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Nothing.
Anxiety gnawed at her. She felt a rush of frustration toward Jack. She’d known something was wrong. He should have checked on Izzy before he left.
Jack hadn’t seemed worried, but Flora was sure that he was missing something big.
Slowly she scanned the path that led along the side of the lake. Had she gone into the forest?
What if she swam on her own and got into trouble?
Flora would never be able to forgive herself. She was willing to endure more abuse just to be sure Izzy was all right.
She had to check. She had to.
She probably wouldn’t even announce herself. As soon as she found Izzy and reassured herself that she was okay, she’d come back to the house and focus on the garden.
She returned to the kitchen, and stuffed a few provisions into a bag. Should she change her T-shirt? Deciding the
re was no time, she locked the back door and headed through the forest to the boathouse. As she drew closer, she could see no one had been near it. It was locked up and quiet. There was no sign of Izzy.
But she’d definitely walked in this direction, so where else could she be?
Flora skirted the side of the boathouse and stepped onto the dock, trying not to look down at the water shimmering beneath the planks.
In the time it had taken her to walk from the house the sky had grown darker. The only sounds were the call of a bird and the slow lazy flap of a heron’s wings as it left the riverbank.
Flora scanned the lakeshore into the distance, and then turned to look at the island. It nestled in the center of the lake, an oasis of green and tall trees in the huge expanse of water.
Its only inhabitants were a few rare species of butterflies.
There was no way Izzy would be there.
She was about to resume her focus on the shoreline when she saw a flash of blue among the trees. Izzy’s shirt. Izzy had gone to the island? No, surely not. How would she have got there?
And then she peered more closely and saw a little yellow boat hauled high away from the waterline.
Flora’s heart almost stopped. Izzy had rowed there? Was she really that desperate? Poor Izzy. Poor, poor Izzy. She’d taken herself to a place where no one would look for her. A place away from everyone.
Now what?
Flora glanced over her shoulder, wishing she had reinforcements. Jack and the gang would be gone all day, and Clare was unlikely to be back for hours. What if Izzy didn’t have hours? She’d been so upset.
Flora checked her phone, but as usual there was no signal, which was normally blissful but right now made her want to hurl the device into the lake.
No signal to call for help. There was just her.
Why hadn’t she learned to swim? Or at least row a boat?
She glanced at the island again but the flash of blue had disappeared. She imagined Izzy, desperate and alone, staring into those waters.
Flora turned her head and looked at the remaining boat, tied to the dock.
No. No way.
But what if Izzy did something terrible? She’d never forgive herself. And even if she didn’t do any of the things Flora’s imagination was currently conjuring, there was still the fact that she was feeling alone.
Flora knew how awful that was and suddenly it was important to her, terribly important, that Izzy knew she wasn’t alone.
She breathed deeply. How hard could it be to row a boat? You sat in it and paddled. You didn’t even need to touch the water. If she kept her eyes up she wouldn’t even need to see much of the water.
