The Dark Lake

‘Thanks, Paul. You too.’ I feel a little light-headed.

‘Toilet,’ I say to Scott. He’s showing Murray and Doug recent pictures of Ben on his phone and barely looks up.

I close the bathroom door and lock it. Then I lean against it and look up at the ceiling, where an old fan is creaking in slow circles. I’m drunk already. I go to the toilet and feel a little better. I don’t think I’ve eaten since the cake at Carol’s this morning. My stomach is creased from the waistband of my stockings. I take them off and shove my feet into my boots without socks. I need to shave my legs but I figure no one will notice in the dark. I wipe the skin under my eyes, removing a fine black film that has formed there from the heavy eyeliner. I blot at my face with some toilet paper and check my teeth, pushing my hair behind my ears. The ivy crown I made looks limp and silly in the harsh bathroom light. I wash my hands and notice that the handwash fragrance doesn’t match the description on the expensive-looking bottle and I feel a little better.

I walk back across the lawn towards Scott.

Fee sidles up to me, cradling a bottle of wine.

‘So how’s it all going, Gemma? With work?’ She speaks carefully, as if she’s holding up each word and considering it before allowing it to be spoken out loud. A sharp line of fake tan cuts across her left breast where her top has edged down. ‘Things like this dead teacher must be so intense. I can’t even imagine.’ She leans closer and I see the pores on her nose clogged with foundation. ‘Do they let you see dead bodies?’ She shudders. ‘It must be horrible.’

I sip at the wine she pours for me. My velvet dress is suffocating and I pull at the high neck. Fee’s eyes are wide, glinting with the possibility of gory details.

‘It’s my case. I do whatever I like.’ My hip unexpectedly gives way and I stumble on the spot. ‘Whoops.’

Fee bleats out a laugh. ‘Oh. Well, that’s nice.’

‘I go to the gym with the guy who found her in the lake,’ Fox speaks quietly, appearing behind my shoulder. ‘He’s pretty messed up.’ I remember the same voice a lifetime ago, so gentle but always so serious.

‘Hey, Fox,’ I say. He’s so close I can feel his breath on my ear.

Fee yanks up her top and raises her eyebrows at us. ‘I’m just going to change the music.’

Scott waves at me from across the yard. He looks rounder in this light: like a bunch of circles stacked on top of each other, his head bobbing on the top. I didn’t realise he’d put on so much weight. We’ve all put on weight, I think as I look around. My thighs are sweaty and rub against each other. My underwear is damp and my skin crawls. I wonder if Fox can see the dark rings under my arms.

‘Mm.’

Fox laughs. ‘What?’

I breathe out through my lips, making them vibrate. ‘I don’t know.’

‘What’s up?’

‘I’m drunk,’ I say.

Fox lights a cigarette. ‘I can see that.’

‘It was an accident.’

‘Whoops.’

‘Yeah.’

‘So tell me. Is it weird?’ He narrows his eyes at me.

‘Is what weird?’

‘Trying to work out who killed her?’

I look sharply at him, and for a moment, in the half-light, it seems as though the left side of his face is missing. I look back to the party. ‘That’s a stupid thing to say.’

‘Maybe. Sorry.’ He waves his hands as if trying to erase his words. ‘I guess I just remember a time when you wanted to kill her yourself. Ergo, this must be a little odd.’

‘That’s not true,’ I hiss. ‘Don’t say that.’

Fox shrugs. ‘It was a long time ago.’

He offers me a drag of his cigarette. I shake my head and he shrugs again.

‘I want my own one,’ I say, and I see his lips curl in a smirk.

‘Sure.’ He lights one and holds it out to me, his fingers brushing against mine as I take it from him.

I remember him coming around to my house after Jacob died. Holding my hand as we sat on the couch. I almost told him everything, but my throat froze and I couldn’t think how to explain it all, the weirdness that had taken me over, what I’d done, so instead we sat there in uncomfortable silence until I told him I just wanted to go to sleep. He held me too tight, kissed me on the forehead, then on my shoulder, then on my face, but I pulled away and he left. It’s never been the same between us since. I feel uneasy around him. Stressed.

I look up at him now—the same softly curling sandy hair, light tan, dark eyes. A little heavier and a bit rougher perhaps; his baby face has hardened, the hairs that form his light stubble are thick and wiry. My lips fall open as I look up at him. I want him to want me in that moment.

Fox takes a long drag of his cigarette, watching me.

I remember the smell of school lunchboxes, Friends episodes and Slurpees. Jacob.

Squeals break out across the yard. Fee has started a limbo game. Her breasts wobble as she bends backwards, shuffling towards the broomstick that Julia and Scott are holding. It’s crooked and hits her on the chest, and she laughs hysterically, falling backwards onto the grass. From here it appears Scott is looking down her top. He pulls her up in a light hug and they are both laughing. The smoke is sticking to my skin. I haven’t had a cigarette in years and I float a little as I inhale.

‘Get me a beer?’

Fox nods. ‘Sure.’

He comes back with a bottle of Carlton Draught. ‘For old times’ sake. A classic.’

The cold floods through me and my nerves sing. ‘God, I needed that.’

‘Come with me.’ He walks towards the side of the house.

‘What?’

He doesn’t stop.

‘Okay, I’m coming. Fox, what? What is it?’

We stand where the light doesn’t reach. ‘I don’t know … Look.’ He grabs my hands. ‘I guess I’ve just been thinking about Jacob a lot lately. Not sure why. Maybe ’cause of this Rose Ryan stuff or maybe ’cause it’s been ten years. Don’t know.’

He’s stepping from foot to foot. I look back to the yard. Shadows from the limbo game dance across the fence. Someone has turned the music up and people are singing off-key to Mariah’s Christmas anthem.

‘I even went to his grave last week,’ says Fox.

‘You did?’

‘You’ve never been, have you?’

I swig at my beer and the bubbles fizz up into my nose. ‘I don’t really see the point.’

He laughs. ‘Oh, Gem. You’re so tough. Tougher than all of us. I cared about you so much, did you know that? I cared about Jacob too, but you more. I still don’t think what happened makes sense. That’s what I’ve been thinking about. It never made sense, did it? Why he would do that. And then when I heard she’d died, I just felt like, I don’t know. Like maybe it had something to do with her all along. It’s like she was a witch.’

A fist grips my heart. It’s squeezing tighter and tighter. Any more and I might explode.

‘Don’t be stupid, Fox. She wasn’t magic!’

He lights another cigarette and the smoke finds its way into my lungs. The longing I have for the past swells in my chest and I force it away.

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