What Lies Beneath the Fog

》14《

I woke up feeling cold, my reading light still on, the window open, my phone on the floor.

It was just half past five. The rising sun was trying hard, but in vain, to disperse the fog. It would linger around for a few more hours before it gave up the fight against the sunshine and leave for a while. If it did leave at all.

Hopefully, it would. A boat trip in a thick fog didn't sound like a good idea. I shut the window and went to take a shower, to wake up completely, and to warm up.

I decided to wear my swim shorts, so Emma wouldn't think that I was trying to avoid swimming. I put a grey, warm hoodie over my t-shirt and stuffed a pair of jeans and even a towel in my backpack.

The water must be too cold, and in the end, we would not swim, but, just in case...

Realising that the pocket of my swim shorts wasn't a safe place for the broken key, I took its black case from the bottom drawer and placed the key inside. It was tempting to leave it at home, just this time, but I couldn't, I felt obliged to carry it. So, it went in the backpack, along with the other things.

Then I made my bed, grabbed the camera, and went downstairs to fix myself some breakfast. I tried to avoid the creaky step so I wouldn't wake my parents up, but Mum was already in the kitchen. The breakfast was ready, and now she was preparing a picnic lunch that I would carry with me. She made enough for everybody-- it looked much more than I could ever eat on my own in one day.

The smell of freshly made coffee was filling the air. After the night when I slept so little, this was exactly what I needed. There was another delicious, familiar smell tangled with the scent of coffee. Blueberry muffins.
Mum was just taking a dozen of them out of the oven.

"Mum," I said jokingly, "how will we ever survive when you go away, leaving us alone for the whole next week? On corn flakes and toast?"

Leaning closer, I kissed her on her cheek. Then I grabbed a muffin, scorching my fingers in the process and poured myself a half cup of coffee, topping it with warm milk.

"It's just a week, Liam," she said, looking at me guiltily, "and the bigger part of it, you won't even be here. You'll be camping with your father. Maybe, if you behave, the otters will provide you some fresh fish for breakfast," she responded, her previously guilty look morphing into a mischievous smile.

That sentence caused my own smile to vanish. I forgot all about the otters and camping with my father on the other side of the island. There's no way I would go. There was too much going on at the moment to go otter watching... I would have to deal with my dad. But it's better to wait until Mum is gone.

"Yes, you are right," I told her matter of factly. There was no need to make her feel suspicious.

She nodded. "Today you'll be out all day with your friends then... Make sure to be back for dinner. And don't plan anything for tomorrow, we want to spend one day all together before I leave, ok?"

"No problem, Mum," I responded absentmindedly, letting her pack my lunch.

I was finally looking at the pictures from the previous day. Some of them had a little white smudge at the edges, others in the centre... Something misty, out of focus. It had the shape of a female figure if I looked really hard. But it would disappear as soon as I looked away or even blinked.

How strange.

I recalled the feeling of being observed, as if there was another person with us on the cliff yesterday. But could it be really... No way.

Mum's voice called me back to reality when she said that my lunch was all packed and it was nearly nine o'clock. Time to get going.

"Dad?" I asked her, slinging the backpack over one shoulder and noticing that he still wasn't there.

"Your father worked till late last night. He is getting obsessed with his project. He won't be up anytime soon."

Hopefully, he won't be too disappointed when I refuse to go otter watching with him, I thought, walking out of the kitchen.

Mum accompanied me to the front door, and then I was off.

The sun was high up now, promising another summer day. The last traces of fog lingered low in the valley, pooling around the grazing sheep. Out on the sea, I could see a ferry rushing away. It had fulfilled its first round, brought a handful of tourists, and took others away.

It was still chilly, but I warmed up completely before reaching the village. The island was very quiet, even the sea seemed to be asleep, noiseless. I could only hear some birds chirping and the cries of seagulls in the distance.

The streets of the village were still empty. Will's and Lynn's pub was already open. An elderly couple was entering as I passed by, remembering that I still hadn't seen Lynn. I should go and say hello, but not now. It was too late.

I walked towards Emma's parents' shop. She was already waiting for me outside, dressed up for the day at sea, ready to swim.

I could see the top of her bikini, coming out from under her shirt, tied around her neck. It looked as if it was cut out and stitched together from one of the Monet's water lily canvases, filled with beautiful pinkish flowers. She had a similar little water lily in her hair, making it stay tight in a ponytail falling down over her left shoulder. Her short-sleeved summer shirt was an artistic mess of white ruffles and lace. Again, it reminded me vaguely of the White Lady's dress, but it was way too short, stopping at her waist. Underneath, she wore denim shorts and a pair of summer sandals on her feet.

I loved her water lilies and all those ruffles... She looked like a water nymph. I noticed a huge smile painted on her lips as I came closer, my heart beating faster and a hint of a blush spreading on my cheeks.

"Shall we go?" she asked simply, adjusting a little backpack on her shoulder, obviously impatient to be out at sea.

"Thanks for the message last night," I told her, realising that I had never replied.

I followed her down a little lane overgrown with grass that I hadn't noticed before. It was leading us among a few cottages, down to the shore. A shortcut to the harbour.

"I got your number from Dean," she said, "hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," I assured her,
"I meant to ask you myself."

Why did I have to feel so shy around her? It had never happened to me before. Like, all the girls were just girls, friends...

But not Emma. She felt different.

To change the subject and the direction which my thoughts were taking, I told her about the strange anomaly, the white smudge in the photographs from the previous day, and how I thought I had felt the ghost's presence on the cliff.

"Oh, that's so cool. I'm happy that you can feel her too. It's not only me anymore. Do you think she wants something from us, Liam?"

"I actually do. She might need our help," I said, hoping it didn't sound too crazy.

Emma stopped suddenly, making me bump into her. She turned towards me, and leaning on her tiptoes, kissed me on the cheek.

Now, that felt good, the touch of her warm, smooth lips against my cheek. I just stood there, wishing for more, but she was already walking on, leading the way towards the sea, visible at the end of the lane.

"Thanks," I mumbled, catching up with her. "How did I deserve that?" Whatever brought this on, I would make sure to do it more often.

"I always knew that Anne needed help, but no one would ever believe me. You are the first..." she told me, looking slightly embarrassed but happy.

We had left the cool shade of the lane overshadowed by houses a while ago, and now we were reaching the harbour. Will's boat was moored at its far end.

I could see Dean with a girl, surely Claire, having their eyes only for each other, sitting on board. Will was fiddling with the boat's engine, trying in vain to get their attention, to explain something to Dean.

It really looked like the three weeks without seeing each other had been exceedingly long for Dean and Claire.

"Dean, would you listen to me, please?!" Will called, losing his patience with his son.

I looked back at Emma; she was giggling silently at my side, watching the scene that was unfolding in front of us.