The Flood

by Rachel Bennett

  You robbed them of everything. The chance of a happy life. The chance of a family.

  As Leo closed the front door, cutting off the heat escaping from his home, Daniela turned away and trudged into the dark forest.

  25

  June 2010

  As she went back upstairs to her bedroom, Daniela flexed her fingers, feeling the ache in her shoulders and arms from her flight through the forest earlier that day. She thought of Franklyn’s bruises and broken fingers.

  Should Henry get away with that?

  Franklyn had given in, handed the money back to Henry, and taken a beating – either from Henry or from one of his friends. Even now, Daniela found it hard to believe Henry would’ve done it himself. More likely he’d got someone else to do his dirty work.

  And Franklyn had accepted it all, to protect her family. To protect Daniela. Henry had used Daniela’s weakness against Franklyn, like blackmail, like Daniela was a victim who couldn’t fight back.

  Daniela’s head was so full she couldn’t stop thinking, but at the same time there was nothing but static between her ears, preventing her from concentrating. She felt like she was a second away from snapping, from punching someone, from kicking them while they were down.

  When she reached the top of the attic stairs, she spotted Auryn stretched out on her old bed beneath the window, reading a hardbound textbook. She hadn’t been there when Daniela woke up a short while ago.

  ‘Where were you lurking?’ Daniela asked.

  Auryn held up her book. ‘I was looking for this in Dad’s study,’ she said. ‘I think it belonged to Mum.’

  ‘You’ve got your own room for reading.’

  ‘It’s quieter up here. What was the shouting downstairs?’

  ‘You could’ve joined in if you were interested.’

  Auryn returned her attention to her book. ‘I’d rather not. No one can have a civil conversation in this house.’

  Daniela sat down on her bed. She wanted to be quiet and think.

  Downstairs, she heard the door to their father’s study open. His footsteps shuffled down towards the kitchen. If Daniela listened hard, she could follow anyone anywhere in the house, by the echoes that murmured up through the woodwork like a gigantic sounding board.

  ‘What did Franklyn want?’ Auryn asked.

  ‘To talk to Steph, I guess.’ Belatedly, she realised what was really bothering her – Franklyn had previously confided in Daniela, but now Daniela had let her down, she’d gone to Stephanie instead. Daniela felt the sting of lost trust.

  ‘And she’s gone now?’

  ‘Yeah. Why would she stick around?’

  Auryn shrugged. ‘Why would any of us?’

  When she set her mouth into a serious line like that, Auryn resembled their mother so much that Daniela found it hard to look at her. Auryn never cracked a smile unless it was totally warranted. It was like her smiles were rationed. But there was something particular about her seriousness now. She looked older, more worried but more certain.

  ‘Why’re you still here, Auryn?’ Daniela asked. ‘Not that I wanna chase you out, but you said you’d be gone as soon as you could. That was two weeks ago. What’s keeping you?’

  A flicker of annoyance crossed Auryn’s face. ‘There’s a problem with the flat we’re renting in Newcastle. Leo’s having difficulties finding his share of the deposit.’

  ‘I thought his dad was going to—’

  ‘Yeah, that won’t happen. He won’t pay a penny to help him out, not if it means Leo’s moving in with me.’ Auryn flicked to the next page in her book, although it didn’t look like she saw the words. ‘I told him not to worry, I can cover for him. But he doesn’t want to rely on me.’

  ‘He never bothered about that before.’ Daniela said it without thinking.

  ‘I’m getting pretty sick of that attitude,’ Auryn said, and only the tension in her voice betrayed her anger. ‘You guys think he only stays with me because I buy him stuff.’

  ‘I’ve never said that.’

  ‘You’ve implied it often enough. It’s bad enough having to deal with his dad without you guys weighing in as well. Stephanie’s never liked him.’

  ‘Really?’

  Auryn gave her an annoyed look. ‘Where’ve you been, Dani? I know you don’t care about anything that doesn’t directly impact you, but still …’

  Downstairs, a faint tremor of noise indicated that their dad had switched on the kettle. Daniela swore under her breath. She didn’t want to go back downstairs while he was there. But she also had little enthusiasm for staying to talk to Auryn. She wanted to be alone.

