Heather was there by the time he did so. She had made it to the side to snatch him from Ethan’s hands, and she sat back in a single motion, sitting down hard, the little boy across her lap, his back arched. She murmured to him the whole time. Her eyes were wild, but she seemed calm, her movements deliberate and careful. ‘Oh, no, baby. Oh, no, baby. No, you don’t. Oh, no, you don’t. Come on. You come back. You come back, you hear me? Daddy wants to see you. Your daddy wants to see you …’
While she quietly pleaded with him, she ministered to his tiny body, turning him first onto his side, rubbing his back, then rolling him over, pushing her knuckles into his sternum. It looked violent to Ethan. She put her head down to listen to his chest, his mouth. She shucked him off her lap, to lie on the floor, and bent down across him.
Ethan had pulled himself up and sat on the side, staring at them silently. He was shivering, or trembling. Meredith was crying, noisy, childish sobs. Hayley, who had been sunbathing on a towel at the other side of the garden, had come to the bifold doors at the commotion and had her hand across her mouth in horror.
Nick was at the door to the pool now. He shouted his son’s name, once.
It took less than a minute, maybe much less, from the moment of Meredith’s scream, for Arthur to splutter, cough, convulse slightly, so that water trickled from the side of his mouth, and then wail.
By then, Nick had slid onto the floor beside Heather, Ethan had stood up, Scott had arrived, and Hayley and Meredith had quietly led Bea and Delilah back into the house. Charlie stayed hovering by the door, his hands outstretched in a gesture of utter helplessness.
Nick pulled his son into his arms and rocked him. ‘You’re okay, guy. You’re fine …’
No one spoke at first, letting the relief flood them and douse the flames of hot panic. Arthur’s sobs subsided quickly, replaced by a persistent cough. Nick patted his back. Heather put her own hand there too, stroking him gently, looking intently at his face over his father’s shoulder.
As the coughing slowed, Nick scanned the room. ‘What the hell happened?’ he asked.
‘He fell in.’ This was Ethan, staring at his feet.
‘No shit, Sherlock. How?’ Nick’s voice sounded harsh.
Meredith had come back now. She was still crying. ‘Is he okay? Nick? Is he okay?’
‘Ssh.’ Heather stood up, and went to her daughter. ‘He’s going to be fine, darling. He’s okay.’
‘It’s my fault.’ Her shoulders heaved, her face was stricken. ‘I went to the bathroom with Lila. Just for a second.’
‘It’s not your fault.’ Heather smiled at her, her eyes full of concern. ‘It’s okay, baby girl.’ Meredith buried her face in her mother’s chest, and Heather kissed her tenderly.
‘I was asleep,’ Charlie said, wringing his hands. ‘He must have gone right past me.’
Ethan looked up. Heather met his gaze at once, and her eyes narrowed in a way he hadn’t seen before. She was biting her lip. Nick’s face, too, was furious.
‘But why wasn’t the pool closed?’
It felt like everyone was looking at him at once. Like he’d just been outed in an Agatha Christie novel. Granddad. Uncle Scott. Nick. Heather. Now Meredith.
The enormity of his stupidity and what it had almost meant hit him hard. He thought he was pretty much as miserable as he knew how to be, but it was like he was in a lift shaft, hurtling down to a new, dreadful low. ‘It was me.’
‘What the hell were you thinking, Ethan?’
‘I – I wasn’t,’ he admitted. ‘I just went to get my trunks.’
‘You left the cover off and the door open while you went to get your trunks?’ It was said more as an incredulous statement than as a question.
‘I’m sorry.’ Ethan preferred to stare at his feet, but he forced himself to drag his gaze up to meet Nick’s eyes. He saw an expression and an intensity there he’d never seen before, and he almost physically shrank from it.
‘You’re sorry? Do you have any idea how idiotic that was? Do you have any idea what almost happened here?’
Ethan couldn’t answer.
‘Do you? Do you?’
Nick’s words rained on him like blows. He actually flinched under their power as if they had been. He felt himself getting smaller.
‘Nick.’ Scott had stepped forward now, but it was Charlie speaking. ‘Nick. Calm down.’
Nick stopped him with a raised hand. ‘No, Dad. I won’t calm down. Arthur could have drowned.’
‘I know. But –’
Nick rounded on his father. ‘No but, Dad. Don’t defend him, not in this. He’s not a kid. Is he? He wants to be taken seriously, then he goes and does this.’ Nick was standing up now, still holding Arthur tightly. ‘How fucking irresponsible.’
‘I wasn’t thinking –’
‘You don’t say.’ Nick’s contemptuous sarcasm penetrated further, even, than his anger.
Ethan felt like nothing at all. He wished his mum was there, then hated himself for the pathetic, pitiful desire to bury his face in her skirts, like Meredith was doing with hers right now. He was a worthless coward.
Nick turned his back on Ethan, and walked in the direction of the house, holding Arthur tightly to him. ‘I’d better see the girls.’
Charlie smiled tightly, sadly, at Ethan. Scott touched him lightly on the shoulder. ‘Better get yourself dried off, Ethan. Warmed up.’
Ethan nodded wordlessly.
Heather was following Nick out of the pool house, still concentrating her attention on Arthur. ‘I don’t like that cough, Nick. Don’t you think you should take him to the emergency room?’ She corrected herself unconsciously. ‘A and E. To A and E. We don’t know exactly how long he was in the water. And we don’t know if he has any water in his lungs. That can cause a problem, if you don’t treat it.’
Nick turned to look at her sharply. ‘How do you know?’
‘Water-safety course. With swimming lessons. When Hayley and Meredith were little. It’s called secondary drowning, I think. And then on The Affair, on HBO a couple of years back. They had one. It’s incredibly rare. But he’s still coughing …’
‘If you think we need to.’
Heather nodded decisively. ‘Just to be sure. I’m certain he’s completely fine. But you should hear that from a doctor, not from someone who did a course ten years ago or more. Right?’
Nick deferred. ‘Okay. You’re right.’ He rubbed his face with his free hand. ‘Christ.’
Heather squeezed his arm. ‘It’s okay. Look. You go and get Arthur dressed in something warm. You should change your shirt too – you’re pretty wet. I’ll come with you. I’ll drive. Give me your car keys – we’ll put his car seat in our car.’
‘What about the girls?’
‘Scott and Charlie can take care of them. My girls are here too, to help. They will be absolutely fine.’
He gave her a weak, smile, grateful for the direction. ‘Okay.’
Ethan heard the gravel crunch. He went to the window in time to see the back of Heather’s car turning out of the drive. He’d come straight up here. No one had been near him since. At some point Meredith had appeared on their landing, and stood briefly, glaring at him resentfully until he kicked the door shut against her. Dressed now, but still shivering, Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, with his face in his hands, willing Arthur to be all right. He was too shocked to cry.