I shrugged. ‘I guessed as much.’
‘So I really don’t see how a private call would be possible.’ Henry explained gently.
‘She hasn’t tapped my mobile though, has she?’
‘No, I would assume she hasn’t,’ Finn said through a mouthful of condensed-milk sandwich. ‘But unless you came over here with a Motorola bunged up your arse, I would say that’s not especially helpful.’
‘Actually, I would hope that it’s still safely where I left it, in the glove compartment of my Jag.’
Finn smiled. ‘Oh, your Jag. Of course. That’ll be the Jag that’s on the other side of the bloody lake, is it?’
That’s the one.’
Finn shook his head. ‘And how the fuck do you intend to get hold of it? Fuckin’ swim?’
The three of us sat in complete silence. Floorboards creaked and expanded as they began to warm with the sparse heat of the day, the grandfather clock in the dining hall chimed a muffled half-hour, and Finn and Henry both stared at me as if I had lost my wits.
Finally, Finn spoke. ‘Jesus, you’re serious.’
Chapter Twenty Eight
Lilith
The day Blaine left for Paris, winter came to Albermarle. It launched its assault straight from Siberia, bringing a ferocious storm that uprooted a dozen ancient trees across the estate and scattered slate tiles and a chimney stack from the roof of the hall. Finn and I spent a sleepless night listening to the gale wreak its devastation, and the next day we emerged from our beds to ice on the insides of the windows and a chill that cut us both to the marrow. This new landscape was bleak and frost-blasted, but Blaine had left, and now at last I could act.
*****
‘I’ve never seen the lake like this,’ Finn said.
It was two o’clock in the morning. Blaine was in Paris and Coyle O’ Halloran – never one to learn a lesson, we hoped – was holed up in a guestroom, near-comatose on dope, cheap whiskey and barley wine, foolishly confident that his charges wouldn’t dare deceive him a second time.
Finn and I hid in the island boatshed and gazed out into the darkness as foam-topped waves rushed to the shingle and broken branches floated and tossed in the churning water. I wore a swimming costume and child’s wetsuit that had once belonged to Blaine’s daughter, and a down-filled jacket wrapped around my shoulders, yet I could still feel the north wind bore into my skin.
‘This is why I’m an atheist.’ A thin sleet began to pattern the surface of the lake.
Finn was hunched over a small paraffin lantern. ‘I don’t get you.’
‘We’re the good guys, Finn. If there is a god up there, she should be on our side. Instead, right now she would appear to be backing Blaine bloody Albermarle, and I’m not prepared to believe that.’
Finn placed the lantern on the damp wooden floor, tucking it into a corner where there was no risk that it could be seen from the hall. He put his arms around my shoulders and pulled me in so that his chin rested on the crown of my head. ‘You don’t have to do this, Lili. I know I’m wasting my breath saying it, but I can’t lose you. If it comes down to something happening to you out there, or me staying here for the rest of my life...’
‘...Then I’d lose you, and I can’t do that.’ I buried my face in the warmth of his fleece shirt and kissed his chest. ‘We’ve been through this. It’s not as risky as it looks. Honestly,’ I tried to reassure us both. ‘I’ve swum ten times that distance before, and I’m in better shape than I’ve ever been in my life.’ This at least was true; my daily runs across the island’s hard terrain had served as perfect training for what I was about to do. Even my asthma had finally begun to wane as I regained control of my life, although my inhaler was still safely bagged and tucked in a pouch inside my neoprene suit, right next to my car keys.
I thought Finn might have one last attempt at dissuading me, but he finally released his grip. ‘Then I’ll be right here, waiting.’ He smiled. ‘If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s hangin’ around on dodgy corners in the middle of the night.’
I mustered a grin in return and shrugged out of my coat. ‘Let’s get going then,’ I said, and strode barefoot into the lake.
‘Fuuuck...’ The profanity melted on my lips as I waded up to my waist. In these first moments it felt as though liquid nitrogen was being injected into the space between wetsuit and skin and I forced myself to exhale. I allowed myself one backward glance at Finn, then lifted my feet from the slime and shingle of the lakebed, and swam.