The Drowned Woman. Terry Thomas Lynn

that, miss,’ Helen said. ‘It’s pinned fast, of that I can assure you.’ I dismissed Helen, as she was needed in the kitchen. The sun started to set, so I opened the French doors and ventured onto the veranda, where I had a clear view of the sloping back lawn, followed by miles of the golden grass indigenous to California. In the distance, the stable gleamed white as the horses grazed in the diminishing sunlight. It was still warm out, and the grass smelled sweet. At home in Sausalito the fog would be rolling in. Zeke came out of the bath, damp tendrils of hair curling around his face, and found me sitting at the vanity fidgeting with my pearl necklace.

      ‘You’ll break that string of pearls if you keep on like that.’ He stood behind me. Our eyes met in the mirror. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from my father. If you can survive this, you can survive anything.’

      ‘Surely he can’t be that bad,’ I said.

      ‘We shall defend ourselves, whatever the cost may be.’

      And so we headed down to dinner to face Zeke’s father, while Zeke quoted Winston Churchill.

       Chapter 3

      My husband’s tension level increased with each step, so by the time we reached the sitting room where everyone had gathered, he was coiled like a panther, ready to spring. The energy flowed off the arm that I held and coursed through me, as we followed the sound of clinking glass and the low murmur of voices. We entered a large room with whitewashed walls, which gave the spacious room a gleaming brightness, accentuated by the large picture window. Through it, the sun set in purple and red streaks. Daphne held a champagne flute while Simon filled it. She gazed at Toby, who was busy with a vast collection of toy soldiers.

      ‘You look gorgeous,’ Daphne said, smiling as she walked over to me. ‘Pour Sarah champagne, Simon.’ She put her arm around me, as though she wanted to tell me a secret. Zeke went over to Simon and busied himself with his own drink.

      ‘I see Helen has done your hair.’

      ‘She also mended my clothes. She is very talented,’ I said.

      ‘Helen is a marvel,’ Simon said. He handed me a flute full of bubbly liquid, took a sterling silver cigarette case from his pocket, and made a fuss over lighting up. I wanted to step away – I hated cigarette smoke – but was afraid of being rude. He offered the case to me. I shook my head.

      ‘No, thank you,’ I said. ‘What an interesting lighter.’

      ‘Thanks. Gift from my father.’ He handed me the sterling lighter, overlaid with white enamel. On the front a tiny fish under the sea had been painted in remarkable detail. ‘It’s my lucky charm.’

      ‘Then I’d best give it back to you.’ I handed the lighter to him. He tucked it into his pocket, gave me a tight smile, and wandered to the window, where he stood smoking with his back to the room.

      ‘This room is lovely,’ I said.

      Daphne spoke about her interest in design and her efforts to use light to enhance space. I listened, nodding when I should, or saying, ‘Really?’ and, ‘You don’t say,’ when a response was required. We carried on this way until an old woman hobbled into the room.

      ‘Granna, look at me! I’m big!’ Toby jumped up and flew toward the woman. ‘Mamma said we can eat lots of ice cream and cake.’

      Granna wore a floor-length skirt twenty-five years out of style, topped with a silk blouse with an elaborate lace collar, held by a cameo at her throat. Toby skipped around her skirts for a moment before he ran back to Zeke, his eyes riveted on Zeke’s black cane with the silver lion’s head.

      ‘Do you have a sword in there? Some crime fighters have swords in their canes—’

      ‘Not so loud, Toby,’ Daphne said. She stood up and went to her son. Soon Daphne, Zeke, and Simon were listening to Toby’s tales of heroes with canes.

      ‘That’s my fault.’ The old woman stood next to me now. ‘I’m afraid I let him listen to anything on the radio that he wants, and, well, boys will be boys. Let’s sit, shall we?’

      We took the two chairs tucked into the far corner, just out of earshot.

      Granna said, ‘My son – Zeke’s father – is a bully and a fool, and I just want to warn you not to expect too much from him. We are glad to have you here, my dear. It is time that Zeke came home. I’m sure that you’ll want to stay on permanently after you’ve had a chance to get the lay of the land, so to speak.’

      I was about to tell her that we wouldn’t be staying permanently when Mrs Griswold stood in the doorway.

      ‘Dinner, Mrs Griswold?’ Daphne asked.

      * * *

      We followed Mrs Griswold into a dining area positioned inside the alcove created by four windows which formed a good-sized bay window. An octagonal table had been expanded with leaves to accommodate all of us. The open windows provided a pleasant breeze. Outside, the crickets and nocturnal birds serenaded us. Zeke’s father already sat at the head of the table, a large glass of amber liquid at his elbow. He surveyed us as we filed in, his eyes mean and hard.

      Zeke held my chair out for me.

      ‘This is Sarah, Father.’

      ‘I know who she is,’ the man growled at me. ‘I followed the trial. I know what you said about that man.’

      ‘I didn’t have much choice,’ I said.

      Mr Caen sipped his drink and watched me over the rim of his glass with watery blue eyes. He had the same features as his sons, intense eyes, and a strong jaw that had once been as determined as Zeke’s. Mr Caen was handsome – all of the Caen men were – but the booze was taking its toll. It wouldn’t be too long before the skin would hang off the jowls and the eyes would become irreparably clouded.

      ‘You continue to speak to Sarah like that, and we’re leaving.’ Zeke spoke in that calm-before-the-storm quality that even his father noticed. A hush fell over the room. In the distance, an owl hooted.

      ‘I see someone’s knocked you down a peg or two. You’re a cripple now. Always knew you’d wind up on the wrong end of someone. Troublemaker, that’s what you are.’

      ‘Stop it, William,’ Granna snapped, as she sat down. ‘Zeke and Sarah made a lot of effort to get here. Let’s not chase them off today. Please, everyone, sit. Let’s enjoy our meal.’

      Mrs Griswold entered the room as if on cue. She carried a pan with roast beef, potatoes, carrots, and peas, which she set on the sideboard. She made quick work of serving us. Soon the room fell silent as we ate.

      ‘The meat shortage hasn’t affected us too much,’ Daphne said. ‘We have a neighbor who raises beef cattle. I give their children riding lessons, and every couple of weeks we get a roast. I grow the vegetables, as you saw earlier.’

      ‘Regular paragon of virtue,’ Will Sr said. He turned his focus to Zeke. ‘What do you think of the mill? We’ve made a smooth switch to parachutes. Doing our part for the war.’ Will Sr put a piece of beef in his mouth and looked at Zeke.

      ‘Indeed you have. But you need to install an air-conditioner. One of those girls had to go to the hospital today, Father. She had a heat stroke. You need to take care of your people.’

      ‘Too expensive,’ Will Sr said.

      ‘Then at least let them work in the evening so as to avoid the heat of the day,’ Simon piped in. ‘I had to go tell Fred Jones his daughter collapsed on the job because we didn’t provide a humane working environment.’

      ‘Enough about the mill,’ Will Sr said. ‘Let’s have some peace while we eat.’

      ‘This is really good,’ Toby said. He ate ravenously. If he noticed the rancor among