The Saddest Anchor (closed for DeliciousMaiden)

"Let's start with trying to talk with each other, if I was lead here by her there must be some reason."

She had pushed her juice aside and signalled to the waitress to bring another cup of coffee instead.

"The thing I hate is that I keep seeing glimpses of her, like a reflection...but I can't look directly at her, because I will see nothing...feel nothing."

Whereas Sarah had seen her, but had never wanted to ...

"So doctor, let's do the old Q and A, you ask, I answer and ask the same, that is how this will go down much easier."

She sighed.

"I don't see how that will help, but I've nothing to hide."

She smiled at the waitress as she brought a coffee pot and cup and gave a grin at her companion's disapproval.

"Let's get something to eat - soak up the caffeine ...?"

She ordered pancakes with syrup opting for a sweeter option and added a cinnamon pastry to the order.

"So ... you think your wife never left you? Or did she perhaps come back when you started drinking or ... trying to join her...?"

She suggested?

"Perhaps she's looking out for you?"

She was trying to make something logical out of something impossible ...

He shrugged,

"Just an idea. Would not like to get directed into a direction without knowing why."

He nodded as she mentioned that they should eat, but waved off the waitress as he did not want to eat.

"If she did not stay doc, then I am having delusions of gigantic proportions, I am mentally unstable and I find no solace in any of those two ideas."

He finished his coffee and poured the last into his cup, adding sugar,

"I think I need somebody to talk to right now and see if I really am as mad as I think I am."

"Just an idea. Would not like to get directed into a direction without knowing why.
If she did not stay doc, then I am having delusions of gigantic proportions, I am mentally unstable and I find no solace in any of those two ideas."

She wanted to tell him that in that case she too was going crazy, but he continued.

"I think I need somebody to talk to right now and see if I really am as mad as I think I am."

She nodded.

"What kind of somebody?"

She queried.

"A Doctor? Parapsychologist? Psychologist? Or ... just a friend .... "

She wasn't sure what exactly he needed, but didn't want to palm him off again.

"Either way, perhaps we should talk together because although you describe some pretty strange things happening, you only feel that she is around you ... I'm the one who has actually seen Grace ... "

She sipped her coffee.

"So if we're in competition for who is the most insane ... I think I have to insist on top billing Mr Moore ... "

He shook his head,

"Seeing her makes you mad? Then what about me experiencing all the strange things?"

He finished his coffee and looked at the empty cup and pot,

"Right now I'll settle with talking with you, doctor or otherwise, both ways work for me."

He chuckled and poured himself a cup from her pot,

"Right now I just want to know what to do with this, I know that if I keep drinking I'll die and the way I'm doing it most probably wouldn't go down all that well with the powers that are."

He scratched the stubble on his chin,

"So doc, where are you from? Why did you come to this town?"

"Seeing her makes you mad? Then what about me experiencing all the strange things? Right now I'll settle with talking with you, doctor or otherwise, both ways work for me."

She laughed.

"Two insane people trying to cure themselves? Sounds like a recipe for disaster to me ... "

She commented lightly.

"Right now I just want to know what to do with this, I know that if I keep drinking I'll die and the way I'm doing it most probably wouldn't go down all that well with the powers that are."

Sarah felt a shiver at his comment of 'powers that are', her eyes lifting to the windows as if expecting to see the dark haired woman watching them, but finding nothing sinister there ...

"So doc, where are you from? Why did you come to this town?"

She drained her own cup and pushed away the now empty plate.

"I'm a city girl. University based. The downside of being published is that anyone can find out your biographical details ... "

She told him referring to the internet page he had seen.

"... and why here? It was suggested that I might widen my experience by 'going into practice' for a short time whilst completing my paper. Dr Mathews turned out to be a friend of a friend ... and was more than willing for me to head here for 2 - 3 months."

She sighed.

"I've made great progress on my writing, but almost nothing practical."

