The Flood

‘What fire?’ Franklyn asked.

‘For the … y’know.’ The word funeral still felt melodramatic. ‘To get rid of this stuff.’

‘Too wet for a bonfire,’ Franklyn said. She took a few more paces along the platform, testing its strength with her weight. ‘Anyway, not everything will burn. Better to do it this way.’ She made an expansive gesture at the water with her free hand. ‘The river carries everything away.’

Even though it’d been raining pretty consistently all summer, the river wasn’t nearly as high as it sometimes reached. During the winter, it often burst its banks. At least once a year the bridge to Hackett would be closed because it wasn’t safe to cross when the water was at its highest. Daniela and her sisters had a healthy regard for the river, drummed into them by their mother.

Not that it was obvious from the way Franklyn was acting. She reached the end of the platform and leaned out over the water. She peered down as if she could see anything at all in the muddy depths.

‘Be careful,’ Auryn called. She’d stayed well back from the water, about equidistance between the river and the shadowy trees. She looked uncomfortable. Her hands were scrunched in the pockets of her blue waterproof coat. Drizzle beaded her blonde hair.

‘It’s fine,’ Franklyn said. ‘Come on out here.’

Auryn shook her head. Daniela didn’t particularly want to stand on the rickety platform either, but she wanted to prove she was braver than her younger sister. After all, Franklyn wasn’t scared.

As she stepped onto the boards, the platform groaned, and Daniela froze. But it was just the swollen boards acknowledging her presence. Like Franklyn said, the structure was solid. Daniela swallowed the nagging voice that said otherwise.

She glanced at Franklyn, hoping for encouragement or acknowledgement, but Franklyn had already turned back to the water. She’d set down the box. In her hand was a slim bundle of letters, secured with an elastic band. As Daniela watched, Franklyn took the elastic band off, slipped it around her wrist, and started flicking through the envelopes. She selected one and tore it into quarters, then eighths. Then she flung the handful of paper across the water. The white flakes settled onto the surface, turned dark, and were swept away.

‘Where’d those letters come from?’ Daniela asked. She was certain they hadn’t been in the garage among their mother’s other possessions.

‘Found them.’

‘Found them where?’

Franklyn didn’t answer. She tore up another envelope and scattered the pieces.

Who are they addressed to? Daniela didn’t ask aloud, because she was afraid of the answer. Instead she watched Franklyn methodically tear up each one and consign it to the river.

Daniela took the postcards from the box. Suddenly she wasn’t sure she was angry enough to start ripping things. ‘This is a weird kind of funeral,’ she said.

‘It’s a weird kind of situation. You want to say a few words? Will that help?’

‘You should do it.’

Franklyn blew out her cheeks. ‘All right. Let me think.’

While she thought, she finished ripping up the envelopes. Daniela glimpsed the writing on the front. Definitely her mother’s. Who were they for?

Are any for us?

In her formal speaking voice, Franklyn said, ‘We’re here to say goodbye. You’re gone, and I guess we miss you. So long.’

She flung the last handful of paper into the air. The wind caught it and sprinkled it like confetti around them.

Daniela threw the postcards out into the water, one at a time, skimming them like stones. Each settled onto the surface and was carried away. The water blurred the writing fast, before the cards were out of sight.

Behind her, Auryn stepped onto the platform. She never made a move until she was completely sure of herself. She walked across the boards until she reached her sisters. Franklyn moved aside to make room.

‘Go ahead,’ Franklyn said. She put a reassuring hand on Auryn’s shoulder.

But Auryn didn’t need any encouragement. With quick, jerky movements, she chucked the jade beads into the water. They disappeared with a plop. Her other arm shot out and the ceramic kittens followed the beads into the depths, without a single hesitation. They hadn’t even disappeared before she was stripping off her coat and flinging it into the river. Next, she pulled off her left shoe. It was only then Daniela realised Auryn was crying.

