The Lake Of Lilies
Book Excerpt
Chapter One - Lisa
It was an unusually hot spring day. For the past three weeks, there had been a mini heat wave; with little rain, plenty of sunshine, and today seemed to be following the pattern. There had been a few spatterings of clouds earlier this morning, and now, just after mid-day, the sky was clear. Golden rays from the sun shone down, warming and illuminating, bathing the English landscape in vivid radiance and light. Lisa Reynolds walked quickly along the winding dirt path. In the distance, she could see a mass of trees, huddled close together, their boughs merging in an explosion of pink and white blossom. She had been walking for almost three quarters of an hour. Her feet were sore from standing too long, her shoulders ached under the pressure of a pretty but practical handbag, which was weighed down with books, uniform, make-up and keys.
Lisa had just finished work. She did not have a seated job like her best friend Emma, who was employed as a legal secretary. Emma worked in a neat, pristine office, with whitewashed walls and expensive furnishings. In comparison, Lisa worked in a chaotic café, bright, loud and cheerful, which smelt deliciously of freshly baked bread and croissants. Lisa usually worked part-time, but had been helping out with the unexpected flux of customers that the Easter holidays had brought into town. Today had been very busy, as well as the locals, whom Lisa knew the majority by first name terms, there had also been numerous out-of-town visitors. Little Hamsden was a picturesque place to live, with a patchwork rural landscape, rolling hills and barley sweet meadows. The population was small, the shops and the houses were quaint. The church was stunning with its dazzling, myriad stained glass windows, the archaic brickwork and the magnificent steeple with its southern tip encapsulated by gargoyles and angels. It was a place which was packed full of history. A place where folk tales and myths had originated and religious factions had flourished, even the more dubious ones had been documented over the years in the local museum. Little Hamsden dripped with flowery imagery, which a poet might attribute to typical idyllic country life. It nestled like a gem, bursting with colour and waiting to be discovered. In comparison, the neighbouring city, which was approximately an hour’s drive away, was shrouded by smog and modernity: grey, urban and impersonal.
One of the main attractions of Little Hamsden was the lake, which twisted and turned, weaving its way around the town, creating a type of medieval Arthurian fortress. It was extremely popular with both tourists and locals alike. Lisa had been born in Little Hamsden and had spent a great deal of time at the lake as a child, playing hide-and-seek, climbing trees, picking wild flowers for friends and family and learning to swim in the natural, outdoor environment. She loved the water. As she matured, her mother allowed her to camp out overnight with friends and to swim unsupervised. It was a place which, when Lisa reminisced, held many fond and special memories and still now at twenty-four, Lisa spent leisurely hours here. It was her favourite place to rest and relax, the ideal haven for reading a book and lazily wishing the hours away. Lisa was walking through the blossom laden trees now and could clearly see the outline of the lake and could hear the faint swishing of water as it broke onto dry land. Like the weather, the lake was particularly calm, and in the glorious, afternoon sunshine, it shimmered soundlessly like a net of diamonds, hundreds that sparkled and dazzled, interspersed with splashes of colour: silver, gold, brown and green hues and in one corner, floated a radiant circle of pink and white, which Lisa recognised as water lilies, nestling on a sea of dark green, veiny leaves.
Lisa reached the small boat, which her parents had bought for her two birthdays ago and pushed it forward until it creaked in protestation, spattering dried mud and grass, as it descended downwards, towards the water’s edge. With one last heave, she manoeuvred the small, oval shaped boat onto the water and climbed in, swaying precariously, before it could float away out of her grasp. Carefully, she rowed away from the water’s edge towards the centre of the lake. The wooden oars dipped into the water effortlessly, helped by the intensity of the sun’s heat and without any opposition from the wind, Lisa found little resistance as she headed out onto the lake’s glistening surface. When she reached her intended destination, Lisa hung the small metal anchor overboard and let it fall from her fingers into the water with a splash. She waited for the boat to stop moving, pushing a damp tendril of dark brown hair from across her perspiring forehead and tucking it behind her ear.