She shrugged.

"I was intending to head back in a couple of weeks. I should be ready to submit my research by then and will probably seek out a full time practical secondment for 4 to 6 months before returning to work within the University again ... "

He nodded,

"So if you have made no practical headway I can start to understand why you have been referred to me since I am going through a dark period and of course..."

He scratched his stubbled jaw,

"Am on a very destructive path. One which I can feel calling me right now, but first I have to find out what allowed you to talk to me over a disconnected phone and what made me come here. Sure you're a very attractive woman and that alone would make any sane man come to see you, but at times I doubt my sanity, so is it curiosity which brought me here? Or perhaps something beyond my own control?"

"So if you have made no practical headway I can start to understand why you have been referred to me since I am going through a dark period and of course..."

She nodded.

"I'm had other more routine referrals, but actually they have been less polite than you in refusing my 'services'..."

She told him with a sigh.

"Am on a very destructive path. One which I can feel calling me right now, but first I have to find out what allowed you to talk to me over a disconnected phone and what made me come here."

She nodded and considered what the answer to that could possibly be.

"Sure you're a very attractive woman and that alone would make any sane man come to see you, but at times I doubt my sanity, so is it curiosity which brought me here? Or perhaps something beyond my own control?"

She blushed at the unexpected compliment and tried to focus back on the matter in hand.

"I guess we consider two lines of approach with this... either there is some electrical anomaly which allowed that connection to be made ... or ... "

She paused.

"... this is really linked with your wife and her spirit ... and some unfinished business she has with you ... "

She frowned.

" ... though I'm not sure what my role in all this would be ... perhaps I am just a distraction to throw you off your destructive path?"

She suggested, not intending it quite as that sounded.

"I mean ... anyone, even a stranger, could be an agent of change ... a way of diverting you from your established pattern of action and thoughts ... "

She clarified, then blushed still deeper.

"Sorry, I'm sounding like a psychologist now ... force of habit ... but just to make it clear ... all this is 'off the record' ... It's no one else's business, be they well-meaning neighbour or Doctor ... "

She had somehow moved her hand to cover his. It was important to her to reassure him, to establish that she was here as a ... friend ... or if not just a concerned individual ... even if it did seem that she somehow had been drawn into whatever was happening in his life.

He stared at her hand for a few seconds,

"Distraction...I think you're wrong there doc."

He looked up at her again,

"I think she needs you. You can see her, I can't. What if she needs you to direct the business?"

He pulled his hand from under her own and got up,

"I really need a drink right now."

He picked up the empty coffee pot and headed to the counter, returning with a full one a few moments later, he sat down again and poured himself another cup, sweetening it up with sugar. He pushed his hand through his hair, something he did when he frustrated.

"Look if this anomaly concerns us both, it means that mass hypnosis is out of the question, because then everybody in this town would see their dearly departed and that would cause mass-hysteria."

He made a motion, like it was a point taken care off and pushed aside,

"We don't know each other at all, yet you ended up on my doorstep not once, but two times now, we have contacted each other. Fate and coincidence aside, it is not purely professional as the fields that we travel in have nothing to do with each other, that leaves only one explanation right now, outside influences."

He tapped the table top with a finger,

"Electrical anomalies doesn't happen when the cord is about a foot removed from the device, unless it has to be a static influence that interferes with a device like perhaps a television or radio. Information doesn't just pop up onto a computer screen, especially not an internet page, when there is no connection for that machine to the internet in the first place."

He sipped the coffee and stared at her, a small smile crept over his lips,

"Being sober has it advantages."

"Distraction...I think you're wrong there doc. I think she needs you.
You can see her, I can't. What if she needs you to direct the business?"

It wasn't until he moved his hand as he got up that she realised that she had left her hand on his.

"I really need a drink right now."

