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Dark Waters(28)

By:Cathy MacPhail


It was as if Klaus had been waiting for him, crouched by the bank, watching the swans gliding gracefully on the water. The heavy rain had become a drizzle and made the loch shimmer.

‘Look at them,’ Klaus nodded at the two elegant swans. ‘So graceful, but you should have seen them a minute ago. Trying to land. Flapping their wings around like crazy people.’ He flapped his arms to demonstrate, laughing. Then he saw that Col wasn’t laughing.

‘What?’ he asked, concerned.

It all came tumbling out. About the break-in, the Sampsons, and Mungo’s involvement.

Klaus listened, without saying a word until Col was finished. ‘So, what are you going to do?’

Col looked at him. ‘I can’t do anything. Do you not see that? He’s my brother.’

‘But, Col, he betrayed you.’

And that was what hurt more than anything. Mungo had betrayed him. He had used him. Col felt like an accessory, as if he had decoyed the Sampsons to London, leaving Mungo free to do what he wanted.

And even knowing that, it didn’t make any difference. ‘I can’t tell on him,’ he said.

Klaus, for the first time since Col had known him, sounded angry. ‘I don’t understand you. What has he done to deserve your loyalty? Nothing. If you tell the police, the Sampsons might be able to get some of their belongings back, yet you still refuse to tell.’

‘Yes!’ Col snapped at him. ‘You don’t understand. Mungo doesn’t have to do anything to deserve my loyalty. He’s my brother. We’re family. That’s enough. I’ll never turn on him. Never!’

Klaus’s face seemed to pale in the dark of the afternoon. He took a step back from Col, almost as if he wanted to be as far away from him as possible. ‘What made me ever think you could help me?’ His voice sounded bitter. Not like Klaus at all.

Col had wanted to talk to Klaus, but it hadn’t helped. Klaus could never understand. He turned and left him, running without a backward look. He ran back towards the lights of the town that were shimmering through the drizzle. He was angry and he was hurt.

He hated Mungo for this. What he had done had wiped out all the excitement, all the memories of his trip to London. All that seemed an age away now. It might never have happened.

And Mungo was probably right. The Sampsons would never want to see him again, and he couldn’t blame them for that. It didn’t matter he told himself. But deep down he knew it did. He liked the Sampsons. He even liked daft little Dominic. But he’d never see them again now.

All because of Mungo.

Yes, he hated his brother because of this.

But he’d never betray him.





Chapter Seventeen


That night the dream came back. Rushing like a torrent through Col’s troubled sleep. It was Mungo’s fault. Even deep in sleep he blamed him. He hadn’t had the nightmare for so long. Until now.

Only this time it was different. It was much worse.

Someone else was in the water with him, trapped under the ice, arms flailing wildly, reaching out to him, trying to pull him down deeper. Suddenly, it was Dominic – but this time he couldn’t save him. They were both helpless. Then Dominic’s frightened face shimmered into that of Klaus, a disappointed Klaus, wanting Col to help him, too, and knowing now he couldn’t. Col tried to turn away, angry that everyone wanted his help yet there was no one to help him. Then, suddenly, it wasn’t Klaus or Dominic whose face floated eerily in the depths. It was Mungo who was reaching out to him, but not for help.

He wanted to pull him down, down, into the murky, icy water. And for the first time in his life, Col was afraid – really afraid of his brother. He yelled himself awake as Mungo clawed towards him, almost reaching him, almost touching him, his smile becoming a skeleton’s grin.

NO!

He bolted upright in his bed. He was bathed in sweat, his heart was thumping in terror. He never wanted to sleep again.

His mother had heard his yell, and burst into his room pulling on her dressing gown.

‘Col, are you all right, son?’ She sat on the bed beside him, holding his shoulders. ‘Did you have another nightmare?’

Col nodded, wiping his brow with the edge of the sheet. He wanted so much to spill the whole story out to his mother, but it was an unwritten law that the brothers didn’t involve Mam in anything Mungo got up to. She was never to be involved, never expected to provide an alibi.

Yet, she knew all about the break-in at the Sampsons, and Col was convinced she knew that Mungo was responsible. Col had been disappointed when she didn’t challenge him about it, hadn’t been angry with him. It was as if what Mungo did was his business and not hers.