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DATE NIGHTS AT THE POOL

Lizzie

NOVEMBER 23, 2000

“I’ M GOING TO GET A JOB HERE WHEN I’ M OLD ENOUGH ,” H UGH ANNOUNCED ON Thursday evening as we splashed around in the water.

Back in September, when he suggested we take up swimming on weeknights after school, I thought it was only a fleeting notion rolling around in his head because he loved to swim.

But when he continued to bring it up, I quickly realized he was deadly serious. After convincing my parents of all the ways exercise could benefit my mental health, they’d practically kicked me out the door.

Every weekday evening for the past two months, at 7 p.m. on the dot, Hugh arrived at my house on his faithful yellow slingshot, with his swimming bag slung over his shoulder.

From there, we would cycle to the hotel and private leisure center in town, where both our families were members, and swim until they kicked us out at closing time.

For two whole hours, I got him all to myself, after which he cycled me home, before heading home himself.

Maybe it was the endorphins from swimming or maybe it was Hugh, but I felt a stillness in the water that I didn’t feel anywhere else.

“Seriously.” Hugh gestured to the empty lifeguard chair. “That’s going to be my seat.”

“I believe you,” I replied, wrapping my arms and legs around him. “You’ve accomplished everything you’ve ever set your heart on.”

“Not everything,” he shot back with a flirty wink. “Some things I’ve set my heart on can’t be rushed.”

My heart fluttered in my chest. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.” He gripped my thighs and hoisted me closer. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I’m right here,” I laughed, reaching up to push his drenched hair out of his eyes. “You look adorable with wet hair.” Grinning, I leaned in close and pressed a kiss to his nose. “Like a big, brown-eyed puppy.”

“What every lad wants his girlfriend to say.”

“That’s not what I mean—”

My words were swallowed up by his lips when they crashed against mine. His tongue swiped tentatively against mine, probing a reaction, waiting for approval. Shivering in pleasure, I kissed him back greedily, wanting nothing more than to fuse my mouth to his forever.

When Hugh kissed me, it wasn’t like anything I’d experienced before or since. He was loving me with his mouth. Expressing his feelings with every flick of his tongue. It was deep. It was all-consuming. Like I was the sole recipient of his time, focus, heart, and affection.

The number of kisses we shared had increased drastically since he started secondary school, and even more so since his birthday last month. It was almost like his body had caught up with mine, and we were finally on the same frequency. Hugh was always careful to make sure we only kissed, and I was perfectly content to follow his lead because holy crap could he make me feel things with his kisses.

A part of me had feared Hugh would drift away from me once he started at Tommen and was around other girls, but he seemed more determined than ever to carve out alone time with me.

My boyfriend kept his word and his eyes on me, even though plenty of girls at his new school were determined to turn his head. While Hugh never breathed a word about it, his sister, on the other hand, sang like a canary the second she got the dirty details from his friends.

Apparently, the boy who’d been my best friend since junior infants had become quite the heartbreak prince at Tommen, with an impressive line of admirers vying for his affection. According to Patrick, and to Hugh’s utmost credit, he was mostly oblivious to the attention, keeping his head in the books during class and his eyes on his phone at lunch break. And even when the really bold ones outright propositioned him, he politely and firmly declined.

“Okay, we need to stop,” Hugh announced in a panicked tone as he tore his lips from mine.

“Why?” I moaned, peppering his neck with kisses. “I wasn’t finished kissing you.”

“I’m really sorry about this.” With his breathing hard and uneven, he grabbed my waist and tossed me out of his arms. “But I need a minute.”

“Oh, that’s a real nice way to treat your girlfriend,” I cackled, spurting out a mouthful of water as I paddled back to him. “Tossing me away like that.”

“Please stay back,” Hugh warned, holding up one hand while he used the other to swim away from me. “I mean it, Liz.”

“Oh, stop trying to swim away, you big baby,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “I already know what’s happening in your shorts. It’s been poking me in the back all summer.”

“Thanks, Liz. Say it louder, why don’t ya?” Hugh groaned before disappearing under the water, only to reemerge a full minute later at the opposite end of the pool.

Pulling himself out of the water with effortless ease, he rested on the edge of the pool, with his feet still dangling in the water. “Okay,” he called out, giving me two thumbs up. “I think I have it under control.”

“Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?” Hugh declared after swimming, when we were making the trek through the unlit car park to where we parked our bikes.

“Proud of me for what?” I asked, enjoying the feel of his hand on mine, and how he always tucked my hand behind his. I wasn’t sure why I noticed that or why it even mattered, but it was just one more box he ticked for me. Another was the way he always made sure he was on the outside when we walked near roads.

“For getting back in the water,” he explained, and then, with an uncomfortable shrug, he mumbled, “after, well, you know.”

Yeah, I did . “I’m not afraid of drowning, Hugh,” I told him, moving closer to him for body warmth. Because I’m not afraid to die . “Water doesn’t scare me—”

“Holy shit!”

Startled, I opened my mouth, ready to demand to know what the hell was the matter when Hugh spun me around and slammed my chest to his. “Don’t panic,” he whispered in my ear, while he tucked my face into his chest. “You’re with me, and I won’t let anything happen to you, but I think I see her.”

I didn’t need to ask who he was referring to.

I already knew .

“Where?” I squeezed out, keeping my face buried in his jacket.

“Across the road, under the streetlamp,” he replied calmly. “It’s really dark, and I can’t be sure, but I think it’s her.”

“Is she looking at me?” I cried, feeling my body shake. “Can she see us?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied, while he slowly backed us up behind a parked truck. “The car park’s pitch-dark.”

“What do we do?”

“We go back inside the hotel and call the Gards.”

“They won’t believe us, Hugh.”

“They will, Liz,” he vowed, as he slowly retraced our steps through the car park. “I’ll make them.”

“Why would I make it up?” my boyfriend demanded forty minutes later, as we sat side by side in the hotel lobby, with two stern-looking Gardaí scowling at us. Meanwhile, I remained silent beside him. Because I knew how this would go.

“I’m telling you that’s the third time I’ve seen that woman skulking around,” Hugh continued to plead our case. “Surely that has to constitute stalking!”

“Has she approached you any of those times?” one of them asked, notebook in hand.

“Well, no .” Clearly aggravated by their lack of concern, Hugh pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. “But she looks at us.”

“There’s no law against looking at fellow pedestrians.”

It doesn’t matter what you say. They’re not going to believe us, I wanted to tell him, but I settled for placing my hand on his forearm instead. Because whatever hope he had of getting through to these people would go clean out the window if I opened my mouth.

“Where is he?” Sinead Biggs barged into the lobby, looking around frantically for her son. “Where’s my son?”

“Mam!” Hugh exclaimed, relief written all over his face. “Thank God .” Springing to his feet, he barreled toward his mother and quickly filled her in on the night’s events.

Meanwhile, I didn’t move a muscle, too mistrustful of the men in navy uniforms towering over me.

“Do you have anything you would like to add, miss?” one of them asked.

I shook my head.

“Is that a no?”

I nodded.

They looked at each other and shook their heads in silent unison before retreating to where Hugh was speaking animatedly to his mother.

Expelling a shaky breath, I gripped the armrests of the chair and stared out the floor-to-ceiling window that led out to the car park.

She was out there.

I could feel it.

The monster had disappeared.

But the scary lady was always watching.