Page 175 of Serenity Falls

‘I know, but I still want to find her. She deserves that.’

He stares at me with his very blue eyes, and I get it. Knowing hurts, but sometimes hurt is better than hope.

We ditch the ice-cream van a few streets away from the hotel and walk around the lake path, which is illuminated by small spotlights. The boathouse is a wooden structure next to the main hotel building, painted pale blue with a low, pitched roof. It looks a little ramshackle compared to some of the other buildings in Serenity Falls. I see there’s a door to one side.

‘They don’t keep it locked,’ Davey says, and pulls it open.

He flicks on a light switch as we step inside. There are two wooden walkways either side of the water. A small motorboat is tied up in the dock. Propped against one wall are several narrow kayaks that look like they’ve seen better days.

‘Those are our getaway vehicles?’ I say.

Davey nods. ‘We should probably just take one of them.’

‘Won’t that be a bit snug?’

‘Unless you’re experienced in kayaking?’

‘We’ll take one,’ I say.

‘Okay. You and me, front and back to paddle, and Sadie in the middle.’

‘I can paddle,’ Sadie says, sounding a little indignant.

‘Not saying you can’t, but just for weight distribution it’s probably more practical.’

She looks about to argue, but I see her rein it in. ‘Okay, fine.’

Davey and I manoeuvre one of the kayaks towards the water. After the encounter with the ice-cream van at the house, I’d half expected someone, Jerry perhaps, to intercept us. But there’s no one. And it gives me an uneasy feeling. Like we’re being given the chance to get away. I shove the thought aside. No other choice, right?

Davey is staring at me. ‘Okay, Mr Barker?’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ I readjust my grip on the other end of the boat, and we lift it into the water. Davey keeps a hand on the bow.

‘Okay,’ Davey says to Sadie. ‘You get in with Zelda. Then, Mr Barker, you get in the back. I’ll go in the front.’

‘Right,’ I say, feeling very much unright about this. Davey nods at Sadie. Deftly, she steps into the boat and stuffs Zelda between her knees.

Next, and far less deftly, clinging to the side of the dock, I gingerly lower myself into the back, feeling the kayak bob disconcertingly beneath me. I wobble and almost fall but manage to sit down heavily. I grasp the paddles.

‘Okay,’ Davey says again. ‘Here goes.’ He casts off and slips into the boat in front of Sadie. I feel the kayak rock again, and it seems to dip dangerously low in the dark water, but we’re still afloat. Just.

‘What now?’ I ask.

‘Now,’ Davey says, ‘we paddle.’

My head still hurts, and the smell of the dank lake water is stirring up unpleasant memories. I look back, and she’s there, of course, standing on the shadowy deck.

Grey hoodie, joggers, tendrils of wet hair clinging to her pale face. Nat. Her lips form words, too far away to hear, but her voice echoes inside my head: ‘Save her, Dan. You’d better fucking save her.’

The lake spreads out from the hotel to the shores of the woods in an inky-black mass. I’ve never been out on water in the dark. I’m not really a water person. Never liked waterparks or the sea or lakes. Wild swimming to me seemed foolish. Why splash around in mud and excrement when you could at least splash around in chlorinated excrement in a swimming pool?

There’s something scary about water at night. The blackness, the treachery of it, pooling all around you. It looks thicker, more substantial than it is. Like it’s trying to fool you. Step right in. It’ll just be like jelly. You’ll float.

We steer to the right of the hotel, leaving the faint lights of downtown behind. The darkness is immediate and thorough. A cloak to hide us but also a barrier to finding our way.

Sadie’s phone light doesn’t reach far. Once or twice, I feel the boat bump the bank.

‘Are we going the right way?’