The heavy doors close with a thud, echoing around the room. I turn in the water, feeling a bit awkward now Archie and I are on our own. A late-night swim seemed like a fun distraction when it was the three of us, but now it feels too intimate. We are, after all, as near to being naked as you can get without actually getting your kit off.
‘So, you’re Alice’s best friend,’ Archie says, and I’m relieved to be on safe ground.
‘And housemate. We’ve lived together since the second year of uni.’
‘Is that where you met? At uni?’
I pull myself up onto the side of the pool, twisting so I can sit on the edge with my feet dangling in the water. I feel safer elevated up here. ‘We were on different courses – I was doing a history degree and Alice was doing French and Italian – but she had a bit of a crush on one of my tutors, so she hung around the history department a lot. We became friends and, when her old housemate moved out, she offered me the room.’
Archie starts a leisurely crawl towards the side of the pool. ‘Did anything ever happen with the tutor?’
I shake my head. ‘Unfortunately not. All that eyelash fluttering and hair flicking was a waste of time.’
Archie hauls himself out of the pool. He has an amazing body; toned without being overly muscly, lightly tanned. I wonder if he’s being making use of the company villa in the south of France…
‘I always thought Alice would be married with kids by now.’
I cross my arms, and my feet, which I’ve been idly swishing through the water, still as I turn to Archie. ‘She isn’t even thirty yet. There’s plenty of time for all that.’
Archie nods profusely. ‘Oh, absolutely. It’s just that Alice was always a bit of a romantic when we were growing up.’ He laughs and shakes his head. ‘She hated being at that all-girls school she and Carolyn were sent to because – and I think I’m directly quoting here – there was no chance in hell of finding a boyfriend, unless she wanted to snog the headmaster and cause a huge scandal.’
I think of my tutor and the way Alice would flirt outrageously with him at every opportunity. She wasn’t so fussed about causing a scandal then.
‘I’m sure she’ll find the right guy, though,’ Archie says. ‘Someone who’s worthy of her.’
I think of Kevin, who worships Alice. Who’s willing to stay behind and babysit our cat while we have a whale of a time without him. But of course I can’t tell Archie about him, no matter how much Alice trusts him. Kevin isn’t my secret to tell.
‘And what about you?’ Archie has grabbed my towel from the sunlounger and is draping it around my shoulders. ‘Are you single too?’
I pull the towel around my body, holding it tight with one hand while I somehow clamber up onto my feet with the aid of the other. I wish I’d gone with Alice and Carolyn now; if it’s acceptable to gatecrash her wedding, I’m sure Carolyn wouldn’t have minded me huddling up with them on the sofa for a movie night. Archie’s question is still hanging in the air as the door creaks open and I almost slump down onto the nearest sunlounger with relief. Alice must have convinced Carolyn to climb into bed after all and has returned to rescue me.
‘Ah, there you are.’ It isn’t Alice. It’s Francelia – The Goblin – standing in the doorway, with her hands planted on her hips. ‘I’ve been looking absolutely everywhere for you. An old friend of Roderick wanted a quick word with you, about his greetings card business. He’s worried about the impact of Brexit and wanted a bit of advice. Shall I pop him in the parlour? You can change and meet him there in, say, ten minutes?’ Francelia beams at her nephew, not bothering to wait for a reply. ‘Fantastic! You’re such a good boy.’
And then she’s gone, the heavy door slamming shut behind her.
‘Great.’ Archie’s shoulders slump. ‘Just great. I’m going to be lumbered with these boring old farts all week, aren’t I?’ He covers his face with his hands and groans. ‘I wanted a few days off, to catch up with everybody, but I can’t seem to escape work.’
‘It’s because you’re such a good boy.’ I can’t help teasing Archie. I honestly thought Francelia was either going to pinch his cheeks or pat him on the head when she’d said it.
Archie groans again. ‘Don’t. It’s so embarrassing. She thinks I’m this angelic little boy, but I’m really not.’
‘Really?’ I can’t mask the scepticism in my voice. ‘But you are going to do as you’re told and help that guy out, aren’t you?’
‘I suppose I have to. Or…’ A grin spreads across Archie’s face. ‘We could hide. Get out of here before she comes back.’
‘What, like hide and seek?’
‘More like hide and stay out of the way for as long as possible. Please don’t make me go and talk business with that guy.’ Archie shoots me a pleading look, his eyebrows pulled down low.
‘But where would we go?’
Archie holds out a hand and I find myself taking it. ‘I know the perfect place.’
My feet are still damp and sliding about uncomfortably in my flip-flops, and my cover-up is sticking to my wet body like a second skin, but Archie insisted there was no time to dry off properly. We scurry around the perimeter of the pool until we reach a door that leads out onto a vast lawn at the back of the property, ensuring we don’t run into Francelia inside the castle. I feel an instant chill on my damp body as we step outside, but there’s no chance to complain as we’re off, tearing across the lawn towards a little wood in the distance. I’m gasping for breath long before we reach the first tree and disappear into the canopy of leaves.
