A Keeper(38)

She called out: ‘Help!’ Even to her own ears it sounded feeble. ‘Help me!’ She tried to call louder but it was hopeless. Her violent shivering meant it was almost impossible for her to catch a breath. She could no longer feel her legs. Her flailing hands seemed to be finding more and more water. The tide must be coming in, she thought, and a crescendo of panic was followed by a deep sense of calm. This was to be her end. She let her body go limp and sink a little further. She remembered the story of the man coming home from the pub. They had found his bike. There would be no trace of her. A great tiredness settled upon her and she wondered if she might just fall asleep and never wake up. Warm, why did she feel so warm? She struggled with the buttons at the collar of her coat like a drunk trying to get undressed. The water was lapping around her armpits now. She couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed. The darkness was everywhere.

At first she thought it was a noise in her head. A low growl. Maybe it was the wind. A car? A boat? But then long beams of light were thrust out across the water and Patricia stared at the hollow grey runway of illuminated waves. She half-expected to see something emerge from the surf. Then the beams of light shifted slightly towards her. They were wider and the engine sound was much louder. Finally, the beams hit her full in the face. She closed her eyes and did her best to wave her arms above her head. She tried to yell but couldn’t.

The diesel and smoke of the tractor filled the air and then Edward’s voice.

‘Don’t move. I’m going to get you out. Stay still.’

She saw the outline of him as he walked in front of the tractor’s headlights but then he disappeared. The sound of splashing came from behind her and then she felt a tugging on her coat. Slowly, so slowly, her body shifted up through the mud. Her breasts were free and Edward had his arms around her now, heaving her towards him.

‘I’ve got you. That’s it. I’ve got you. You’re safe now. Gently.’

Eventually her whole body had been freed and she found that she was lying on top of Edward. His chest was rising and falling with the effort of his exertions. He eased himself from beneath her and putting his arms under her, he cradled her like a bride before the threshold. Slowly, taking one careful step at a time, he headed towards the tractor, its engine still running. Patricia pressed her marble-cold face into the heat of his body. She could just make out his voice above the sound of the engine and the wind slapping the sea.

‘Why? Why did you have to come this way? If only you had gone through the paddock. She’ll never let you go now. Never.’

Patricia wasn’t sure, but it sounded as if he was crying.





NOW


It was a long, low building with unpainted grey plaster walls and a short gravel driveway. It looked more like a large bungalow than whatever Elizabeth had imagined a nursing home might be. A chain made of white plastic protected the edges of the square of lawn that ran down to the road where a discreet sign announced that this was Abbey Court Care Home. It seemed so sad to Elizabeth that a man who had spent his life in the rugged splendour she had found at Muirinish should end his days in this bland suburban setting.

Brian pulled the car right up to the door and switched off the engine.

‘So, I’ve got a few bits to do in town. I’ll be back for you in, say, an hour and a half? That sound about right?’

‘Perfect!’

After her initial shock at the news that her father was still alive, Brian had explained that he had just bought the land at Muirinish but that as far as he knew for the last four or five years Edward had been in full-time care. Before she’d had an opportunity to think about it, Brian had offered her a lift to the care home and rung his aunt, who normally only took in visitors during the summer months, but after a brief conversation had agreed to accommodate Elizabeth. It made a refreshing change to have someone else take charge.

The care home was about an hour’s drive inland just outside Clonteer, the nearest town. Elizabeth had been nervous about spending that much time in a car with a total stranger but in fact the conversation flowed easily. At times she felt he was flirting and occasionally she was fairly certain that she was flirting back. Brian was one of those men who seemed very comfortable in their own skin and Elizabeth liked that. He had a confidence and seemed to take pleasure in making her laugh. It was fun to spend time with an unattached man with zero expectations.

After Elliot she had been on a few dates. She’d felt she should, not just to help her get over the humiliation of the divorce but also to reassert herself as a woman who could be attractive to men. It was the end of a relationship, not her life, she reasoned. The love of her life might still be waiting for her.

Well-meaning friends from Hunter had set her up on dates. A professor old enough to be her father, followed by a middle-aged man from Admissions who got so drunk he had been sick on her shoes. She had tried the various apps but after a few dates with men either still obsessed by an ex-wife, not divorced or an extremely noisy eater – other tables had turned to look! – she had decided to just be single for a while. It didn’t help matters that none of her dud dates had bothered to get in touch hoping for a second chance. She appeared to be off the market whether she wanted to be or not. She had her work and her friends and then as Zach got older she found that she had begun to rely on him for company. Now she worried that doing so might have had something to do with the whole Michelle Giardino situation.