Chapter Nineteen

THE GROUP DECIDED THAT THEY’D GO to the lough early, before Vera Stanhope made it out to the Pilgrims’ House to see them. She might insist on coming too and this escapade was mad enough at their age. The last thing they needed was an onlooker. Besides, the swim was for Rick, not a kind of performance for an outsider to gawp at. They took the direct path to the lough across the frozen fields. Not more than half a mile from the house, so they’d be able to hurry back into the warm for breakfast. Annie had been up before the rest of them and had put together flasks of coffee, found an airing cupboard with extra towels.

The sun was up, but very low in the sky, the beams sliced by the trees in the spinney next to the house. The branches were almost completely bare now, black against the light. They’d gained an hour, because the clocks had gone back, so it seemed somehow that they were beyond time. In a different zone altogether. There was a buzz of excitement as they walked. They were giggly as kids, but well wrapped up in heavy coats and hats and gloves, so by the time they arrived at the water, Annie was roasting. They stood, an awkward little group on the bank, and for a moment she wondered if they’d back out. If someone would say: Look guys, this is crazy, we don’t have to do it. If that did happen, she’d probably agree and traipse back to the house for sausage sandwiches.

But Philip was already taking his clothes off. Hard to believe now that he was a vicar, that if he weren’t taking the week off, he’d be giving a sermon, standing in the pulpit for the first communion service of the day in front of a small gaggle of elderly women. And he didn’t just take off his outdoor clothes, but everything!

He had his back to them and was running to the water, and then everyone was following. Louisa, firm-stomached and gym fit. Even Ken. Following Louisa’s lead, he’d taken off his clothes and folded them on top of the waterproof coat she’d put on the bank, like an obedient child getting ready for bed.

Hitting the water was intense. It was like being stabbed with needles, and the cold took Annie’s breath away, making her feel panicky and anxious. She gave a strangled scream of pain. Philip had already swum to the other bank, a brisk crawl, insulated perhaps by all that fat. Louisa followed him, leaving Ken behind on the bank. Her husband watched her, seeming bewildered, bereft, so Annie thought she should go back and check on him. But then he plunged in too, and was spluttering and laughing. Not hurt by the cold, but joyous, as if he hardly felt it, like a child splashing in a paddling pool on a glorious summer’s day.

Suddenly, Annie felt more alive than she had since she was a girl. It was a hit better than any drug she could imagine. A high. It was the cold and being with friends, the strange adventure of it, so outside her daily routine. And this place. The quiet, the trees sculptural and reflected in the water. The memories of all those other times.

They didn’t stay in long. Soon they were out and shy again, wrapping themselves in towels, shivering. But still glowing. Louisa seemed quite a different person. Relaxed. Annie realized how uptight the woman had been for the whole weekend.

‘Wasn’t that fabulous?’ she said. ‘Why haven’t we done it before? Why did we just come and watch when Rick took the plunge?’

‘He never asked us to join him,’ Louisa said. ‘He just wanted an audience.’

They sat huddled in their coats and jerseys, drinking the coffee from Annie’s flasks, teeth still chattering, and it was only then that Vera approached them.

‘Well!’ she said, when she was close enough to speak. ‘I didn’t know where to look.’

‘You were watching?’ Louisa seemed amused rather than cross.

‘I got here just as you were all getting into the water. I wasn’t expecting you to have such an early start, but when nobody was there at the house, I knew where you’d be. Then I thought you wouldn’t want me here while you were getting dressed. All that fumbling with underwear. I never liked it, even when my dad took me to the beach up at Newton for a treat.’ She paused for a moment and seemed lost in reflection. ‘Not that he did very often. Only when he had other reasons for being there, and then it was the ice cream I liked best, not the water.’ Another pause and a wide smile. ‘But you don’t need to worry. I averted my eyes.’

Annie got to her feet then. The arrival of Vera had spoilt the moment, made her relive finding Rick’s body again and made his death seem real. For a moment the exhilaration of the icy water had made her forget. She led the others back to the house. Vera walked beside her. ‘What’s the plan now?’

‘Breakfast and then everyone will head home. Except Philip, I suppose, as he’s staying on the island for the rest of the week. I’ll hang on for a bit to tidy up. We’ve got the place until midday.’

‘That’s always your job, is it? Doing the cooking and clearing up the mess?’

‘No!’ But Annie thought Vera was right and certainly there’d been times when she’d resented it. Not the chores themselves but the assumption that she’d be the last person here, to do the last sweep of the place and return the keys. ‘We share the cooking and the others have much further to go than I do. It just makes sense.’

Vera didn’t comment, but Annie thought the woman had read her mind and understood. Assumptions would probably have been made about her too, throughout her career.


Breakfast would be sausage and bacon sandwiches eaten in the kitchen, wrapped in paper napkins to save dirtying plates again. The meat bought from a local farm shop, naturally. Annie grilled bacon and sliced the remaining deli sourdough bread, while the others started packing. Another of the weekend rituals. Sometimes she wondered if it would be different if she had a partner with her. It felt occasionally that because she was single, she was seen as a lesser being, or at least as if there was nobody else on her side. That she was taken for granted. Good old Annie, provider of hot drinks, comfort food, and sympathy. As if she never felt lonely and that, at her age, she didn’t have a right to expect more than this. As if they were doing her a favour simply by letting her tag along.

Vera hovered while she prepared breakfast, offering to help, but actually getting in the way. All the time, she was probing Annie with questions about the others, their relationships with Rick, and any problems they might have had with him.

‘I can’t see,’ Vera said, ‘how a vicar could be so relaxed with someone like Rick Kelsall. All his women.’

Annie looked up, then realized she was still holding the bread knife, as if it were some sort of weapon, and set it down on the counter.

‘Philip has never been judgemental.’

‘Hating the sin but not the sinner,’ Vera said. ‘I’ve never found it that easy to separate the two.’

Annie was saved from having to answer, because the others trooped in. It was almost as if they’d been waiting until the food was ready. They ate quickly. Most years they lingered, chatting, until the last minute, not wanting the weekend to be over, but today they were eager to go, wary of every word they exchanged with the inspector listening in. The carefree swim seemed from a different time. Vera left the building with the rest of them. She stood for a moment talking to Louisa. Annie wondered what that could be about, but the conversation was soon over.

Vera waved the Hamptons and Philip off, and stood by her battered Land Rover until their cars had disappeared down the lane. Annie saw that Rick’s vehicle had already gone. The police must have taken it for some kind of forensic investigation. She was willing Vera to go too, so she could clear the place and get home to grieve in peace, but the woman stood, solid as the rock in the crags above them holding Lindisfarne Castle.

In the end she opened the door of her Land Rover, fished in the dash and handed Annie a card. ‘My numbers. Home and work, and the mobile will get me anytime. At least when I’ve got reception. It’s not brilliant in my cottage. If you think of anything that might help, just give me a shout.’

Vera had slipped the card into Annie’s hand in a way that was almost furtive, though there was nobody watching. Annie nodded, and, at last, Vera did climb into her vehicle, started the engine and it drove off, belching fumes and noise.