She watched him stalk off in search of coffee and glanced out of the window reflecting upon what he had said. The idea that his dead wife's spirit needed her wasn't the explanation she was looking for. She didn't believe in all this paranormal stuff and if it just involved her she would quite happily walk away. But there was Johnathan to consider ...

She looked across as he took his seat once more and watched him pour yet another coffee. It seemed that Grace was driving them to caffeine overdose if nothing else.

"Look if this anomaly concerns us both, it means that mass hypnosis is out of the question, because then everybody in this town would see their dearly departed and that would cause mass-hysteria."

He seemed to be working through things logically. She in turn merely nodded agreeing with his reasoning.

"We don't know each other at all, yet you ended up on my doorstep not once, but two times now, we have contacted each other. Fate and coincidence aside, it is not purely professional as the fields that we travel in have nothing to do with each other, that leaves only one explanation right now, outside influences."

She wanted to make an argument for ... coincidence, circumstances, but he continued.

"Electrical anomalies doesn't happen when the cord is about a foot removed from the device, unless it has to be a static influence that interferes with a device like perhaps a television or radio. Information doesn't just pop up onto a computer screen, especially not an internet page, when there is no connection for that machine to the internet in the first place."

His words, the all-too-evident facts were indisputable. But she didn't like it.

"Being sober has it advantages."

She laughed mirthlessly.

"Perhaps, but it's me who could do with the drink now."

She told him.

"OK, so ... assuming we agree this is something ... paranormal ... then what?"

She put the question out there. What exactly did he expect from her.

"If you want professional support, it's not my field and Patrick or someone of that ilk would be best placed to assist ... "

She wanted nothing more than to hand this over.

"As a psychologist, this is all incompatible with my current practice, which gives me nowhere to go quite frankly."

She leaned back and looked him directly in the eye.

"Which leaves my 'personal' interest as someone who Grace seems to have drawn into this 'situation' ... "

She sighed heavily.

"And to be honest, I'm not sure what you're expecting me to do with that ... "

She didn't know how she was supposed to help him and, if she were honest, even if she wanted to get more involved than she already was.

He finished his coffee and pushed his empty cup aside,

"I think that you have to decide that for yourself, if you wish to help it will be out of the comfort zone of academics and into a very unknown."

He looked out of the window to the outside,

"I think I have said all that I can say doc, from here on it's up to you."

He turned his attention to her and gave her a friendly smile,

"Thank you for giving me a chance to talk to somebody, it helps to straighten my mind a bit."

He got up,

"I will be home, I have a novel to work on."

He paid for the breakfast and the coffee they both had used, as he stepped out of the diner, he could smell jasmine and he knew that Grace was there, somehow she had followed him there.

"Well then, hope this works out like you wanted it to."

"I think that you have to decide that for yourself, if you wish to help it will be out of the comfort zone of academics and into a very unknown. I think I have said all that I can say doc, from here on it's up to you."

It seemed that if nothing else they had reached an amicable enough state, though she still didn't quite know what to make of him.

"Thank you for giving me a chance to talk to somebody, it helps to straighten my mind a bit. I will be home, I have a novel to work on."

She watched in amazement as he paid for breakfast and watched as he walked out only belatedly moving herself into action and headed after him, reaching him just as he pulled open the door of his truck.

"Just a minute!"

She saw him turn, no doubt not expecting to see her.

"What exactly is supposed to happen now? Of course I want to help, but ... what can I do ... even if I manage to see Grace again, how is that going to help? You think she has some message, some instruction? What makes you think that I can get that through?"

She decided to put her cards on the table.

"The whole idea freaks me out Johnathan. It goes against everything I hold to be true."

She had no idea how he would react to her honesty.

"And if we're going to pursue this, surely we should get some expert direction rather than just plough on in ... aren't you worried about what might happen if this all goes horribly wrong?"

She didn't know why, but she had a feeling that though she had seen Grace that his wife wasn't exactly a 'peaceful' spirit and that her very presence was actually not doing Johnathan any good or helping him to move on.

