River of Destiny. Barbara Erskine

at last he dragged open the door and looked out the yard was deserted. He walked over to her waiting horse and stood for a moment stroking the animal’s nose until she appeared at the door of the forge, fully clothed and, at least at a first glance, neat and well groomed. She began to walk towards him. Only her high colour showed that anything out of the ordinary had occurred. He threw her up into the saddle and stood looking up at her for a moment. She stared down, her face once more the cold arrogant mask of earlier in the day. ‘Remember, Daniel. This is between us. One word and your wife hears of your betrayal.’ She raised the whip and in spite of himself he ducked. She smiled. ‘No, Daniel, not for you, not this time.’ Bringing the crop down smartly on the horse’s rump, she turned out of the yard and put the animal up the track towards the Hall at a canter.

      ‘No. I don’t want to sail. Not today.’ Zoë was sitting in the cockpit of the boat, sketching the river bank. She had made a complete mess of the drawing and tore it out of the sketchbook angrily, screwing it up and tucking it into the sail bag lying at her feet.

      Ken was squatting on the foredeck, coiling down some ropes into neat perfect circles. He had looked up suddenly and pointed out that the tide was perfect and it was a glorious day with a brisk wind. He looked taken aback. ‘Why on earth not?’

      ‘Because I told you last time I didn’t like it. I was terrified. We nearly sank!’

      ‘Oh, what rubbish! It was the most glorious day.’ He looked genuinely bewildered. ‘Oh, come on, Zoë, you’ve always loved sailing.’

      ‘No.’ She put down her pencil and pad and stood up, feeling the boat move restlessly under her feet. ‘I haven’t loved it. I have enjoyed it from time to time when it was calm, and I love it like this, on the mooring, sketching or reading my book, but I do not like it when it is rough, and when the wind is tearing out my hair, when my ears ache and I’ve got salt in my eyes and my hands are numb and wrinkled with the sea water and my clothes are sticky and you are screaming orders at me which I can’t hear because of the wind and I am expecting to die at any moment. I don’t find that exciting! I don’t find it a challenge!’

      ‘But Zo –’

      ‘No. If you want to sail, fine. Go without me on your own, or find someone to crew with you. What about Leo? Or Steve or Jeff?’

      He had dropped the length of rope and was making his way back along the side deck. Jumping lightly into the cockpit he sat down. ‘I thought you loved it here.’

      ‘I do love it here. I love everything about it. Just not the possibility of drowning. For goodness’ sake, Ken, it is almost the end of the season anyway.’

      ‘Would you come if we just motor?’

      ‘Maybe. But not today. I’ve got a headache and I can’t bear the stink of fumes from the engine.’ She stood up. ‘Look, Ken, I’m sorry, I really am. I should have said it before, but I have never been so frightened. Row me ashore now, and then go on your own. You often went by yourself when we sailed in Sussex.’

      He looked crestfallen. ‘I don’t like being on my own.’

      ‘Then you’ll have to find someone else to sail with. It would be much more fun for you. You could find someone who is experienced and knows this river and the bar and the sea outside, and you could go off for real adventures.’ She gave him a small smile. ‘Please, don’t be angry.’

      ‘I’m not angry.’ He was, though. She could see by the white patches under his cheekbones as he clenched his jaw.

      He rowed her towards the landing stage, held the boat steady while she climbed up, and had already pushed off back towards the boat as she reached the top of the short ladder and stood for a moment looking back at him. As he rowed he was facing her, but he looked over his shoulder towards the Lady Grace until he had come alongside and climbed up into the boat again. Once there he disappeared down the companionway into the cabin. Zoë gave a deep sigh and turned to make her way back to the house.

      ‘I take it that was your defining moment?’ Leo was standing on the river bank in the shadow of the trees. She jumped at the sound of his voice, then shook her head sadly. ‘You were right. I should have told him years ago.’

      ‘What did he say?’ He leaned back against the trunk of one of the pines; she could see the feathery shadows from the branches playing across his face.

      ‘Nothing much. He was pretty upset.’

      ‘That’s tough. Maybe I’ll offer to sail with him some time. Do you think he would like that?’

      ‘I’m sure he would.’

      They walked together up the track and over the lawn towards the houses. Where the path divided, right to Leo’s and left to Zoë and Ken’s, she paused. Suddenly she didn’t want him to go. ‘Do you want to come up for a drink or something?’

      He hesitated. ‘Do you think that is a good idea?’ He held her gaze.

      ‘Why not?’ She looked away.

      He shrugged. ‘OK, I’d like to.’

      ‘If Ken comes after me you can suggest sailing with him. I’m sure he would be pleased.’

      They were halfway across the lawn when Leo stopped suddenly. ‘Did you leave your front door open?’

      ‘What? No.’ She followed his pointing finger. ‘Oh God!’

      ‘Wait.’ As they walked into the hall he put his hand on her arm to hold her back. ‘Is there anyone there?’ His voice was surprisingly powerful in the silent house. They waited.

      There was no reply.

      Zoë pushed past him and stood in the doorway to the large living room, peering in. The armchairs were back in a straight line.

      ‘Someone has been in and rearranged the furniture.’

      ‘You’d better check if there is anything missing.’

      She glanced round. ‘There are things down here a burglar would have taken – sound system, TV. I don’t think anything has been touched. The kids wouldn’t steal, would they? Wait here and I’ll check upstairs.’

      She ran up to their bedroom and stared round. On the dressing table lay the gold chain and pendant which she had been wearing the night before. On Ken’s cabinet there was a wad of notes he had taken out of his wallet to pay for fuel for the boat and for some reason put down before transferring it to his pocket. She shook her head. Anyone who had come to raid the house would have taken it. She ran back downstairs.

      ‘I don’t think there is anything missing.’

      ‘Look.’ He had moved across to the coffee table and bent to pick something up. A handful of horseshoe nails, lying a-

       midst a scattering of rust and dirt.

      Zoë stared down at his palm. ‘You still think it’s the kids?’

      ‘Hmm.’ He was still looking down at his hand. He sniffed the nails cautiously then dropped them back on the table. ‘Did you mention putting bolts on the doors to Ken?’

      ‘Yes. He thinks it’s a good idea. He hasn’t got round to it yet. And perhaps we should change the locks as well.’

      ‘Leave me to talk to Jeff. I think I will bypass Sharon – she’s too volatile – but he might have an idea of what the boys are up to.’ He smiled at her. ‘Don’t let this scare you. No harm has been done and nothing is missing. It’s a prank, that’s all.’

      ‘And if it isn’t the kids?’

      ‘It is.’ He walked towards the window. ‘Do you want a hand with putting the chairs back? You had them in a sort of semi-circle, didn’t you?’ He moved across and heaved one of the chairs into place. Under it there were half