The Fiat jerked and spluttered its way out of the city, shuddering to a halt as lights turned red and taking corners so fast their bodies were thrust to one side as if they were riding a rollercoaster.
‘I feel sick,’ moaned Alice.
Staring through the side window, Hannah watched the strange, sun-kissed world flash past: bleached grass verges, concrete barriers separating the road from white-washed buildings, everything fuzzy through clouds of dust. After a while, there were no more houses, just fields rippling with sunflower heads, a sea of yellow sweeping into the distance.
The backs of Hannah’s legs were sticking to the hot leather seat and, with the heavy suitcase balanced on her lap, she couldn’t move to get more comfortable. She was also starting to feel sick when, after what seemed like hours but was probably only thirty minutes, they turned off the main road. The taxi bumped along a track, veering from side to side as the driver presumably tried, unsuccessfully, to avoid potholes. Then they were flung sideways as the car did a sharp left turn through a metal gate. A crush of shrubbery scratched at the window and they came to a halt, gravel crunching beneath the car’s wheels and clouds of dust swirling up on either side. For a few seconds, none of them spoke. Hannah could hear herself breathing heavily into the silence.
‘You are here!’ announced the taxi driver, turning and grinning, his teeth startlingly white against his tanned skin.
Nick was the first to find his voice. He leaned forward in the front seat, peering up at the house. ‘Wow, look at this! Worth the effort.’
‘I was so nearly sick,’ muttered Alice.
‘Beautiful, lovely place!’ The taxi driver beamed. He got out of the car and opened the boot, dragging out the two small suitcases and dumping them onto the ground. ‘You have good holiday, monsieur. Will be eighty euros today.’
‘Eighty?’ said Nick. ‘At the airport, you said fifty!’
‘Special cheap price, for lovely English family!’
‘But we agreed fifty when we set off?’
‘Very good deal. Speedy ride for eighty euros!’
‘But you definitely…’
‘For God’s sake, Nick, just pay him.’ Hannah was clambering out of the back seat, her neck sticky with sweat and her shoulder aching where it had thumped against the car door as they swung into the drive. She could also feel her head starting to throb, but they were here now, which was all that mattered. ‘Alice,’ she called. ‘Take the other case, please. Jimmy, where are you going? Come and pick up your backpack!’
But the boy had gone, his shoes churning up the stones on the drive, his shorts a flash of blue as he disappeared around the corner of the house.
‘Why don’t you ever make him help?’ said Alice. ‘He’s old enough to carry bags too.’
‘I know, but he’s excited. Let’s just get inside.’
Alice kicked the backpack to one side and dragged one of the smaller suitcases towards the front door, carving an ill-tempered scar in the earth beneath the gravel.
The taxi driver counted the notes Nick had handed him, then got back into the Fiat and waved energetically as he reversed at top speed out of the drive.
‘Daylight robbery,’ muttered Nick.
Hannah stood looking up at the house. ‘Isn’t this beautiful?’
The pale blue window frames had black grilles running along their ledges and behind the glass they could see faded markings on the closed wooden shutters. The walls were a soft honey colour, the outlines of the stones sharper in places where the pointing was crumbling. A woody stem of wisteria must have spent years working its way up one corner of the building, before meandering along the front, its tendrils burrowing into the dusty gaps in the stonework.
Alice had found a heavy black key under a stone and she fitted it into the lock and opened the front door. Inside, their eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the darkness as skeletal fingers of sunlight wormed through gaps in the closed shutters and extended across the floor. Hannah found a switch on the wall and the shadows leapt back to the edges of the room as an overhead bulb cast a milky glow over a wooden table.
‘Let’s get some daylight in here,’ she said, lifting a metal latch and flinging back the nearest set of shutters. ‘Nice big dining room; plenty of space for all of us around that table.’
‘What time are the others getting here?’ asked Alice, moving towards the staircase at the edge of the room. ‘I want to choose a bedroom for me and Suzy.’
‘You can pick one now,’ said Hannah. ‘But we may turf you out if we decide to go in there, or if Aunty Lizzie wants it.’
‘That’s bloody unfair.’ Alice stomped up the stairs, dragging her case.
‘Don’t swear, Alice,’ said Nick, peering through a doorway on the far wall. ‘This one’s the sitting room.’
A second door opened onto a large kitchen at the back of the house, and they exclaimed at each new find.
‘Look at that dresser!’ said Hannah, running her hand along the uneven grain of the wood. ‘I love the stone floor.’
‘Nice old butler’s sink,’ said Nick. ‘Glad there’s a dishwasher though: I don’t fancy spending my holiday washing up.’
