Undine -

Chapter 7

THE next two hours dragged for Sophie for her mind was on anything but the work at hand. Automatically, her fingers scribbled her employer's instructions, her mind rambling, outraged, insulted.

She thinks I'm chasing him. Does she think that's what I did with David? Do I look like a gold-digger? Am I a diversion? A hundred women more beautiful than me? Whatever!

At four o'clock prompt, Irma knocked on the door and brought in the ubiquitous tray of Earl Grey and fruit cake. Sophie declined the offer of afternoon tea, eager to escape. The thoughts of having to make small talk while her heart was bursting, was more than she could bear. Outside she felt better. Now that she had time to think properly, things took on a different perspective.

Elizabeth's being possessive. She feels neglected by Michael. Elderly aunts do, don't they? Michael's probably all she has. She said she loves him. Loves him more than an aunt should?

But over and over again the main refrain circled madly in her mind. He'll marry one day... but to one of his own kind.

Sophie crossed the patio at the back of Fern Deane and came upon the magnificent iron framed orangery. The structure gleamed; white painted metal and glass with an interior like a rain forest. The cloying scent of lemon and orange blossom filled the air and Sophie heard the musical sound of running water emanating from the centre of the building.

Pushing through the leaves, and following the narrow gravel path that snaked through the greenery, she came upon a stone fountain, similar to the one in the rose garden but larger and more ornate  illuminated by a shaft of sunlight.

She stared down at the four plump, orange mottled carp with fins the delicate gossamer of ballerinas' skirts. As though hearing her words, the fish breached the surface, scales glinting in the sunlight. Sophie perched on the rim of the fountain, dipped her fingers into the water. The carp responded by swimming into her hands, brushing her flesh gently with theirs. Sophie smiled, waggled her fingers, as one fish, bolder than the rest, nibbled at her nails.

Insidiously, the crawling feeling of not being alone filtered surfaced again. She froze involuntarily as a rash of goose bumps smothered her arms.

'For the love of God,' she whispered to herself. 'What is wrong with you?

Don't you know? Her subconscious clamoured. Don't you feel it?

She gazed into the fountain. The fish cruised back and forth, their movements normal and reassuring.

This is crazy. I'm crazy...

It was then she realised water no longer trickled into the basin - that the fountainhead had stopped. Sophie stared mutely at the drying stonework. The sunbeams were white, hot shafts. Too hot.

It's so stuffy in here. I need some air.

Retracing her steps, Sophie pushed her way through foliage that now seemed hostile and foreboding. Above the strong perfume of lemon blossom another, sharp, metallic scent reached her.  Her heart pounded against her ribcage like a fist.

There was movement behind her, coming from the direction of the fountain. Quite distinct - the rustle of something large moving through leaves.

Sophie broke into a trot, swiping at the greenery with both arms. A thought occurred to her, a bubble of sanity in this morass of madness.

'Thomas!' she yelled, trying to keep the quaver from her voice. 'Thomas, is that you?'

The rustling behind her stopped. Sophie squinted into the impenetrable jigsaw of leaves and twisted stems. She tried to gauge the position of the entrance wondering if a cat had strayed in or maybe a wild animal. But whatever pursued her sounded large and powerful.