In Too Deep Read Free

side.
    ‘Good boy,’ I say, ruffling his fur. ‘No more running.’ Istroke his hips and clip the lead back into his collar. ‘Walk with me now.’
    We set a brisk pace around Farmoor Reservoir. The last of the colourful Laser dinghies flap their way to the other side of the water as the amateur sailors head back to the clubhouse smelling of wetsuits and slightly stagnant water. Pints of beer and hot chips will carry them through tales of the afternoon’s racing, until they drift away back home to their families. I know this because once upon a time it was Rick.
    Even though it’s March and the sun has shone today, the late afternoon brings a chill, so I pull up my collar and drag my beanie down over my ears, hoping that the exercise will bring me some peace tonight. Sleeping for more than three hours at a time is rare.
    Halfway round the five-mile walk, I meet the sailing club secretary coming the other way. Molly, I think she’s called. She’s strolling with a couple of female friends, and stops when she sees me – but she carries on again, then stops again. She looks sheepishly at me, as if she doesn’t know what to say. I haven’t seen many of Rick’s friends since he disappeared.
    ‘Hi,’ I say. ‘Hasn’t it been a lovely day?’
    Her face relaxes when she sees that I can still be normal. ‘Beautiful. Quite springlike.’
    She’s about to walk on, but she hesitates, drawing a breath.
    ‘I’m really sorry about what happened. I read it in the paper. How are you doing?’ The two friends turn away.
    ‘Thank you,’ I say easily. I have that bit off pat. ‘I’m doing OK. You know.’ I squint into the setting sun, raising my hand to my brow. ‘The police are doing all they can.’
    I’m about to walk on but she reaches out and touches my arm. The hand of pity. The hand that says:
Thank
God it wasn’t me
.
    ‘If there’s anything I can do, Jean, please let me know.’ She gives an honest smile and the three of them walk on again, resuming their conversation.
    I haven’t got the heart to tell her my name is Gina.
    I come in through the back door, rubbing Cooper down in the utility room with an old towel. He stands there resignedly, his flesh lolling beneath my hands. I always used to tell Rick off for feeding him too much, but he seems to be overweight whatever I give him.
    ‘Cup of tea, Mum?’ Hannah asks.
    I slip off my coat, draping it over the banister rail in the hall. She’s taken all her stuff upstairs. She’s also changed out of the pretty tunic and leggings she was wearing earlier, and put on baggy navy tracksuit bottoms slung low on her hips, and a maroon oversized varsity-logo sweat top with the sleeves pushed up. Thick knitted socks trail off the ends of her feet as she sloshes boiling water into two mugs.
    We sit at the table, staring at each other – me wondering what to say that won’t sound contrived, and her probably wishing she’d stayed at university for the Easter break.
    ‘So you survived the term?’ It’s all I can think of to sayto cover everything Hannah must have gone through in the last few months. Although not being here was probably a blessing for her, got her away from the slick of grief that ebbs and flows around me.
    ‘I did,’ she says with a little smile. Her eyes dip down, letting me know she doesn’t really want to talk about anything to do with survival; that she’s fed up of going over and over old ground.
    ‘And you’ve been eating OK?’
    ‘Yes, Mum,’ she says with a laugh. ‘I actually ate green vegetables once or twice.’ Her face peels into a Rick-like expression – her full lips bending coyly, her head tilted slightly back and to the side, and her dark eyes narrowed so they look as if they’re smiling.
    ‘Green veggies with all the pre-drinking, right?’ I’m pushing it, but I need to know she’s OK. My subconscious says she won’t be, that something will happen, and then I’ll be alone.
    My punishment – but for