He gave her a small smile and slipped on his sunglasses,

"You have my co-operation for now, call your friend, ask him what to do, I will co-operate as long as I don't have to destroy the house, I really enjoy working there."

He turned the ignition and rolled down the electric window, then he got in and buckled himself up.

"Like I said, if you wish to help further, it is all up to you, I will go along with mostly anything as long as it stays within reasonable boundaries."

He grinned suddenly,

"You do know that this would make a great story right?"

"You have my co-operation for now, call your friend, ask him what to do, I will co-operate as long as I don't have to destroy the house, I really enjoy working there."

He was still a pompous ass, she reflected as he got into his vehicle.

"Like I said, if you wish to help further, it is all up to you, I will go along with mostly anything as long as it stays within reasonable boundaries."

He was acting as if he was doing HER a favour! Yet just as she was beginning to grow annoyed with him once more, his grin cut through he frustration.

"You do know that this would make a great story right?"

She shook her head incredulously.

"Well, just as long as it's doing wonders for YOUR writing. Personally it's not helping the progress of my paper one little bit ... "

She told him turning and heading back to get behind her own steering wheel.
She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of watching him drive off and she was definitely heading back to her place for something decent to eat and most likely to hit the bottle of wine that was at that moment chilling in her fridge.
She slammed the gear leaver into reverse and pulled sharply backwards. From nowhere came the feeling that she was being watched, that somewhere to her right if she looked a dark haired woman would be standing, no doubt fixing her with an accusing stare.

"Fuck off Grace..."

She muttered uncharacteristically under her breath as she moved through the gears and sped off down the road in the opposite direction to Johnathan and all his troubles.

"Mission accomplished!"

She toasted herself, sipping at the 2nd, or was it the 3rd glass of chilled white wine? Johnathan Moore was sober and he was writing again. What more could anyone ask for? She had by far met her professional duties and as for the rest ...

She put down the glass and picked up one of the remaining slices of pizza nibbling on it reflectively. If she stayed away from the cabin then cooperative as he claimed to be it was unlikely that Johnathan would come and seek her out. Besides, she really did need to finish her paper and if staying here was proving too distracting well then she needed to head back to town sooner than expected. In fact there was no harm in planting the seeds for an earlier move back home right now, she decided pondering if she could get away with less than 2 weeks notice given that she wasn't actually engaged in delivering any therapy currently. .... ... except for Johnathan Moore ... her conscience pricked her, but her sense of self preservation kicked in and over rode it.

The sudden ringing of her mobile made her jump. Checking the caller ID she saw that it was Patrick.

"... shit ... "

She muttered and downed the remaining contents of the glass in one hit.

"Patrick ... hi ... "

She greeted him warily.

"No ... what do you mean wrong? Everything's fine ... "

She lied unconvincingly and bit back a sigh as he persisted to question her ...

He watched as she seemed to get all flustered and stormed off, even her driving proved her to be upset. He sighed and shook his head,

"Women."

He switched on his vehicle and after the customary trip to the liquor store, he headed back home, after unpacking his fresh supplies, he opened one of the JD bottles and headed to his computer with glass in hand. He spent the rest of the day writing, at times he could swear he felt Grace enter into his study as she would at time, always she came to silently perch on the edge of his desk and read what he was writing and left without comment. Unlike most writers who like to write the bare bones and then flesh out their story, he wrote it as a finished piece from start to finish.

Sunset found him outside, looking out over the lake as he sipped on his drink, the bottle was starting to grow rather empty, but he was far from drunk. As darkness settled in, he went back inside, made himself a quick supper and then headed back to his computer, his novel coming along nicely.

Grace Moore

Grace knew that John had met the woman at the diner. It wasn't that she could follow him everywhere, her tangible presence seemed tied to their home and yet she had observed as if from a distance their meeting, their shared breakfast and their less than harmonious parting, at least as far as the woman was concerned.