  Daniela came to a decision. She grabbed her jacket from the floor.

  ‘Where’re you going?’ Auryn asked.

  ‘Out. Hey, I had a bottle. Where’s it gone?’ She’d just noticed its absence.

  ‘Yeah, I didn’t think that was yours.’

  Daniela held out her hand. When Auryn didn’t move, Daniela walked closer, so she was standing over Auryn’s bed.

  ‘Give it back,’ she said.

  For a moment, Auryn held her gaze, but then she sighed and, sitting up, reached under the bed to retrieve the partially empty bottle of whisky. Daniela snatched it off her.

  ‘Where’re you going?’ Auryn asked again.

  ‘Out. Why’s it any of your business?’

  ‘You’re not coming back.’

  The way she said it made Daniela hesitate. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘You look like Franklyn always does, right before she takes off.’

  Daniela tried to shrug it off. ‘Well, who the hell knows? I’ve missed the last bus into Hackett, so unless I decide to walk …’

  As she said it, she thought about the money she’d stashed in the hidey-hole beneath her bed. A mixed assortment of notes, accumulated over the months. Should she take it with her? If there really was a chance she might not come back …

  Auryn studied her, then asked once more, ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘If I tell you—’

  ‘I can’t breathe a word to Steph, yeah, yeah. Give me a little credit.’

  ‘Sure.’ Daniela managed a tiny smile. She sat down on her bed. ‘You’re right, I’m not sticking around. If I can leave tonight I will.’ It surprised her to find she meant it. ‘But I’m not going quietly.’

  Auryn raised her eyebrows. ‘How d’you mean?’

  ‘I wanna be sure Henry will leave us alone.’ Henry’s threats still rang in Daniela’s ears. If he hadn’t gone after me, it could’ve been you, Auryn. ‘Frankie says it’s finished, but I’m not convinced.’

  ‘You don’t trust her?’

  ‘That’s not it. I wanna know why he threatened me. That kinda made it personal, y’know?’

  Auryn gave a weak smile. ‘Yeah, all right. So, what’re you planning?’

  ‘I just … Jesus, don’t say it like that. I’m not planning anything. I just want to know what he’s up to. That’s it.’

  ‘Are you going to turn up at his house and hope he feels like talking politely with you?’

  Daniela stared at her pallid, serious face behind the round glasses. Auryn’s expression contained no condemnation or judgement. She looked genuinely interested.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Daniela said. ‘I’ll figure something out.’

  Auryn nodded as if accepting this. She picked up her book again. ‘Take care, all right? Don’t do anything stupid.’

  That’s all anyone expects from me, Daniela thought as she limped downstairs. They still think of me as a stupid kid.

  She snuck through Auryn’s room, slid open the window, and climbed down the apple tree that leaned against the side of the house. Once on the ground, she put her hand over the reassuring shape of the knife in her jacket pocket.

  I’ll show them.

  26

  The Corner Shoppe and the antiques store were locked up for the night, but a light burned in the room above, peeking through the net curtains to cast a rectangle of ye
llow on the street below. Those rooms, Daniela knew, were part of the house at the back of the Shoppe, where the McKearney family lived.

  Daniela had never been inside the house, but she knew the rough layout. Leo’s room was at the rear on the first floor, overlooking the small yard.

  Circling round to the back of the corner shop, Daniela passed the yard that led to the house, noting the light that illuminated Leo’s room. The flowery curtains were drawn and the window was open a crack. She kept going until she reached the wooden gates behind the antiques emporium. The gate was closed and padlocked. Squinting through the gap beside the lock, Daniela saw Henry’s car parked in the yard.

  Daniela hugged the shadows while she considered her next move. The night air was cold and made each exhalation steam. The streetlights were slightly too far apart for their pools of light to overlap – poor planning on the council’s behalf, which made the lane look shady and disreputable.