‘Hey,’ Franklyn said, ‘Auryn—’

‘Everything goes,’ Auryn said. ‘Everything she gave us.’ She stumbled taking off her other shoe.

‘Stop.’ Franklyn caught her arm. Auryn jerked out of her reach and collided with Daniela.

There wasn’t room on the platform for pushing and shoving. Daniela’s foot slipped off the edge of the boards. She grabbed Auryn to save herself from falling. The platform groaned ominously beneath them.

‘Be careful!’ Daniela said.

She clung on to Auryn. For a moment they stayed like that, Auryn leaning into her, still crying, both of them listening to the noise of the river beneath them. Daniela felt her own eyes prickle with tears, and she turned her face away so Franklyn wouldn’t see.

‘Come on,’ Daniela said. She kept a hand on Auryn’s shoulder as she led her back along the platform onto solid ground. Franklyn stayed where she was.

Daniela wouldn’t have admitted how glad she was to get back onto the bank. The thrum of the river beneath the platform had unnerved her. It would’ve been so easy for someone to slip and fall and be swept away. She told herself that was the reason why her eyes were stinging with suppressed tears. She steered Auryn towards the upturned boat where she figured they could sit down.

Before they got there, Stephanie appeared from out of the woods. She had a scowl stamped on her face. Daniela thought for a second they would get yelled at, for being out on the rickety platform, or for messing around so close to the river. But Stephanie immediately saw Auryn’s distress.

‘What happened?’ Stephanie asked.

Auryn wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She was trembling slightly and her bare arms were covered with goose bumps. ‘We’re saying goodbye,’ she mumbled, so quietly Daniela almost didn’t hear.

Daniela sneaked a glance at Franklyn, who was still out on the platform. She’d picked up the box containing their mother’s possessions and, without ceremony, upended it. The remaining items vanished into the river.

Then Franklyn looked up at Stephanie. ‘Hey, glad you could make it,’ she called. She put her hands in her pockets and wandered back towards her sisters. ‘Come to pay your respects?’

‘Dad and Henry had an argument,’ Stephanie said, ignoring the question. ‘I heard them shouting. Something about a letter? When I got downstairs, Henry had driven off in a temper.’

Franklyn paused at the near end of the platform, looking down into the water. A tiny smile touched her lips. ‘Fancy that,’ she said.

‘What did you do, Frankie?’

‘Me? Nothing at all.’ But there was satisfaction in her voice. ‘All I wanted from today was to get rid of stuff we don’t want anymore. Feels good to know we can get on with our lives now, doesn’t it?’

2 (#ulink_df330866-3d0f-5814-bb57-e6531df6725c)

February 2017

14 Years Later

It took Daniela three hours to wade into Stonecrop, and, by then, her temper was as bleak as the weather. She’d almost turned back when she’d reached the bridge on the Hackett road and found it already awash. Below the bridge, the River Bade was still rising, surging up to the metal arches, muddy brown, swollen, tangled with branches that shot past at worrying speed. Gathering her nerve, Daniela had edged across the bridge. The force of the water made the metal handrail thrum beneath her fingers. Off to her left, a few hundred yards downstream, she could see what was left of the old fishing platform she and her sisters used to play on as kids. Only the necks of its stubby supports remained sticking out of the mud. The ancient, upside-down rowboat was still there, a moss-coloured hillock pulled up away from the bank.

Once past the bridge, the going didn’t improve. In places, the road was flooded so deep she had to clamber along the muddy verges, clinging to branches in the hedgerow. Her jacket wasn’t nearly as waterproof as she’d been led to believe, and the chill dampness that’d started at her collar and sleeves had seeped through to her skin. Water had overflowed her boots. Her socks squelched with every step. And she still had another two miles of flooded roads to slog through before she reached her home village.

Daniela was sure there must’ve been dry, sunny days during her childhood, but in her memory, Stonecrop was always wet, always overcast, always unwelcoming. And now it was partially underwater too.