Eager as she had been for her husband to be in contact with the woman, Grace had mixed feelings about her. She wanted her husband safe and well, she wanted to communicate with him, to tell him all those things she hadn't had a chance to say to him before she was so suddenly taken from him. And much as she didn't want to see him desperate and grieving, she only wanted to use this Sarah Shelton as a bridge through which Grace could communicate with her husband. The idea of that woman being a source of comfort and companionship to John angered her.

So much so that Grace was almost happy that John came home alone and that he brought out his trusty bottle of JD from amidst the groceries. She might be a scholar, but hadn't done her husband any good, thus far, Grace reflected with some satisfaction, momentarily putting her own personal vanity above the welfare of her husband. But as the hours went on and the bottle emptied Grace moved restlessly through their house becoming increasingly frustrated with her inability to make her presence, her thoughts, her words known ...

His writing was taking off well. It was good even, she approved as she read through his work so far, leaving him to eat and down his whiskey out the front of their property. She supposed that losing himself in writing was progress, but it still didn't alter the fact that she was trapped in this suspended world of following his every move whilst he ...

For the first time she considered the possibility that he might somehow move forward and if so ... where did that leave her ...? Would that allow her to find peace? Surely not given that all she filled her days with now was the longing to be with him, to speak to him, to comfort him. How could things possibly be made right between them again...?

He could feel Grace's presence even if he could not see her, she was there with him and he pushed away from his computer when he smelled that scent of jasmine again,

"Grace...I know you're there. You set all of this up, you made the connection possible over an unplugged phone, you made a card move and you called up an internet page on a computer that wasn't plugged in."

For a moment he felt silly for talking to what seemed to be himself,

"Why don't you try and type? Leave at least a word on the computer? I mean it was something you did, you made your living out of it, just like I am making a living out of it right now."

He waited, when there was no response he gave a small sardonic smile, like he knew he would be talking to himself.

"Well babe, if you are listening, just try to let me know you're not hurting too much?"

He got up, saved the file and switched off the screen, heading for the bedroom

Sarah Shelton

It had been a difficult conversation even though Sarah’s consumption of those glasses of wine had made her less guarded in her responses to Patrick as he considered to question until she had no choice but to update him on the ‘developments’ as he termed them. Not that anything had happened, just a conversation with Johnathan where they seemed to have agreed that something illogical was happening and that she was as involved as he. He seemed to think Sarah could help, but Sarah found that not only was she far from qualified to offer assistance, but that in fact everything about this situation challenged the foundations of her scientific beliefs.

”Yet you saw her … “

Patrick pointed out patiently and sighed as he received no reply.

”How do you explain that, Sarah?”

She sighed.

”I don’t.”

She told him simply.

”And now the telephone and the computer. You can’t just ignore that.”

She knew he was right, but that made her even more determined not to be manipulated by events.

”It’s not my problem. There’s nothing I can do anyway.”

She could hear his exasperation.

”So you’re going to do nothing?”

Sarah hated the way he made her feel guilty, but responded calmly.

”So … I’m going to move back to Uni and finish my paper … I don’t need this kind of distraction … “

She heard him laugh.

”You don’t need anything that doesn’t fit nicely into ‘testable’ hypotheses.”

He told her uncompromisingly.

”Let’s face it Sarah, that was ever your issue.”

She frowned at his referral to their past, to the fact that they had clashed so often over their relative ‘disciplines’ that it had eventually pulled their relationship apart.

”I think the issue here Patrick is that you’re using this … these ‘freak incidences’ to justify a whole field of study when really … “

He interrupted her, his change of tone bringing him up short.

”Look babe, you’re freaked. Admit it.”

She bit her lip and remained silent.

”Why else would you have called me in the first place?”

He questioned reasonably.

”I know you, remember? And the fact that this is so far away from what you consider possible makes it even more likely to be real.”