Lisa lay back in the boat with a sigh and closed her eyes. The hot sunshine caressed her skin, warming her aching limbs. She hooked a leg over the side of the boat and dipped her right foot tentatively into the water. It felt cool and refreshing on her naked skin, and ripples formed seductively around her toes and reverberated into circular shapes that began small and grew progressively larger. It was so quiet and peaceful here by the lake, unpolluted by artificial distraction, Lisa could only sense the sound of nature around her. She could hear the soft sound of crickets, hiding in the long grass, birds were chirping in the skies and the trees, a gentle buzzing emanated from bees, enticed by the premature hot weather. They danced from flower to flower, and from far away, in the distance, she could hear the sound of children’s laughter, tinkling merrily. It was the school’s Easter break, Lisa knew this because the café in which she worked had been inundated by bored teenagers over the last two weeks. The manager invariably complained that they stayed too long, spent too little and made too much noise, but Lisa enjoyed their company in the café and saw only exuberant youth, a passion for life, which Lisa believed had bypassed the manager a while ago and which he secretly envied.
Lisa could feel herself drifting off into that place that occupied half slumber and half consciousness. She was tired, she had been working since eight o’clock this morning. It was now two-thirty, and it had been a busy shift. All day the High Street Café had bustled with clientele, and last night Lisa had been singing at Belle’s until twelve o’clock. This morning she found that her voice had suffered from last night’s excesses. She had been hoarse and croaky, and her eyes were red and sore; a reaction to bright, searing lights and lack of quality sleep. It did not take long for her breathing to deepen. Lisa loved this part of the lake, appreciating its beauty and seclusion. It was a small area, which managed to bypass the hordes of camera happy tourists and remained largely undiscovered, even by many of the local people. She visited this area frequently, more often when she was a student. The tranquillity and lack of distraction created an ambience, which proved to be an extremely conducive and productive environment in which to study and revise. Lisa had successfully passed the majority of her exams at school, with the exception of maths, areas of which she still found baffling today, in particular algebra. After her GCSEs, she stayed on at sixth form, studying and passing A levels in English, Music and History, gaining good qualifications in all three subjects. Unsure at that time of how to continue and with financial considerations or rather lack of finances, she opted out of progressing onto university. Instead, she had drifted along, taking employment in shops, bars and now cafes, so she could indulge her true passion, which was music and singing.
Her laid back approach to life exasperated her driven, ambitious and affluent parents, and her lack of a ‘proper career’, had been a major concern and a constant talking issue during family meals and get-togethers. Her father, who was a tall, dark haired, gentle man in his mid-fifties, worked for the local police force, serving for twenty five years. He was held in high esteem by many within the local community due to his integrity, decency and forthright, straight talking manner. Over the years, he had accumulated respect from professionals and labourers alike, and his evenings were often interrupted dealing with local domestic issues and by requests of advice. Lisa’s mother was more of an academic; she was petite, with short sandy coloured hair, twinkling blue eyes and a captivating smile, which quickly warmed her to clients. She had studied law at the city’s university, and with her quick wit and intellect and ambitious nature, she had successfully graduated with flying colours. Jayne Reynolds was currently employed as a partner at the High Street solicitors, Reynolds and Frasers. Her mother’s office was on the same street where Lisa worked, and she often popped in for a quick chat, a coffee and a slice of carrot cake during her lunch break.
Lisa had two siblings, of which she was the youngest. Her brother Joe, lived and worked in the city as a banker. He was three years older than Lisa and very similar to his mother, in both his looks and personality. His height of six foot two, however, came from genes inherited from his father. Joe Reynolds was a bachelor; married to his job. His various girlfriends over the years had always come second best to his career, apart from a dalliance a few years ago, which had verged on the edge of engagement before dwindling out. Joe owned a gorgeous city apartment, in an enviable location, which was decorated with minimalist and modern furnishings. Lisa visited her brother regularly during holidays, Christmas and birthdays, and he travelled to Little Hamsden whenever his busy schedule would permit it. As children, they had been close and still were, even though they did not see each other often. Lisa knew that she could call him if any problems arose in her life, which might be serious enough to warrant a phone call.
Ruth was the eldest of the Reynolds children and six years older than Lisa, at thirty years of age. She was very similar to her father in her personality, acquiring a very practical and methodical personality. In looks, she appeared very similar to her mother, she was medium height, with the same coloured shade of hair, eyes that were a cerulean blue and a wide and amiable smile. Ruth was very pretty and at school had never been short of male admirers. Unlike her mother, she did not share the same drive and ambition, she had married young and had two daughters: Aimee and Beth. Ruth was employed part time in the museum and had never moved out of Little Hamsden. She had proved capable at school, gaining good qualifications, but she lacked the intention to pursue a career further and was happy in her role as wife and mother. Ruth lived with her family on the outskirts of Little Hamsden, and Lisa saw her sister and family often, especially at weekends, when they visited and stayed for lunch. Lisa enjoyed babysitting her nieces; Aimee and Beth regularly camped out in the spare room during weekend and school holiday sleepovers. They both adored their spirited and entertaining Aunt and loved listening to her singing.
