FLOATING HEARTS

Part 4

Last day at the farm and Abigail forgot to take her a.m. tablets. She left a final note with the other instructions for the removals people, picked up her beige windcheater and a shoulder bag and locked the door to Caelin-Howe.

Her back felt better and she walked to the pond, slowly but with less discomfort than embarrassment.

"Leo?"

Silence.

"Are you there? Is some part of your mind or soul still in here? With that thing? Or have you really buggered off and left me?"

Abigail snorted; her shoulders slumped.

Of course not. You silly mare.

She scoured the water for movement. Nothing but wide, darkly veined leaves like hearts afloat in the reflection of the midday sky.

"I'm tired. I'm going to spend the day at the beach with my grandchildren. My son-in-law will replace your stone and let that be an end. You keep in your damn pond and I'll keep in my ..." damn head?

Beetles skated after their reflections, creating swift ripples through the clouds and made the floating hearts wave. Where's your perspective, she enquired and then noticed something at the water's edge.

Squeezing an arm through the slight widening between the stones, to retrieve her gloves, Abigail heard the pond quietly lapping at the soil. The woman froze. Her back had locked. Unable to move, she watched as a sleek shape wound closer through the water. The terrifying emotions of her dreams suddenly began to overwhelm the paralysed woman and she cried out in anguish at a dark-eyed reflection, grinning from below.

Amelia and Tim sang almost the entire half-hour drive, finally stopping as the car pulled up beside their gran's gateway. Terry came around to the woman, who was stood leaning slightly as if listening closely at a door.

"I'm so sorry we're late ma; roads are still jammed with silly season traffic. Let me put your coat and bag in the boot. We might have to cut the Bay visit a bit to get back in time to unload your stuff."

She ignored the open front-passenger door and stood waiting by the back, peering in.

"Oh, you want to sit next to the kids for a change? That's fine."

Veronica helped her mum in and fastened her belt.

The door boomed shut, sealing the stuffy car. The perspiring woman leaned over to grin at Amelia, who turned wide-eyed to stare at Tim who shrank in his seat and looked down at his fidgeting hands.

A couple of miles later, at the bottom of the hill, Terry turned onto the A171 and drove for ten minutes before indicating off the moor tops towards the sea.

"Mum! I'm happy you're going to be with us. We all are. Oh, look Amelia! Look Tim! Robin Hood's Bay. How beautiful. It feels like ages since we were here. Doesn't it mum?"

"A lifetime," Abigail heard herself, prisoner in her own unfamiliar voice.

Shunning the crowded Bay itself, the family parked near the youth hostel at Boggle Hole and escaped the car's heat. They walked onto the virtually deserted sands, enlivened by the sounds and the smell of sea.

Terry gave the children an exaggerated look of awe when their grandmother closed her eyes, lifted her florid face and opened her arms as though to embrace the wind. But the children didn't share his amusement.

"Tim," called the mother. "Why don't you and Amelia have a little walk with your gran while we sort some stuff out?"

Without opening her eyes, the woman announced "Children? Take us to the water."