He waited hearing the silence as Sarah seemed to consider his words.

”So, what do I do Patrick?”

She asked him finally …

John paused as he passed the bathroom, he went inside and brushed his teeth, then looking at himself in the mirror, he ran a hand over the stubble, Grace had him shave every day, she said she didn't want to get pricked when she hugged him. Well there was no Grace to hug now was there? He turned away and instead of the bed, he found himself a fresh bottle of whiskey and a glass, he sat down on the bed, resting his back against the headboard as he poured his first drink. He clicked on the television and it sprang to live, casting light into the dark room,

"In other news tonight, it was reported that after a long time of seclusion, John Moore, well-known author of Seven Hells, Belle, Legionaire and several other best seller books..."

He hit the off button, but the set refused to die,

"Have been spotted in the streets of..."

He clicked the channel selector and a movie adaption from his first best seller popped up, he sighed and lifted his glass at the flat screen,

"Well then, to great memories."

He downed the glass and without pause, poured himself another

Sarah Shelton

Despite the alcohol, Sarah fell into a deep, but uneasy sleep. She tossed and turned, images and words crowding her mind, but when she awoke she could remember nothing apart from a heavy feeling of unease made all the worse by a thudding headache and exhaustion. She couldn’t even face coffee and resorted to water and then finally fruit juice. She grimaced as she saw the empty bottle of wine; sure it was only a single bottle, but for her it was much more than her body could tolerate. Fresh air was what she needed, she decided and so after a quick shower and pulling on jeans and a baby pink sweatshirt she headed downstairs and headed out figuring she’d walk for a while and maybe head to a local diner for late breakfast or lunch if and when she felt better…

Grace Moore

"Grace...I know you're there. You set all of this up, you made the connection possible over an unplugged phone, you made a card move and you called up an internet page on a computer that wasn't plugged in… Why don't you try and type? Leave at least a word on the computer? I mean it was something you did, you made your living out of it, just like I am making a living out of it right now.
Well babe, if you are listening, just try to let me know you're not hurting too much?"

Grace had indeed made her husband aware of her presence, but try as she might she couldn’t type, couldn’t leave him the message she so longed to send to him. It seemed that her influence was limited to drawing her husband and that Sarah woman together. Her heart broke as he spoke of her ‘hurting’. She wasn’t in pain. In many ways even the passing of time seemed to fluctuate and seemed linked to Johnathan and his crises and of course now upon his meetings with Sarah.

Still her feelings towards the woman were ambivalent. On one hand Sarah seemed compassionate and concerned about Johnathan’s drinking and grief and yet she hadn’t returned with him or offered any assistance in putting husband and wife in touch with each other. Grace sensed the young blonde’s reluctance, her fear even, but felt very little sympathy for her dilemma. Sarah was everything that Grace had not been: She seemed to have very little of the creative and imaginative about her and seemed so caught up in the ‘science’ of things that she seemed blind the reality of emotion and in denial of anything that proved inexplicable. But she couldn’t deny the fact that Grace needed Sarah if she was to communicate with Johnathan. And somehow she had to get her back out to the house …

"FOR ONCE SHOW THAT YOU CARE!!"

Johnathan woke with a start, the light was way too sharp and the fact that the television was still on, gave him the cause of waking up. It was the same movie, he had fallen asleep for about half an hour. He sat up groggily, he didn't sleep, he was so lost in the memories the movies brought, that he just couldn't get himself to just unplug the set.

He glared at the screen, then rubbed a hand over his face, he felt dirty and gritty. Somehow the bottle was empty and he stared at it for a few moments,

"She's gone son, there is nothing you can do that will change that."

He turned his attention to the television, the little banner in the top left corner read "Moore festival", he grimaced and picked up the remote, he pressed the power button again, nothing happened, he pressed harder and the set flicked off, he groaned at his own stupidity,

"Flat batteries."

