The Room by the Lake by Emma Dibdin

Author:Emma Dibdin [Dibdin, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Head of Zeus Ltd.

14

The ribbons have moved.

It takes me a few circular attempts at finding my way back to the house before I settle on this explanation. I’d set out from Don’s cabin after our latest session, afloat on the hazy calm that always follows me out, but already I can’t remember exactly where I came from, and the ribbons are not guiding me the way they usually do. Following them has become subconscious, a reflex, but reflex only works if your environment is predictable.

I retrace my footsteps and stand still in front of the last ribbons I saw, as though looking at it long enough will reveal my path. There is no next ribbon to be seen, and they have never led me to this point before. Nothing around me is familiar.

Find the lake. The advice comes to me fully formed, as though the words have been spoken to me before, though I can’t remember when or why. If I find the lake, I can reverse-engineer my steps back to the house. I hope.

Despite how lost I am, I don’t feel afraid – the forest is safe again and has felt so for some time now, associated in my mind only with trips to and from Don’s. It’s not until I finally glimpse shimmering water through the leaves that my heart starts pounding, though I don’t understand why until I emerge into a clearing. Kris is by the water, his back to me. I walk backwards, determined to make a clean escape, and though a twig snaps under my foot I’m sure I’ve got away with it.

‘Don’t leave on my account,’ he says loudly, and I freeze.

‘Hi! Sorry, I was just – I’m lost.’

I edge out into the open, let the sun shine on my face. Kris is hunched down by the water like he’s ready to jump in, but he’s fully clothed and doesn’t seem like the type for spontaneous feats of athleticism. He’s different from the man I met in New York, though I can’t put my finger on how. He’s as restless and spindly as ever but smaller, as though something has been drained from him.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask, what were you doing in the city?’ I ask, trying for friendly. ‘When you brought us the car, it seemed like you lived in Manhattan. Were you working there, or...?’

Nothing in his stance indicates he’s heard me. I suppose he has good reason to be angry with me now, at least.

‘I’m sorry about the other day. At Don’s – I shouldn’t have just come in like that. I didn’t mean to intrude.’

Looking at him now, it’s hard to believe those terrible wails could ever have emerged from him. He’s perfectly still and silent, his face placid when I finally move close enough to see it.

‘Don’t you have somewhere to be?’ I ask, sounding peevish. It seems incongruous for anyone to be this still here. There is always purpose, always activity, always something scheduled. Kris does not fit.

‘Probably. I’ve lost track of the schedule.

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