Upstairs, they could hear Alice moving from one room to another, unfastening shutters and throwing them back against the walls. Hannah pushed open the French doors that led to the garden and breathed in deeply. Green tresses trailed down from the bougainvillea overhead, stroking her hair and tickling her cheek. The scent of lavender and pine was immediately familiar from their previous holidays abroad, confirming they were somewhere exotic and colourful, far removed from the unseasonal chill and drizzle they’d left behind in England.
‘We ought to keep the shutters closed,’ said Nick. ‘It’s so hot the place will be like an oven.’
Hannah knew he was right, but it was wonderful to see sunshine. There had been flooding again at home this summer: relentless weeks of rain that had filled up reservoirs and rivers, washed the tarmac from roads, swept away bridges and cascaded into people’s homes. Just last night, they’d watched news footage of farmers rescuing stranded sheep and shop owners using buckets to bail out storerooms. She was weary after hours of travelling, but so happy to have got away from the miseries of August in England.
She turned her face towards the sky and felt the heat soak into her skin.
‘Hey, look at this!’ Nick had opened the fridge. ‘There’s a bottle of wine – local vineyard by the looks of it – and some cheese. Plus, a bowl of olives. Isn’t that good of them? Very welcoming. I might have a bit now – I’m starving. That’s the trouble with getting up in the middle of the night for an early flight.’
‘We ought to wait until Lizzie and Marcus get here,’ said Hannah, coming back inside. ‘That might be the only food we have until we get to a supermarket.’
‘Yes, good point,’ said Nick, his mouth full of olives. He sat down at the table and pulled the bowl towards him. ‘I’ll just have a couple more, to keep me going.’
Alice came thundering down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. ‘I like the bedroom with the red carpet. There’s a cute dressing table, which you wouldn’t use, but Suzy and I could put our stuff there.’
‘I’ll go up and take a look in a minute,’ said Hannah.
‘Yes, but I really want that one.’
‘Well, let’s see. Auntie Lizzie needs to be able to choose too.’ Although actually, thought Hannah, since her family was here first, it was only fair they got to pick the bedrooms they liked. She should go up and stake her claim before the others arrived; if she’d already started unpacking, Lizzie couldn’t make a fuss.
Jimmy wandered in through the French doors.
‘What’s it like out there?’ said Nick, finishing the olives.
The boy put his head to one side. ‘It’s okay. There’s a big lawn and lots of bushes around the outside. There’s a pool too – but with something in it.’
‘What do you mean, something in it?’ asked Hannah.
‘Water, possibly?’ asked Alice, picking at the cheese Nick had taken out of the fridge.
‘Don’t be sarcastic,’ said Hannah. ‘And leave some of that for the others.’
Jimmy stuck his hands in the pockets of his shorts. ‘No, something in the water. A body.’
They stared at him.
‘A body?’ repeated Nick.
‘Yes. Floating in the water.’ Jimmy stood on one leg, lifting the other to scratch the back of his calf.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Nick, getting up from the bench. ‘Do you mean some kind of animal?’
‘He’s being stupid,’ said Alice. ‘Of course there isn’t a body in the pool.’
Jimmy frowned at his sister. ‘Go and look then,’ he said. ‘It’s got hair and everything.’
‘Idiot,’ she muttered, hopping off the table and marching into the garden.
‘It’s just floating in there,’ said Jimmy. He walked to the table and picked up a lump of cheese.
Hannah caught Nick’s eye and raised her eyebrows; it would be a dead mouse, possibly even a rat. Not pleasant, but something Nick could deal with. She smiled and ruffled Jimmy’s hair. She loved the way his mind worked: a host of stories were constantly being created inside this seven-year-old head, a fantastical world of adventure and drama that had little to do with real life. Alice had never been like this; she was literal and down to earth, refusing – even as a small girl – to let her imagination run riot. ‘But it’s not true!’ Hannah remembered her yelling, after they’d taken her to see Peter Pan. ‘There aren’t any fairies!’
Jimmy picked at a corner of the cheese, working free another lump with his filthy fingernails. ‘I like this,’ he said. ‘It’s better than the one we have at home.’
‘Good, isn’t it?’ said Nick. ‘I might have…’
The scream sliced through the room, making them jump. Hannah dropped the knife onto the table and turned towards the French doors. ‘Alice…?’
The pool was to the left, hidden behind a hedge threaded with a rambling vine. They could see sparkling water through an arched opening. By the time they got to the pool, Alice’s scream had turned into a whimper.
The four of them stood, lined up along the edge. Hannah put one arm around Alice, her other hand reaching out to grab Nick’s shoulder.
‘Bloody hell.’
‘Do you think it’s dead?’
‘Of course it’s dead, it’s floating.’
‘Oh God, what do we do?’
‘It’s disgusting!’ sobbed Alice. ‘Why’s it in there?’