  This had seemed an easy decision when she’d been at home with nothing but her anger to dwell on. Sneaking out of the house, walking into Stonecrop, going to the antiques shop, all were automatic actions. The only part she hadn’t thought through was what she’d do when she arrived.

  Her guilt and anger over letting Henry scare her had intensified until she couldn’t rest. It consumed each step, each thought. Because of her, Henry had taken the money back. Because of her, Franklyn had got hurt. Because of her, because of her. Daniela felt sick every time she thought of Franklyn’s broken fingers.

  She couldn’t live with what Henry had done. And she didn’t share Franklyn’s confidence that Henry would leave their family alone. The bastard would think he was invincible now.

  Daniela told herself she was here tonight because she wanted to know exactly what Franklyn was mixed up in. But in truth, she wanted to get back at Henry. To hurt him. To break his fingers and threaten to drown him.

  And how will you do that? Henry was obviously dangerous. Going up against him directly was a stupid idea.

  So, something else was required. Something that would send a clear message.

  She had to be as ruthless as Henry. There was no other way.

  But now Daniela was standing outside the empty shop, glancing at the lighted windows of the neighbouring house, she wondered what she was capable of.

  The alcohol she’d drunk sat sour in her stomach. Whilst walking into town, she’d taken a few more swigs from the bottle, then flung it over a hedge. She hadn’t felt like drinking anymore. To be honest, she’d only taken the bottle because Auryn had tried to stop her.

  It’d be easy to get over the wall into the rear yard of the antiques shop, even with her bad ankle. She’d managed it yesterday. And she’d watched Franklyn spring the back door. She figured she could do it. The building had no burglar alarm or CCTV.

  And what then? Daniela’s pulse quickened. She’d have to move fast. Someone might hear her moving around inside the shop. Henry might come to investigate.

  Daniela brushed a hand against the front pocket of her jacket, feeling the shape of the flick-knife through the leather. It didn’t give her its usual comfort. She felt a little ill.

  Just leave. What’re you hoping to achieve? Leave, go to Hackett, catch the first train to somewhere better. Franklyn said—

  Her fists clenched again. Franklyn had been coerced into saying everything was fine. No, Daniela couldn’t leave it like this.

  So, what’re you waiting for?

  Daniela took a deep breath, let it out slow. There was no traffic, no people on the street, no noise apart from the wind in the trees. It was a little after eleven o’clock and fully dark. Daniela was always unnerved by how the village shut down at nightfall, as if the darkness terrified it, but at least she wouldn’t bump into anyone on the streets. She glanced left and right, reassuring herself the lane was empty, then scrambled over the wall and dropped soundlessly onto the gravel yard. She rested against the wall until the ache in her ankle subsided.

  The fire door at the rear of the antiques shop wasn’t designed to open from the outside, but age or misuse had loosened the mechanism. Daniela picked up a bent nail from the gravel, worked it into the gap and sprung the lock. She held her breath as the heavy door swung open. No alarms. Daniela slipped inside.

  At night, with the lights off, the interior was even gloomier. The crowded pieces of furniture were solid blocks of darkness. An orange haze filtered through the front windows from a streetlight outside. The darkness had a grainy quality, as if the air itself was dusty. The aroma of aged wood and stale cigarette smoke was like the bottled smell of her childhood.

  The first thing Daniela did was search for the box containing the counterfeit cigarettes, but there was no sign of it. Given the mess, the box could’ve been hidden anywhere. She was hampered by the dark and the need to be silent. It also didn’t help that, apart from the statuette box, she didn’t know what she was looking for.

  Franklyn said Henry was shipping all sorts of stuff. It must be more than one box of crappy cigarettes. What else is he hiding?

  The desk drawer Franklyn had smashed was empty, the pieces of broken wood removed to leave just the shell of the drawer.

  In a small jewellery box on top of the desk, Daniela found four gold eternity rings, set with diamonds and emeralds. The handwritten price tags made her eyebrows go up. She felt an odd tingle as she picked them up, perhaps because they resembled the rings her mother had once worn, the ones her mother had flung at her father during their last fight.