He got to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom, ignoring the man in the mirror, he had no need to see him now, all he needed was another drink.

Sarah Shelton

It was a crazy idea, but it was better than just sitting and going over and over possible paths of action. Sarah had managed to go for what could be termed as a brunch and then returned back to her tiny apartment where she had set about gathering a few items she thought she might need before setting out in the direction of Johnathan’s house. She was almost there when she allowed doubts to take over and lead her to turn into the diner and waste time in consuming a jug of coffee, though this time she did ensure that she ate to cushion the effects of the caffeine.

It was gone 2 pm by the time she pulled back onto the road and headed out in the direction of the Moore cabin. This time she parked slightly down the road from Johnathan’s place and shouldering the light rucksack she set out to wander around the lake intending to visit Johnathan unannounced, but more importantly to give herself the chance to get a feel of the place. Mentally she dismissed Patrick’s suggestion that she ‘tune into the energies’ that seemed to be reaching out to her. That was so much mumbo-jumbo, but logically she could accept that a lot could be learned from the atmosphere surrounding the cabin and of course it was essential that she be aware of her own state of mind when approaching this. And so she picked her way quietly closer, hesitating where the path split and led either to the cabin or towards the lake and down to a boatshed which she calculated was opposite the home. Justifying her choice by the need to give herself time Sarah headed down towards the boat house and picked her way around the neglected structure until finally sitting on the wooden slatted decking which stretched out towards the water.

”So Grace …. What do you have to tell me …?”

She murmured as she fixed her eyes upon the rippling water surface.

After more whiskey he started to regain a semblance of his mind and of course he brushed his teeth and finally found his way to the porch. He sat down heavily, his shirt buttoned half-way open, he had gotten out of his pants somewhere during the morning, but never got to slipping on anything else, so he sat there in his boxers, legs crossed at the knee with a glass in one hand and the bottle next to him. What had brought this on?

His musings was brought back to the movies, Moore vestival? When did they decide on that? He tried to remember anything about it, then the partial news report which he had flicked past. It seemed like there was some interest about his new work, perhaps the little guy had some interested friends. He sighed and sipped his drink.

Grace Moore

She was close; Grace could sense her, the woman that they needed to be in communication again. Why such a woman would be the bridge between husband and wife she had no idea, but it didn’t mean that she had to like it, or her … Grace watched helplessly as Johnathan paced around the house. He was drinking again and seemed to be wandering around aimlessly, unshaven, partially dressed the inevitable whiskey bottle and glass in hand. She followed him as he went out to the porch. The boat house was visible from here, though he would never notice Sarah as she sat at the water’s edge, her rucksack upon the wooden slats, her boots discarded beside her and her bare feet now dangled in the water. That is he wouldn’t notice her unless attention were drawn in her direction …

Sarah Shelton

Sarah had expected to feel hostility, aggression as she sat nervously looking around her, but it was impossible to feel anything but peace in that isolated location. It was truly beautiful and she couldn’t help but envy having a home situated upon the lake side. But there was nothing to truly envy here, she mused with a sigh. Johnathan was isolated by location and by his grief and hostile to all who tried to help him. She was sure that perpetuating his hope that his wife was trying to contact him was more damaging than helpful. And perhaps she hadn’t seen what she had thought she had seen. She perused the windows opposite. She wasn’t really close enough to make out detail, but she could see no shapes, no faces, no evidence of anyone, not even Johnathan at any of the windows.

There was no warning.
One moment Sarah was sat securely at the water’s edge, the next the wooden slat was cracking and throwing her off balance.
The water felt ice cold as it hit her, the shock making her breath leave her body.
Momentum seemed to draw her downwards until she regained her senses enough to kick out and head back spluttering towards the surface.
It was then she felt a tug at her leg. It felt like a hand, but must surely only be one of the many masses of reeds and weeds that populated the watery depths.

Sarah was just able to give a cry when she disappeared for the second time beneath the surface …