‘Yes.’
Emmeline started to laugh hoarsely, dropped the shoes onto the ground. ‘Why didn’t you say so? I adore games! How clever of you, darling.’
‘Go back to the party,’ said Hannah. ‘And don’t tell anyone you saw me.’
Emmeline twisted an imaginary button on her lips. She turned on her heel and tripped her way over the stones toward the path. She scowled at me as she got close to my hiding spot. Her makeup had smudged.
‘I’m sorry, miss,’ I whispered. ‘I thought it was real.’
‘You’re just lucky you didn’t ruin everything.’ She eased herself onto a large rock, settled the jacket around her. ‘As it is I’ve a swollen ankle and I’ll miss more of the party while I rest. I’d better not miss the fireworks.’
‘I’ll wait with you. Help you back.’
‘I should think so,’ said Emmeline.
We sat for a minute, the party music reeling on in the distance, interspersed occasionally with a whoop of excited revelry. Emmeline rubbed her ankle, pressed it onto the ground every so often, transferring her weight.
Early morning fog had started to gather in the fens, was shifting out toward the lake. There was another hot day coming, but the night was cool. The fog kept it so.
Emmeline shivered, held open one side of her companion’s coat, rifled through the large inside pocket. In the moonlight, something glistened, black and shiny. Strapped to the coat’s lining. I inhaled: it was a gun.
Emmeline sensed my reaction, turned to me, wide-eyed. ‘Don’t tell me: first hand gun you’ve ever seen. You are a babe in the wood, Grace.’ She pulled it from the coat, turned it over in her hands, held it out to me. ‘Here. Want to hold it?’
I shook my head as she laughed, wishing I had never found the letters. Wishing, for once, that Hannah hadn’t included me.
‘Probably best,’ Emmeline said, hiccoughing. ‘Guns and parties. Not a good mix.’
She slipped the gun back into her pocket, continued to fossick, locating finally a silver flask. She unscrewed the lid and tossed her head back, drank for a long time.
‘Darling Harry,’ she said, smacking her lips together. ‘Prepared for every event.’ She took another swig and tucked the flask back into the coat. ‘Come on then. I’ve had my pain relief.’
I helped her up, my head bent over as she leaned on my shoulders. ‘That should do it,’ she said. ‘If you’ll just…’
I waited. ‘Ma’am?’
She gasped and I lifted my head, followed her gaze back toward the lake. Hannah was at the summer house and she wasn’t alone. There was a man with her, cigarette on his bottom lip. Carrying a small suitcase.
Emmeline recognised him before I did.
‘Robbie,’ she said, forgetting her ankle. ‘My God. It’s Robbie.’
Emmeline limped clumsily onto the lake bank; I stayed behind in the shadows. ‘Robbie!’ she called, waving her hand. ‘Robbie, over here.’
Hannah and Robbie froze. Looked at one another.
‘What are you doing here?’ Emmeline said excitedly. ‘And why on earth have you come the back way?’
Robbie drew on his cigarette, fumbled with the filter as he exhaled.
‘Come on up to the party,’ Emmeline said. ‘I’ll find you a drink.’
Robbie glanced across the lake into the distance. I followed his gaze, noticed something metallic shining on the other side. A motorbike, I realised, nestled where the lake met the outer meadows.
‘I know what’s happening,’ Emmeline said suddenly. ‘You’ve been helping Hannah with her game.’
Hannah stepped forward into the moonlight. ‘Emme-’
‘Come on,’ said Emmeline quickly. ‘Let’s all go back to the house and find Robbie a room. Find some place for your suitcase.’
‘Robbie’s not going to the house,’ said Hannah.
‘Why, of course he is. He’s not going to stay down here all night, surely,’ said Emmeline with a silvery laugh. ‘It might be June but it’s rather cold, darlings.’
Hannah glanced at Robbie and something passed between them.
Emmeline saw it too. In that moment, as the moon shone pale on her face, I watched as excitement slid to confusion, and confusion arrived horribly at realisation. The months in London, Robbie’s early arrivals at number seventeen, the way she had been used.
‘There is no game, is there?’ she said softly.
‘No.’
‘The letter?’
‘A mistake,’ Hannah said.
‘Why’d you write it?’ said Emmeline.
‘I didn’t want you to wonder,’ said Hannah. ‘Where I’d gone.’ She glanced at Robbie. He nodded slightly. ‘Where we’d gone.’
Emmeline was silent.
‘Come on,’ said Robbie cagily, picking up the suitcase and starting for the lake. ‘It’s getting late.’
‘Please understand, Emme,’ said Hannah. ‘It’s like you said, each of us letting the other live the life they want.’ She hesitated: Robbie was motioning her to hurry. She started walking backwards. ‘I can’t explain now, there’s no time. I’ll write: tell you where we are. You can visit.’ She turned, and with one last glance at Emmeline, followed Robbie around the foggy edge of the lake.
Emmeline stayed where she was, hands dug into the coat’s pockets. She swayed, shuddered as a goose walked over her grave.
And then.
‘No.’ Emmeline’s voice was so quiet I could barely hear. ‘No.’ She yelled out, ‘Stop.’
Hannah turned, Robbie tugged her hand, tried to keep her with him. She said something, started back.
‘I won’t let you go,’ said Emmeline.
Hannah was close now. Her voice was low, firm. ‘You must.’
Emmeline’s hand moved in her coat pocket. She gulped. ‘I won’t.’
She withdrew her hand. A flash of metal. The gun.
Hannah gasped.
Robbie started running toward Hannah.
My pulse pumped against my skull.
‘I won’t let you take him,’ said Emmeline, hand wobbling.
Hannah’s chest moved up and down. Pale in the moonlight. ‘Don’t be stupid, put it away.’
‘I’m not stupid.’
‘Put it away.’
‘No.’
‘You don’t want to use it.’
‘I do.’
