just had to get away and think about it.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Then Katie said, “This means that – what was his name? Harry? – he could be Chloe’s half-brother.”

  Rachel nodded.

  “Phew.” Katie let out a long breath. “That ups the odds considerably – ”

  “Of his bone marrow being a match for Chloe’s. Yes.”

  Katie thought it over. “Of course, he’d only be a half-sibling, and even if he is a match, it might not work anyway. It’s not a 100 per cent success rate. That’s a lot of ‘ifs’ – ”

  “But even so.”

  “Even so.”

  “He managed to get hold of Harry’s toothbrush when he went to look for the lab book and he’s sent it off for DNA analysis to see if it’s a match for Chloe.”

  “But surely – that would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?”

  “Katie, think about it. If Dan turns out to be the father, can you imagine the damage it would do, bringing it into the open? That poor little boy has already lost his mother! Nick is all he has to cling to.”

  “I see what you mean.”

  “Dan’s been talking about seeking custody of Harry.”

  Katie stared at her. “Can he do that?”

  “If Harry was conceived while Dan was still legally married to Jennifer, maybe – oh, I just don’t know. But how can he even think of it? We had a row. I told him I couldn’t be part of it.”

  “Whoa. Hang on a minute. Let me think this through. Even if Dan is the father – and even if Harry’s a match – why does he have to seek custody?”

  “Nick, that’s Jennifer’s husband, has been arrested. The police seem to think he was in the car and left the scene of the crime. Dan thinks Nick might go to jail. Katie, I think Dan’s gone crazy. What’s happened to Jennifer, I think it’s unhinged him. It’s all such a mess. Having a child by this woman…”

  “If in fact he has – ”

  “But that it’s even on the cards…” Rachel massaged her temples. She looked up and met Katie’s eye. “I don’t know if my marriage can survive this.”

  Katie nodded. She had no answer to the dilemma, which seemed to her so difficult, so knotty, so painful that she had no idea what she would do in Rachel’s place. And it wasn’t just the problem of what to do about Harry; it was
the bombshell of finding that Daniel might have a child by another woman.

  Looking at Rachel’s drawn face, the frown that was drawing vertical lines between her eyebrows, and pulling down the corners of her mouth, Katie had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Will was in a psychotic rage, and as he got angrier and angrier he began to shrink and change shape until he was only about a metre high and sort of squarish. Katie woke up gasping. The absurdity of the dream didn’t at all diminish the horror. Her rational mind told her that her worries about Will had got mixed up with Chloe’s Rumpelstiltskin story, but she was left with a feeling of fear and foreboding.

  The boat rocked gently beneath her. Lying there, trying to orientate herself, she smelt coffee and remembered that Rachel was here. They had talked until one o’clock the night before. She yawned, pulled on her thick jumper and socks, and padded through to the galley.

  Chloe was eating breakfast cereal and Rachel was taking toast out of the toaster. They both smiled at her and the dream slipped further away.

  Rachel poured her a cup of coffee. “I’ve just been listening to the weather forecast. They’re saying there’ll be storms and gale-force winds later.”

  In spite of the late night, Rachel was looking better, more relaxed. It had probably done her good to get it all off her chest.

  “Will we feel that much on the boat?” Katie asked.

  “Could be a bit rocky.”

  Katie took her coffee back to her cabin. It was eight o’clock. Too early to try Lyle again? Maybe, but she wanted to get it over with. Then she’d try to forget about it and get on with her own work.

  Once again she got his voicemail, so she left another message.

  Later, as she walked along the tow path to where she’d parked her car, she saw that already the breeze was lifting the surface of the river into little peaks. The branches of the willow trees were swaying, and a gust of wind released a shower of dead leaves.

  She sighed. She wasn’t looking forward to the day ahead. This morning she was running the western blot for the final time and she was seeing Paul with the result this afternoon.