The Dark Lake

‘Okay, okay. Just tell me what happened. I know you went to the play.’

‘Afterwards, I saw her looking at her phone and I knew she was waiting for him to call her. My son. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I saw her go to leave and I followed her around the side of the library and said I needed to talk to her. Told her to come with me or I would tell everyone everything. I said that Rodney had a diary, that I would show the police. That I would destroy her. That terrified her. She knew what she was doing was wrong. She was so worried about her precious reputation.

‘We came to the lake right near where my Jacob died. She wouldn’t listen to me. The stupid bitch wouldn’t hear a word about what she did to Jacob and said she didn’t know anything about sending him a letter. But I saw it with my own eyes! I read it! She broke my son’s heart with that note and it made him crazy. He was fine before he got messed up with her. But she kept saying she didn’t know anything about it. She said what happened wasn’t her fault and that he’d broken her heart.’

Donna’s mouth twists into an awful sneer. ‘Broken her heart. How dare she.’

My own heart thumps alarmingly. I look back at the gun and consider leaping at her to grab it but I’m too far away. Too weak. Rodney watches his mother as if in a trance.

‘Then what happened?’ I whisper.

The wind lifts the trees and specks of moonlight dance on her face. ‘She said she loved Rodney. That it was real. That he wanted to be with her. That he loved her. That they wanted to have a new life away from Smithson. That once he was eighteen they could do what they liked. She was so smug, so sure of herself. I couldn’t stand it.’

‘Donna, did you hit her?’

Donna’s left hand clenches into a fist and the resolve on her face crumbles. ‘She tried to step around me to leave. I pushed her backwards and she laughed at me and said she was going to meet Rodney, and that there was nothing I could do about it. That he was almost an adult and I had to accept it. Her, lecturing me on my son. She pushed past me and I just bent down and grabbed a rock and I … I …’ Donna’s voice cracks roughly. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt her but I knew Rodney was coming and she was screaming and I hit her again and sort of grabbed her throat. I just wanted her to be quiet. To stop screaming. To go away.’

Donna keeps the gun trained on me as thick lines of tears glint on her hollow cheeks. ‘She was going to take away everything I have. I just wanted her gone.’

My eyes are starting to close. I shift a little, trying to jolt myself awake. I don’t have much time. ‘Donna. Did you touch her after she was on the ground?’

Her jaw is clenching continuously and her arms holding the gun are shaking. ‘I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to make it look like someone had … attacked her, so I ripped her skirt, pulled up her clothes and took her underwear. It wasn’t real.’ She starts to cry again. ‘It didn’t matter to her anymore. I just wanted it all to go away.’ The gun is still on me but she looks at Rodney, pleading.

‘Did you put her into the water?’

‘I just thought it would be better. She was already dead! I thought maybe the police would think she hit her head and drowned or was raped or something. I wasn’t thinking. No one would know what happened and Rodney could forget about her. We’d be left alone.’

My thoughts are still scrambled. ‘Donna, please, I can help you—and Rodney. But we need to go. We need to get Rodney to a safe place.’

‘No.’ She shakes her head manically. ‘I won’t let you take my son.’

I think about Ben and feel limp. I’m fading. ‘Come on, Donna,’ I whisper.

‘You’ll take him away from me.’

‘Donna, a woman is dead. You took my son. We need to make things right.’

Donna’s eyes flare. ‘I just wanted you to leave us alone. I thought that if you were scared of losing your son then you’d drop everything else. But you didn’t! You’re all obsessed with her. Obsessed with helping her. No one can see what she did! She tricked my sons. She was evil.’ Her voice drops. ‘I would never have hurt him. I was always going to bring him back to you. He’s beautiful, your little boy. Just like my boys at that age.’ She’s crying in earnest now, the gun pointing downward. Rodney is crying too, his noisy sobs mingling with hers.

I see writing everywhere. Pen nibs form words across the night, looping letters curl into my thoughts. The words are rolling up, faster and faster, like someone has left their finger on the down arrow. My eyes try to fix on what they say. I push my hands onto the ground and slowly pull myself onto my feet. The world tips sideways. ‘Donna, I …’ I teeter on the edge of a confession, try to think of a way to explain my foolish teenage actions. But what good would that do the universe right now? ‘I need you to come with me,’ I say instead.

‘No.’ The gun is back on me again.

‘Please. There’s no better way that this can end.’ I take an unsteady step towards her.

An anguished sob rips from her body. Her nostrils flare and her fingers tighten around the gun. Rodney screams at her to stop.

A noise explodes above us. Something falls from the sky and lands at Donna’s feet. She recoils as I pounce, the last of my energy surging through me. The gun glints intermittently in the darkness. Her eyes are icy madness. Rodney is on his feet too and I see Jacob standing next to him as I jump at her again. I clasp her bony frame, pushing her to one side. A shot rings out, and then another, and I land heavily and smack my head hard against the wood of the tower.

The cries of a wild animal fill my ears. Pain charges through my soul.

I hear another voice.

More screaming.

A face of soft dark velvet leans over me and then disappears. Someone is moving me, stroking my forehead, saying things I can’t seem to get a hold of. I let my head roll back and I see the moon, a giant glowing circle unmoving in the sky, and still there is the screaming, but then everything turns to red and the entire world seeps away.





Chapter Seventy-eight


I am curled in a ball on the slope of grass between the school and the oval. I want to go to the lake but I can’t seem to make my legs walk there. This spot seems like a good compromise. Jacob’s been dead for almost two weeks. I cannot comprehend not seeing him again. Every time I think about it, everything starts to dim as if the world is a TV screen turning off, so I spend most of the time trying not to think about it. Trying to do nothing and feel nothing. It is a bizarre existence, simply trying not to live. I stroke the grass. I wish I could fall asleep again; it’s the only thing that makes the pain stop.

For a few moments I think I am drifting towards the freedom of sleep and then I hear a cracking sound.

I snap my head up, uneasy.

Sarah Bailey's books