Gillian Galbraith - Where The Shadow Falls

A message was passed in sign language from diver to diver, hand touching mask, that a circle was to be formed; and, obediently, the students huddled in a tight ring with the instructor in the middle. Each of them then, in turn, flooded and cleared their masks and demonstrated some vestigial understanding of neutral buoyancy. Alice attempted to hover motionless in the water, awaiting her go, and became aware of an unwelcome sensation. Cold water was trickling down the neck of her dry suit, weaving between her shoulder blades, headed for her buttocks. Sticking a thumb up to signal her impending ascent, she attempted to catch the instructor’s attention, but he, too, could only see things in front of his nose and was concentrating on assessing Bridget’s cack-handed attempt to buddy-breathe with him. The trickle of water now becoming a flood, Alice decided to make for the surface, freeing her hands roughly from her startled companions and rising at an increasing speed. She broke the water about five metres south of the buoy, blood seeping from her nostrils, overjoyed to rejoin the fresh, clear, sunlit world.

In the warmth of the Harbour Cafe she sipped her coffee, teeth still chattering like castanets, whilst Bridget busied herself examining their open water certificates.

‘What nnn… next,’ Alice asked, ‘… you… you going to become an advanced one… or even a dive master… er, mistress?’

‘Not likely,’ Bridget replied perkily, ‘I told you, I am going to check out electrical engineering classes. I need some sparks in my life.’

‘So you’re not going to do more of this… ddd… diving stuff, then?’

‘God, no! It’s far too cold and unpleasant for me. Did you hear what they’ve promised us next? Coldingham! I don’t care if the water is as clear as crystal there, which I doubt, wild horses wouldn’t persuade me to attend for another jolly minibus excursion with…’ she hesitated momentarily, ‘our new friends. If I can’t get into electrical engineering, plumbing sounds…’

‘Congratulathions, ladieth!’ Uninvited, the waste entrepreneur took a seat at their table and beamed broadly at them both, exposing toothless gums. ‘Unfortunately, I failed thith time, broke my dentureth on my regulator, thadly. Ith the thelery thoup good, Bridget?’

Bridget caught Alice’s eye, gave the extended arm diving signal for ‘danger’ while ostensibly stretching for her shoulder bag, muttered, ‘My phone’s going, I’ll have to answer it,’ and jerked her head in the direction of the exit for a joint retreat. Alice, however, remained seated, smiling fixedly at the man, concerned that he should not be publicly abandoned, leper-like, among their mutual acquaintances. He had chosen to join them after all.

‘Tho… eh… eh…?’

‘Alice,’ she reminded him.

‘Indeed, tho Alith…’ he smiled again, apparently keen to please, ‘have you got your friend Bridget’th number?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she lied. Kinder to extinguish all hope.

He took a gulp of his cappuccino, surfacing with the creamy lips of a black-and-white minstrel, and then scanned the entire room. ‘Oh… there’th Thuthan, I’ll think I’ll go and join her, thee how she got on.’

So saying he picked up his tray and lumbered off in the direction of a plump blonde, leaving Alice, leper-like, alone amongst their acquaintances.

Rain had transformed the cottage and its surroundings. The dried-up river-bed was awash with torrents of muddy water, and the yard in front of the cottage had become a quagmire, a patchwork of puddles in which the duck and her offspring were dabbling, raindrops bouncing off them as if they were made of plastic. Alice stepped carefully out of the vehicle, inadvertently landing in a runnel of rainwater and sinking heel-deep in mud. Although only seconds passed before she reached the shelter of the porch, she was drenched, hair sticking to her forehead, legs splashed to the knee. Mrs Norris appeared quickly and recognised her from their previous encounter.

The old sheets of newspaper on the kitchen floor were now torn, sodden with muck from outside, and she was busy replacing them, a dry stack ready beside the ancient Raeburn. Her dejected state became obvious the moment she opened her mouth, her voice sounding flat, drained of all vivacity.

‘I know Colin’s still at the station helping you, his mother told me, and she warned me to expect another visit.’

Alice smiled, attempting to reassure her. ‘It’s simply that you may be able to help us with our enquiries. Possibly, help Colin too.’

Loud music, all heavy drum rhythms and shrieking electric guitars, could be heard coming ever closer, and Jason and Rosanna traipsed in, radios in hand, and began grappling with chairs at the kitchen table as if they intended to have their breakfast there.

‘Out, out to the cabin, please, sweetheart, and you too, Jason… you can collect any cereal or whatever you need from here, but I have to talk to the Sergeant again and in peace and quiet.’

Neither of them made a move, the music continued to blare and Jason began to pour milk into a mug.

‘I said OUT!’ Mrs Norris shouted, and the teenagers’ startled expressions testified to the rarity of such an outburst. The boy, having recovered his sang froid first, made a revolving gesture with his index finger by his temple and they slouched out in unison, staring at Mrs Norris as if she had sprouted horns, increasing the volume of the music in defiance.

Mrs Norris sat down and Alice took a chair opposite hers.

‘I need to know where you were between about seven and ten on the night of Monday 12th June, if possible,’ she began.

‘Can’t you tell me first what this is all about?’ the woman beseeched.

‘Not at the moment. I’d rather, please, get your answers to my questions, and after that I’ll explain what we’re concerned about.’

Hilary Norris walked over to the Raeburn and removed a grimy calendar from a shelf on the extractor hood.

‘I live by this. I’d be lost without it. We write down any appointments, social stuff… everything on it. Colin hasn’t got a diary either, and Rosanna relies on me completely.’ She turned back the pages to June and read “WI. Smoke.” Yes, I remember… I went to my WI meeting, there was a talk about dyeing and spinning wool, I won the garden gem competition that evening. Then I drove to Perth and waited outside Smoke- it’s a club-to pick up Rosanna when she came out.’

‘So you were away from the house. Between what hours?’

‘Probably left at about 6 pm and… well, Rosanna is always reluctant to leave, so we wouldn’t get back until, maybe, 2 am or so.’

‘Did Rosanna leave to go to Smoke from here?’

‘No, she was at Jason’s house, in Kinross. They had tea and then left there together.’

Alice nodded. ‘Do you know where Colin was that night?’

‘You saw, Sergeant, there was nothing in the calendar for him. So he’d be here.’

‘And on the night of Wednesday 5th July, can you tell me where you were between about eight and ten?’

The woman sighed, picking up the calendar again. ‘Riding. Film.’

The telephone rang and she picked it up. ‘Yes, speaking,’ she rubbed her forehead distractedly. ‘Has it not been paid? No, no. I see. And how much for did you say? Mmm. Well, I’ll send off a cheque today and I do apologise.’

‘Riding. Film?’ Alice reminded her.