  Daniela hesitated, then slipped the rings into her back pocket. If she was leaving town, it wouldn’t hurt to have something she could pawn in the city.

  She widened her search, peering into random boxes and pulling open cabinets and dressers. Each cupboard was stuffed with papers, bric-a-brac, and other boxes. A full search would take days. Nothing looked relevant or even interesting.

  Irritated, Daniela made her way through the shop, squeezing between furniture. Although she tried to be quiet, she kept banging her knees and elbows. Each time, she froze, certain someone must’ve heard.

  At the far side of the shop were two storerooms. Daniela checked them on the off-chance that Henry was hiding anything incriminating within.

  The first door was locked. Daniela shied away from breaking the catch. The noise would definitely be heard. When she tried the second door, it swung inwards, revealing a cramped room with a chair and table wedged in one corner and a washbasin in the other. There was an electric kettle and a stack of old newspapers on the table.

  By now, Daniela was losing patience. She didn’t know exactly what she’d hoped to find, but she’d expected something she could use against Henry.

  She eyed the kettle. The plug was frayed, with a section of bare wire exposed. A real fire hazard.

  She checked her pockets for her cigarette lighter.

  Was this an option? She rolled the plastic lighter between her fingers. The frayed wire next to the stack of newspapers was so tempting it could’ve been set up specifically. With so much furniture crammed into the main showroom, a small blaze could become an inferno. She wondered how long it’d been since Henry last checked the smoke detectors.

  Daniela’s eyes travelled to the plaster ceiling. Directly above was a portion of the McKearney house. Her resolve faded. If it was just the shop and Henry’s possessions, maybe she would’ve considered a fire. But with the bedrooms above, and Henry and his family asleep …

  An image popped into her head of the building in flames, of Henry trapped upstairs, lungs blackened by smoke, choking, dying. It gave Daniela a weird tingle in the pit of her stomach. Quickly she shook the thought away, disturbed.

  No. As bitter as she was, Daniela couldn’t justify getting someone killed.

  Her eyes fell instead on the washbasin. The tap dripped into the tide-marked sink. Fire was out of the question, but water …

  Daniela turned to survey the shop. She grinned. Yeah, a little flood damage would be perfect.

&
nbsp; 27

  February 2017

  One advantage of the mass evacuation of Stonecrop was a surfeit of houses standing empty. Most were locked up, front and back, but it didn’t take long for Daniela to find one whose owners had left a window unsecure. She slipped the latch and climbed inside, closing the window behind her. It was a relief to get out of the constant rain.

  The house was a detached cottage on the northern outskirts of town, surrounded by extensive gardens. Seven years ago, it’d belonged to the Caronett family, whose daughter was in the year above Daniela at school. Daniela wasn’t sure if they still lived here. The house was set far back from the road, but Daniela left the lights off, just in case. Besides, she wasn’t certain the power was working. Floodwater had infiltrated the gardens and kitchen, despite the extensive sandbagging.

  Daniela made a quick, automatic search of the house, even though she was certain it was empty. She couldn’t help but remember how, a few hours earlier, she’d done the same in Auryn’s home. This place had that same abandoned feel.

  In the bathroom, Daniela stripped off the jumper Leo had given her and dumped it in a sodden heap. Her eyes and nose still ached from the incapacitant spray. It was a constant struggle not to rub her eyes. She removed the rest of her clothes and gratefully dried herself with a fluffy towel from the airing cupboard. She tried the hot tap and was delighted to find it working. She hesitated, then filled the bathtub.

  It felt wrong to do all this in someone else’s house. Invading a property brought back uncomfortable memories of breaking into the antiques shop, seven years ago.

  But this, right now, was necessary. Daniela had lost her jacket during the scuffle in the house, and everything else she wore was soaked, right down to her underwear. She was chilled to the bone and couldn’t feel her toes. The constant shivers racking her body made every movement a chore. If she didn’t get warm soon, she’d shake to pieces. Running a bath felt less invasive than wrapping herself in every blanket in the house.