Page 31 of The Girls in the Lake
‘You don’t sound fine.’
She smiled. ‘I’m crying because I’m pissed off, Josh. I’m sick of feeling like this.’
He helped her to her feet. Gently taking hold of her elbow, he guided her into the bathroom, where he left her and waited outside on the landing for her. What was he supposed to do? He knew this wasn’t right. It wasn’t his responsibility; they weren’t a married couple any more. Yet, he could no longer leave her like this than he could any other friend. Despite their differences, she deserved more. He felt a stab of guilt as his mind whispered:what about Beth? She deserves more too.
Thirty-Five
James passed Beth a pair of rubber boots. ‘Thank you, I’ll return these, and your clothes. I really am very grateful.’ She slipped them on and stood up; her frozen hands and toes had finally thawed out. The magnitude of how stupid she’d been was weighing heavy on her shoulders.
‘Like I told those detectives earlier, if you have anything you need to speak to me about I’d appreciate it if you made an appointment with me. Next time I might not be around if you decide to do your own stunts. I don’t mean to rub it in or anything, but that really was a crazy thing to do. Aren’t you supposed to work on the bodies in the mortuary? Are the police that hard up for cash they have you out doing their job as well?’
She smiled. ‘I was investigating to satisfy my own questions. I don’t think I have anything further to ask you.’
He nodded, passed her a black bin liner containing her sodden clothing and followed her as she made her way back up onto the deck. Beth didn’t know if he was making sure she got off his boat, or whether he was ensuring she didn’t fall overboard. The wind was still blowing, but the rain had eased off to a steady drizzle. She moved cautiously – one dip into the lake was enough for one evening. He took the bag from her to allow her to climb off the boat using two hands, and once she was safely on the jetty he passed it back to her, then climbed over himself to walk with her along the jetty and back to where her car was parked. He left her to go to the private car park for boat owners, and she turned away, mortified that her mediocre investigating had almost cost her her life.
Inside the car she turned the heaters on full and recoiled at the initial blast of cold air that was expelled through them. She drove in silence, not in the mood for anything, except maybe a glass of wine and for Josh to wrap his arms around her.
* * *
As she drove in through the automatic gates her heart sank once more; Josh was late home again. When she’d spoken with him he was in the supermarket. Surely he hadn’t gone back to work with a car full of shopping? Letting herself in to the house, she went straight into her open-plan kitchen, took a bottle of wine from the fridge and poured herself a large glass which she drank almost in one go. Then she refilled it.
Realising she’d left her phone in the car, she went outside to retrieve it and the bag of clothing. She went inside and wondered if she’d managed to lose the sample that had almost cost her her life. Ripping open the sack, she found her waterlogged coat and pushed her hand into the pocket. A small gasp of joy escaped her lips as her fingers curled around the small plastic evidence jar. For the first time since she’d fallen into the water, she smiled. Taking it to one side, she lifted it to the light. There wasn’t much inside it, the smallest curl of paint, but hopefully it would be enough for a comparison. She would send it off to the lab first thing tomorrow, fast-tracked.
Taking it into the kitchen, she put the jar into her handbag which she’d left on one of the bar stools. Now if only Josh would come home soon everything would be better. She wanted to lie next to him and absorb every ounce of his body heat. She looked at her phone to see there were three missed calls from him. She rang him back, but it went to voicemail. They were like passing ships in the night and it was driving her mad. Taking her wine and a family-sized bag of salt and vinegar crisps, she went up to bed, to watch television until he came home.
As she sat cross-legged on the bed in her fleecy pyjamas watchingBridesmaidsfor the tenth time, she tried not to think about James Marshall. He didn’t seem like a killer to her; he had saved her life, there was no doubt about it. Maybe those women had really drowned because of their own stupidity; hadn’t she just proved to herself how easily it could happen – and she’d been sober. They knew from eyewitness reports that Leah Burton had consumed a large amount of alcohol while on the boat. Was she being overly cautious and finding suspicious motives when there were none? It was possible. She didn’t know what to think.
Finishing the last of the wine, she stood up and brushed the crisp crumbs off herself and the bed. Leaving the television on because she couldn’t bear to lie in the dark, in silence, she lay down and closed her eyes. The room began to swim slightly and she threw the duvet back and put one foot onto the floor as if to anchor herself. A packet of crisps and a full bottle of wine was probably not the best choice for her evening meal, although she could count the grapes in the wine as part of her five a day. Her stomach lurched and she just made it to the bathroom before she threw up all over the side of the toilet, giving off the smell of wine and the crisps mixed with the underlying earthy smell of the water from the lake she’d swallowed. She retched again, memories of swallowing a huge mouthful of the water when she’d plunged into the water making her stomach churn. When she could only dry-heave she stood up, washed her face then cupped her hands and drank as much water as she could stomach. Her head was now pounding and all she wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep, black out and forget about what had happened.
Back in bed, this time the room stayed still. She closed her eyes and began to count. Before she’d managed to get to thirty, she let out a gentle snore and the world went blank.
Thirty-Six
When Beth opened her eyes she realised the house was suddenly quiet and still. It was still dark but the howling wind and lashing rain had died down. The bed was empty beside her and she felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness engulf her. She climbed out of bed in search of ice cold water and some painkillers to numb the throbbing inside her head. As she made her way downstairs, she hoped to find Josh sprawled out on the sofa; occasionally if he was home too late he’d sleep there, not wanting to disturb her. She peered into the lounge. It was empty. Maybe she should get a dog; at least it could keep her company on the nights Josh wasn’t around. She hated how needy she was getting. She never used to be this way. How things change.
After swallowing two paracetamol along with a large glass of water, she went back to bed. It niggled her that he was working all night even though both the girls’ deaths were filed as ‘accidental’. She lay down in bed, checked her phone again then decided to ring him back. About to end the call, his voice suddenly whispered down the line.
‘Hi.’
This completely threw her.
‘Morning, just checking you’re okay?’
‘I’m good thanks, are you?’
‘Where are you, Josh?’
There was a slight pause. ‘I’m still at work, helping with a case in Barrow.’
For the first time since they’d been together, she didn’t believe him. For one thing, he usually told her exactly what he was working on, no names, but they’d discuss cases over dinner most nights. He was being secretive; this wasn’t like him and she didn’t like it. It also didn’t sound as if he was in a police station. It was far too quiet.
‘I’ll be home soon, you get some sleep.’
‘Okay, bye.’ About to end the call, she heard a woman coughing in the background and a sharp, shooting pain shot through her heart. Dropping the phone on the bedside table, she felt hot tears sting her eyes as her mind ran through a list of names of the women he worked with. Josh and Sam worked together a lot, but she was married with kids and Beth got the impression from her she was happy with her home life. No, she didn’t think it would be her. There were plenty of young female officers for him to choose from though. If Josh was cheating on her she knew it would destroy every ounce of her faith in humanity; she had come so far and knew that it would send her reeling back into her shell and that existence of never being able to trust another human being again.
She didn’t know she was properly crying until she realised her pillow was wet. Her fingers reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes, then moved up to the side of her forehead where the scar was: her personal reminder that life was precious and could be taken away in the blink of an eye. The tips of her fingers rubbed against it, tracing the puckered pink line. A voice whispered inside her head:you’re wrong about this, Beth, completely wrong. There’s no way he would cheat on you. He would tell you to your face if he wasn’t in love with you.She wanted to agree with it one hundred per cent, but something was telling her it was wrong. Something was going on, and she needed to find out what.
Thirty-Seven