The body was suspended in the centre of the pool, spread-eagled face down, as if it had done a belly flop into the water. All four limbs were sticking out to the sides; it was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved top, which could have been grey or blue, the exact colour hard to determine now the material was stained dark by the water. The back of the head was covered in short brown hair, wisps splayed on either side.
Jimmy walked along the side of the pool, his hands pushed into the pockets of his shorts. ‘Shall we turn it over, to see if it’s a man or a lady?’ he asked.
‘No!’ Alice wailed.
‘We mustn’t touch anything,’ said Nick. ‘Come away. We need to call the police. God, this is dreadful. Hannah, you’d better do the talking, your French is better than mine.’
But she couldn’t move. Her heart was pounding so viciously it seemed to shake her entire body, palpitations thrusting their way into her throat, making it hard to swallow. She wanted to turn away – it was obscene to be staring at this shape floating in the water – yet she couldn’t drag her eyes from it. Maybe it wasn’t real? But it had to be: the body was big and clearly heavy, the clothing waterlogged, although the whole thing was strangely buoyant.
‘Hannah?’
She nodded, tried to lick her lips which were so dry they felt stuck together. ‘Yes, you’re right, we need to call someone. Let’s do it now.’ She took a deep breath and turned to face Nick. He was staring back at her, his eyes wide, his cheeks pale. He grabbed her hand and they turned and went back through the arch towards the house, Alice running to catch up. ‘Don’t leave me there on my own!’
Even with the shutters open, the kitchen now felt dark and gloomy when they walked back into it. Hannah’s bag was on the table, her phone at the bottom, hidden amongst magazines, bags of sweets, passports and the sachets of salt, pepper and tomato ketchup that Jimmy had insisted on taking from their meal trays on the plane. She hadn’t bothered to switch on the phone since they landed, so it took a few seconds before the home screen came up. Then the handset pinged as texts flooded in from the network provider, letting her know that she was abroad – in case she hadn’t realised – that she could use her phone as normal, and that it was going to cost her a small fortune to do so.
‘For fuck’s sake, I just want to make a call,’ she muttered. Her fingers were trembling as she swiped to get rid of the messages. ‘What do I dial? It can’t be 999.’
‘112,’ said Alice. ‘There was something on Insta. It’s an emergency number you can call anywhere in Europe.’
‘Good girl,’ said Nick. ‘Thank God for social media. Never thought I’d say that.’
When the call was answered, Hannah’s rusty A-level French deserted her. She tried to remember the word for body: it began with a G, or maybe a C? ‘Piscine!’ she said instead, hearing the squeak in her voice, the underlying note of hysteria. ‘Il y a quelque chose dans la piscine!’
Eventually she was passed to an operator who spoke English with no trace of an accent, and she launched into a garbled explanation.
‘The address, Nick, where are we?’ She held out her hand impatiently as he fished around in his pocket for the folded piece of paper giving directions from the airport.
After she’d ended the call, they sat around the kitchen table, staring at each other. Nick kept shaking his head in disbelief. ‘I just don’t get it,’ he said. Hannah looked at the lines stretching across his forehead. He suddenly looked so old; why had she never noticed those deep furrows before?
‘I feel properly sick this time,’ said Alice, slumping across the table. Her face was streaked with tears and her lower lip was still wobbling. ‘This is so awful. Do you think it’s someone who lived nearby?’
‘God knows,’ said Nick, running his hand through his hair. ‘I’m not even sure if it’s a man or a woman.’
‘It’s a man,’ said Jimmy, from the doorway. He was holding the long-handled leaf skimmer that had been lying beside the pool, a couple of small twigs trapped in its white netting. ‘He’s got really big feet.’
‘Jimmy, what are you doing with that?’ said Hannah.
‘I used it to move him around a bit, he goes quite fast in the water when you give him a push.’
‘For goodness’ sake!’
‘Jimmy, you mustn’t!’
Hannah and Nick moved forward at the same time.
‘It’s okay,’ he said, backing out of the doors. ‘He always ends up in the middle, whichever way I push him. I’ll show you.’
He walked back out into the garden and Nick followed, Alice clinging on to his arm. Hannah didn’t want to go back out, but she didn’t want to stay on her own in the kitchen either. Jimmy led the way through the gap in the hedge, and the four of them stood looking into the pool again.
The body hadn’t moved far, its outspread limbs resembling a giant letter X. The water was still, unruffled by the breeze, and seemed to lap up to the body and flow over it, suspending it in the centre of the pool. Hannah couldn’t help noticing the trainers on the extended feet: they looked huge, the soles shiny, as if they’d been washed clean by the sparkling water.
Jimmy plunged the leaf skimmer below the surface and nudged the shoes. ‘They’re Adidas, like mine,’ he said solemnly. ‘They’re meant to be waterproof, but I think that man’s a bit stupid to have gone swimming in them.’