At the Water's Edge

 

Chapter Forty-three

 

 

 

 

 

The next thing I was aware of was Angus’s mouth covering mine, followed by me vomiting water. He flipped me onto my side and a spasm ripped through my rib cage, sending another stream of water flying from my nose and mouth. I drew a hoarse, gurgling breath—my first since going under.

 

Angus pulled me into a sitting position and wrapped his coat around me.

 

“What the hell?” said Hank, ducking out from beneath his raincoat tent. “Jesus Christ—what happened? Maddie, are you okay?”

 

“No, she’s not okay,” Angus barked. “She’s half-drowned and frozen. Give me your coat.”

 

Hank struggled out of it and thrust it at Angus. “What happened? I didn’t even see her go in.” He looked at me again. “My God, her hands and face are blue.”

 

Angus wrapped me in the second coat and scooped me into his arms.

 

“I’m taking her to the corn-drying kiln,” he said. “It’s the intact room in the opposite wall. Run as fast as your legs will carry you to the first white house to the north. It’s the McKenzies’ croft. Tell them what happened and have them send for the bobby. He’ll bring his car.”

 

As Angus carried me through the Water Gate, holding my head against his shoulder, I looked back at the loch.

 

Ellis was still in the boat, paddling like a madman with a single oar. The other was floating away from him.

 

 

Hank returned with Mhàthair, the two of them bustling in with armfuls of quilts and blankets. Before I knew it, Mhàthair had replaced the coats and swaddled me like a baby, depositing me on the edge of the ancient kiln and then sitting right next to me, pulling the edges of her own coat as far around me as they’d reach. I leaned against her, quaking with the cold, alternately drawing shallow breaths and coughing violently.

 

Angus wrapped a blanket around his drenched clothes like a kilt and paced. Each time I was wracked by coughs, he rushed over to prop me up so Mhàthair could thump my back.

 

Hank crouched against the wall, pale. After a while, he climbed to his feet.

 

“I suppose I’ll go see if I can get that fool back on dry land,” he said.

 

“If I were you,” said Angus, “I’d grab my camera and leave that amadain right where he is.”

 

“I know that was a pretty rotten trick he tried to pull on you, but surely you don’t want him to drown out there,” Hank said.

 

“I would like nothing more,” said Angus, “although I expect he’ll find his way back, if only to take care of the evidence.”

 

“If you mean the camera, I think it’s pretty well protected by my raincoat.”

 

“I do indeed mean the camera. But it’s not the rain it needs protecting from. In addition to anything else you might have captured on film was your friend’s attempt to murder his wife.”

 

“What? No. That’s ridiculous.” After a slight pause, Hank jerked around to face me. “Maddie, is that true?”

 

I managed to nod.

 

He stared at me for a few seconds as understanding dawned. Then he turned and marched out the door.

 

From my perch on the kiln, I had a perfect view of the Water Gate. Hank crashed through the weeds, paused beneath its arch, and looked down at the landing. Then he bellowed like a wild animal and tore down the hill. There were several minutes of angry shouting, amplified by the water but none of it comprehensible.

 

When Hank reappeared, he was changed. He plodded back to the kiln room with his face pointed at the ground and his shoulders slouched. His arms didn’t even swing. He looked like an upright corpse.

 

He slid down the wall until he was crouching against it. He looked at the floor between his legs, resting his forearms on his knees and letting his hands dangle. They were bloodied and scraped.

 

“He made it back before I got there,” he finally said. “He threw the camera in the loch.”

 

The rest of us remained silent.

 

He looked at me, his eyes bleak. “You tried to tell me and I didn’t listen. I thought I knew him. Can you ever forgive me?”

 

I remained huddled against Mhàthair, not even attempting a response.

 

“No, of course you can’t,” Hank continued. “I can’t make it up to you, I know that. But I really didn’t know—I don’t even know when he found the time to slip off to the phone booth. We’re almost always together. But I swear, if he called the hospital as well as the courthouse, I won’t let them take you anywhere.”

 

“You!” Angus sputtered. “You won’t even get a crack at the bastart who’s fool enough to show up trying to take Maddie away. Someone’s brains will get scrambled, I promise you that. And I’ll scramble the whole of that coward at the bottom of the slope, brains and all, while I’m at it. He’d better hope Bob the Bobby locks him up right quick, before I get the opportunity.”

 

Hank watched Angus while he spoke, then dropped his head again.

 

When Bob showed up, Angus carried me to the car, and Mhàthair and Hank followed. No one suggested we get Ellis.

 

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