Ruth often ruminated that Lisa had inherited her Gran’s wayward free spirit and her love of music. In looks, she was a mixture of both her parents. Her hair was dark like her father’s, and she had the same chocolate coloured eyes, fringed with long, curvy black eyelashes. She was petite like her mother, with an impish, heart-shaped face and a salacious smile. Lisa’s skin was clear, unlined and smooth. With a naturally rosy complexion, she needed to wear little make-up to accentuate her pretty facial features. In the heat of the afternoon sun, small beads of perspiration were now dampening her forehead and nose. Slowly, she leaned an arm over the edge of the boat. Cupping her hand, she gathered a small pool of water and splashed it onto her face and neck. Shielding her eyes from the glare of the bright sunshine, Lisa quickly scanned the area around her. She noticed that she was still completely alone and still bobbing in the centre of the lake. She fumbled in her handbag and fished out a pair of beige tinted sunglasses. Her eyes were soothed from the UV protection they offered, and she lay back in the boat with a contented sigh.
She was thinking dreamily about what she could sing and in which order at her next gig, which was three days away, when suddenly her reverie was broken by the sound of raised voices and shouting. Quickly, she sat up in the boat, looking around her to determine what direction the noise was coming from.
“You need to be very careful!”
She deciphered from the tone of the words, that the voice belonged to that of a male. At the water’s edge, Lisa could now see a man and a woman in what appeared to be in the middle of an altercation. Lisa squinted; she could only see the woman from her knees upwards as she was standing in the middle of the long grass. The female figure had her hands on her hips and a heated expression on her face as she turned to face the man, who had just spoken.
“You don’t frighten me,” the woman replied tersely, pointing a finger, “leave me alone and mind your own business.”
Lisa leaned forward in the boat, her attention completely on the arguing couple. She saw the man reach out a hand, attempting to grab hold of the young-looking blonde woman by the arm, but she shrugged him away angrily. Lisa suddenly felt like an intruder in what was obviously a domestic argument. She cleared her throat loudly, hoping that they would notice her and take their quarrel elsewhere, but they appeared oblivious to her presence on the lake.
“You don’t know what you are doing, you stupid …” the man trailed off as the woman spun away from him on her heel.
Lisa saw his hand jerk forward again, and this time he grabbed her in what looked like a vice tight grip. The woman was struggling and was trying to lash out at the man, but he gripped both of her arms in his large hands. She could hear the woman cursing, but the man seemed unfazed by her futile attempts to break free. Lisa was beginning to feel concerned by the severity of the row.
“Hey, are you okay?” She called towards the woman.
Neither of the couple appeared to have heard her. She raised her arms, waving in their direction, hoping to attract their attention. She saw the woman raise a knee and direct it defiantly between the man’s open legs. He bent forward, his face contorted with pain, and loosened his grip on the woman’s arms. Lisa saw her spin around and shoot forward along the water’s edge, in the opposite direction. He quickly recovered and strode after her. Lisa saw the woman running now along the water’s edge, and she suddenly felt real concern for her safety. That man looked really mean, she thought with a shudder. She tugged at the anchor, pulling it quickly up out of the water and then quickly shoved the oars overboard and started rowing towards the edge of the lake.
“Hey stop … stop,” she yelled louder now.
She saw the man pause fleetingly and look in her direction with a frown on his face, but the woman seemed to have not heard her and was still running. The man sped after her. Run faster she willed the woman silently; Lisa saw her stumble over gnarled tree roots and fall onto her knees. The man caught up with her. Gasping for breath, he grabbed a handful of her blouse and yanked her roughly by the arm. Lisa was close enough now to see the wince of pain pass across the woman’s face.
“Leave her alone,” Lisa yelled, angrily rowing faster towards the couple.
This time the woman heard her and turned her face towards Lisa. A look of fear and dread was evident on her features.
“Help me,” she screamed, flailing her arms in the direction of the lake.
The man pulled her to her feet, and with one last nasty sneer in Lisa’s direction, he yanked her away from the water’s edge and then disappeared with her into the trees, like an animal who had captured his prey and taken it back to its cave. Lisa could no longer see them, but she could hear the woman screaming. Oh God, she thought in desperation.
“Are you okay? Are you okay?” She cupped her hands around her mouth, calling into the trees waiting for a reply, but there was no answer.
There was no shouting, no screaming anymore, only ominous, deathly silence.
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