‘Excuse me while I lay down and die, right here,’ I say between raspy breaths once it feels safe to stop. My hands are on my knees, my shoulders heaving with the effort of putting oxygen into my unfit body.
‘Sorry,’ Archie says, and I’m disconcerted to hear the lack of near-to-death wheezing. ‘It’s not much further.’
What? We’re not going to stop here?
‘I don’t think Francelia’s going to come all the way out here.’ She’s probably in the pool room right now, wondering where we’ve disappeared to, but I doubt her first thoughts are going to turn to the wooded area three gazillion miles away.
‘I’m not taking any chances. Would you like me to carry you the rest of the way?’
I give a snort of derision. ‘Absolutely not. I have legs, thank you very much.’ Even if they have turned to jelly.
‘You like to assert your independence,’ Archie says as we set off again. It’s pretty much pitch-black under the trees, with only tiny slivers of moonlight finding their way through the foliage, but he seems to know where he’s going anyway.
‘Don’t you?’
There’s a small pause while Archie ponders my question. ‘Fair point. But do you mind if I hold your hand?’
‘Are you afraid the big, bad wolves are going to find us?’ I’m teasing, but I manage to scare myself a little bit. I hope there aren’t actually any wolves out here. Do wolves live in Cheshire villages?
‘I was thinking more of your safety,’ Archie says. ‘I know where I’m going but it’s dark and unfamiliar to you. Plus, you’re wearing a pair of flimsy flip-flops.’
He isn’t wrong. I’ve nearly tripped over twigs and tree roots a couple of times (though I won’t admit this to Archie after the whole asserting my independence thing). I reach out and take Archie’s proffered hand, hating the instant relief I feel at having an anchor.
‘Where are we going?’ I ask as we take a sharp turn around the wide trunk of a tree.
‘To the umbrella tree.’ Archie guides me slowly forward, our steps careful as we navigate the uneven carpet of old twigs, leaves and mulch.
‘The what?’ I jump at the sound of a twig snapping underfoot but manage not to yelp.
‘Didn’t Alice ever tell you about the umbrella tree?’
Archie veers to the left and I follow. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘This.’ Archie stops so suddenly, I almost careen into the back of him. ‘Welcome to the umbrella tree.’
The tree before us is at odds with its neighbours. Rather than its leaves spreading up towards the sun (or moon at this moment in time), this tree’s branches sweep down towards the ground.
‘It isn’t in bloom at the moment, but it’s actually a weeping cherry blossom,’ Archie says as he sweeps aside the branches so we can step underneath. ‘In the spring, when it’s full of blossom, the branches create a perfect dome to shelter under, which is why we used to call it the umbrella tree.’
It’s so quiet and peaceful in the woods, with only the faint sound of a trickling stream nearby. The ground is soft and spongy underneath the canopy, and it’s even darker. More intimate. I feel a shiver and hope it’s due to the fact I’m still wearing a damp swimsuit underneath my thin cover-up, my hair still wet from the pool.
‘We used to hang out here as kids,’ Archie says, his voice barely above a whisper for some reason. ‘It was the perfect hideaway. We’d spend hours under here; plotting pranks, gossiping, playing truth or dare. Alice really never mentioned it?’
I shake my head, though I’m not sure Archie can see it. ‘Nope. She never said a thing about an umbrella tree. She never really spoke about her time here at the castle.’ Because of Francelia and that stupid necklace, I add to myself.
‘I used to love spending my summers and Christmases here with the others.’
We’re still holding hands, I realise, and gently remove mine, covering up the extrication by wandering over to one of the branches and running my finger over the bumpy surface.
‘It sounds like the perfect place to spend your childhood.’
I know Alice craved the attention of her father growing up and often felt pushed aside and foisted upon her grandparents during the holidays, but there were worse places to be, surely. My great aunt’s house springs to mind. There was no umbrella tree in Great Aunt Dorothy’s postage stamp-sized garden. There were no games of truth or dare, and any pranks would have been severely punished. And it wasn’t much more fun staying at home with Mum and her myriad boyfriends. I never knew whose face was going to greet me in the mornings, though I knew they wouldn’t stick around for long.
‘I’ve never been happier than the times I spent here growing up.’ Archie’s voice is low and wistful. He feels very close all of a sudden, as though the branches of the umbrella tree are closing in and squeezing us together.
‘Doesn’t the sound of that stream make you want to pee?’
Archie laughs, and whatever spell has been cast over us is broken. Archie takes a step away, sweeping back the branches. ‘Maybe we should get back. Alice might be wondering where you are.’
I allow Archie to lead the way out of the umbrella tree and I’m relieved when he doesn’t offer me his hand this time, even though it’s eerily dark in the woods. We chat as we carefully make our way around the obstacles, and I’m recounting a tale of mine and Alice’s first Christmas in our shared house when I realise I’m alone. I stop, my eyes widening in an effort to see more clearly, but it’s useless.
‘Archie?’ I reach out my hands, fumbling for contact with anything other than the rough bark of a tree, but find nothing. ‘Archie!’ My voice is sharper now, cracking with panic. I’m in the woods, alone, in pitch-black, and I have no idea what’s happened to my companion or how to get the hell out of here.