She was at the door before my mind had caught up. I glanced at my bags—shouldn’t I unpack first? But Nina had said we were going to be best friends, and I wanted to hold on to that promise. I scrambled up and followed her.
There was no sign of Leonora or Markus on our way out of the house, and I supposed that wasn’t surprising, considering how vast a mansion it was. I hurried to keep up with Nina, trotting across the gravel and down the grassy slope, until we reached a wooden dock and a little boathouse half-hidden among the reeds. Nina sprang down into a small blue-painted rowing boat, and it rocked alarmingly on the otherwise placid water. She looked up to where I hesitated on the dock, and she gave me an encouraging smile.
“It’s perfectly safe,” she said. “Here, you sit at this end, and I’ll row first.”
I glanced back at the house—were we allowed to do this without adult supervision?
“Come on, Beth.” There was a crack of impatience in her voice.
I did as she instructed, and within seconds she was unhooking us and pulling on the oars, and we were leaving the reeds behind us, carving our way through the glassy water. At the center of the lake was a small island, dense with brambles and stunted-looking trees. Halfway across to it, Nina made me swap seats, and she showed me how to dip the oars into the water, and how to synchronize my arms to keep us moving steadily toward the island’s stony shore.
“You see?” she said. “You’re getting the hang of it already.”
By the time we scrambled out into the island’s shallows, I was ready for a rest. We sprawled in the shade with our feet pointing at the water, and I gazed up at the cloudless blue between the branches and remembered that this was the first day of the summer holidays. Would I still be here on the last day, in six weeks’ time? I had no idea whether the adults had a specific time period in mind for my stay at Raven Hall, but I knew I’d rather be here than tiptoeing around Caroline’s apartment, or stuck back at the children’s home.
I turned my head and squinted at Nina. Her arm was draped over her face, but she chose that moment to lift it off and look straight back at me.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
I was hot and sweaty, and had no energy left to skirt around the truth. “I was wondering why your parents picked me.”
She said nothing, just watched me, waiting for more.
“And,” I said, “I was wondering why you need a companion, anyway. What about your school friends? What about the kids in the village?” I’d spotted a group of teenagers messing around in the park in the last village we drove through before reaching Raven Hall. It could have been only a couple of miles away, not far to cycle.
“I don’t go to school.” Nina allowed that to sink in, and then she added, “Not at the moment, anyway. I used to. And I might try it again, one day.”
“Are you sick?”
She grinned. “No. I just didn’t like the school much, so I talked Mum into letting me learn stuff from books at home instead. She treats me like I’m sick, half the time, so it didn’t take much persuasion.” Her face became serious. “I’m sorry; that was tactless. You said your brother was ill?”
“Yeah, Ricky. He had cystic fibrosis.” I turned my head away. I didn’t want to talk about my family. “So, what about friends in the village?”
Nina took her time replying. “I do know one boy, but he’s always busy in term time. He’ll come over this week, though, now he’s off school—you’ll see. Why are you frowning? Are you wishing you hadn’t come here?”
“No!” I gave her an earnest look. “Honest, I’m not. I’m just—it was so nice of your parents to ask me; I guess I just wasn’t expecting it. Caroline says they were looking for a companion for you, and she’s going to sort out my going to live with her in the longer term, but—” I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat. “The thing is, I don’t think Caroline’ll ever be ready to take me on permanently. So . . .”
“Then you can stay here as long as you like.”
“But you don’t even know me yet.”
Nina pulled a face, considering. “I know. But I’ve got a good feeling about you, Beth. Do you know what?”
I shook my head mutely.
Nina grinned. “We should swim.”
And just like that, the conversation was over. She sprang up, slipped out of her shorts, and splashed into the shallows. The bottom of the lake fell away steeply, and within seconds she was swimming, heading away from me, before curving around and calling out my name. I hauled myself up and hovered at the very edge of the water, flinching as it lapped over my toes, sending goose bumps up my limbs.
“It’s so cold!” I shouted.
“Only at the start,” she called back. “Oh, come on, Beth. It’s amazing once you’re in.”
And again, in response to that note of impatience, I gave in. I copied her by discarding my shorts, and then I waded into the weedy water, only just suppressing a shriek as the biting chill crept up my legs. And I discovered Nina was right. Despite the shock of the cold, it was invigorating to wash the sticky sweat from my skin—to hurl myself forward and feel the tingle of lake water on my shoulders, my face, my scalp, tugging at my hair and snatching my breath away.
Gradually, my muscles warmed as we raced each other out into deeper water and back to the shallows. It was nothing like the chlorine-fumed swimming pool my dad used to take me to on Saturday mornings; this was slimy underfoot and smelled of swampy wildness. It was exhilarating.
We stayed in until our fingertips wrinkled and the cold of the lake seeped into our bones. Then we pulled on our shorts and rowed back to the dock. The sun was already drying our hair and our T-shirts, and by the time we’d strolled back to the house, we’d warmed up again. When we reached the front door, Nina caught hold of my wrist.
“Probably best not to talk about swimming at dinner.”
I was surprised. “Why not?”
“Oh, Mum’s a bit overprotective—she worries about me getting ill, you know. It’s ridiculous.”
I pressed my hand over my stomach, remembering the mouthful of chilly water I’d accidentally swallowed. “Is the lake water dangerous?”
Nina laughed. “No, it’s fine. Honest. It’s just—it’s easier not to mention it. Come on, I want to show you my bedroom. Best room in the house.”
Again, there was no sign of Leonora and Markus as we jogged upstairs, and I hoped the faint damp patches we left on the hall floor would dry quickly. This time, Nina turned the other way on the landing, and she led me to a door at the very end of the corridor which opened onto another staircase. This rose in a spiral, and I realized we were inside the turret. At the top, she pushed open a heavy wooden door, and we stepped into a bright circular room.