Silent Light by John Naa - HTML preview

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CHAPTER FOUR

 

The low autumn sun drifted in through the window onto the dining room table where Michaela sat bent over her computer. She let out an exasperated sigh and leaned back in the chair. Having trouble concentrating. She needed more of her notes. They were in the trunk of the rental. She shoved back from the table and went outside.

 

Trisha had disappeared after lunch. Lunch that Michaela had made. Michaela grunted at the memory. Trisha hadn’t even brought any supplies with her. Not that Michaela could tell anyway. They’d have to have a word about that later. She was not going to take on the job of chief cook and bottle washer. No way in hell.

She decided as she walked down to the car, she would have to suggest that Trisha left. After all, Michaela was here first, and she wasn’t exactly in the mood for company. And certainly not Trisha’s company. She hadn’t even been able to find  out what Trisha did. Or get her to stop calling her Sherlock. The woman was aggravating.

There were a whoop and a wild splashing from the direction of the lake. Surely that crazy Trisha wasn’t in the water? Michaela shook her head. It was too cold for swimming. No one in their right mind would get in the water at this time of the year. Any colder and it would be nice for Christ’s sakes.

Michaela hooked her thumbs into her belt and stood to look in the lake’s direction. Here in the sun, it wasn’t too bad. She walked past the car and down the path to the jetty, the pine needles muffling her steps. She stepped onto the jetty.

Trisha was a pale streak in the water, dark hair fanned out behind her like some pre-Raphaelite undine. The sun danced golden on the surface of the water and Michaela couldn’t help but smile when Trisha burst up to the surface, sending gold and diamond droplets everywhere.

‘Come for a swim!’ Trisha called. ‘Water’s great!’

Michaela stood on the jetty and shook her head. ‘You have to be kidding me,’ she said. ‘The water must be bloody freezing.’

Trisha grinned and shrugged, launching herself onto her back then suddenly flipping over into an underwater somersault. She burst to the surface again, her skin marbled with the cold, nipples standing erect and brown. Michaela was suddenly conscious of staring.

Trisha swam up to the jetty’s edge. ‘Come on Sherlock,’ she purred.

Michaela narrowed her eyes and Trisha threw her hands in the air and laughed.

‘All right already! You win.’ She waggled a finger in a come hither gesture.

‘Come for a swim. Michaela.’

Michaela gazed down at the mermaid in the water. ‘It’s cold,’ she said.

Trisha laughed again, a throaty purr. ‘It’s invigorating,’ she said, treading water. She threw back her head. ‘Oh come on Sherlock! You know you want to. Loosen up a little, why don’t you.’ She took off, slicing through the water in a smooth breaststroke.

Michaela stood hesitating a moment longer. What the hell, she decided. She’d either die of a heart attack from the cold, or she might enjoy herself. Shaking her head, she kicked her boots away and peeled her jersey off, throwing it down on the jetty and adding the rest of her clothes to the pile. She dived into the water before she could change her mind.

She surfaced screaming. ‘Oh fuck fuck fuck it’s cold!’

Trisha laughed. ‘Not enough to take your breath away, obviously – that’s an impressive scream, Sherlock.’

Michaela lunged toward the other woman. Trish laughed and swam away. Michaela dived and twisted through the water. Maybe if she moved around a bit she wouldn’t die of exposure. She looked up at the sky from beneath the water, letting the strange underwater silence wrap itself around her. She blew out some bubbles and a hand reached out and grabbed her wrist.

Trisha hauled her to the surface. ‘What’re you trying to do down there?’ she asked. ‘Grow gills?’

Michaela laughed. ‘Grew up swimming every day at the beach. I could hold my breath the longest of any of my friends.’

‘Well,’ Trisha said, ‘I guess some talents are just never lost.’ And rolled her eyes.

 

 Still laughing, Michaela reached out and tugged at a wet lock of Trisha’s hair.

‘You have mermaid's hair,’ she said.

Trisha grinned. ‘Would you like to hear my siren song?’ she asked, brushing a leg against Michaela’s as they paddled to stay afloat.

Michaela looked at her. Then up at the sky, back toward the cabin. ‘Some other time,’ she said at last. She pushed away and swam back to the jetty, pulling herself out of the water in a sudden cascade. She avoided looking at Trisha and picked up her clothes, walked back to the cabin.

She was dressed by the time Trisha padded in; dressed and sitting back at the laptop, frowning at the screen.

She cleared her throat and Trisha stopped, dripping lake water onto the floor in a spreading puddle.

‘I think you should leave,’ Michaela said. ‘I was here first and I’d rather prefer to be here on my own.’ She looked up at Trisha and realized the woman was still naked. She looked away again.

‘Get over yourself,’ Trisha said after a moment. ‘I’m staying. You leave. You’re the one with the wheels, Sherlock.’ She walked past.

Michaela stood up. ‘Stop fucking calling me Sherlock,’ she yelled.