extract from 'DEATH STUDIES'
It was the girl who found the body.
Llyr had sent her into the cold, still water while he waited on the muddy bank. As she edged forward the silver stud in his sleek, black eyebrow crept upward. His eyes were fastened on her thighs. Delicate slices of soft white flesh squeezed between dirty green waders and cut-off jeans. The frayed denim trembled as the wind hissed in the reeds. She bent over. Now he could see the top of her knickers. A black thong with a diamante butterfly. Its wings glinted in the sunlight as she moved her hips. Was this for him?
‘Llyr!' Her child's voice cut through his fogged mind. ‘There's something in the water!'
She moved sideways and the sun blinded him. He blinked, shading his eyes with his hand. ‘What?' His tone was impatient.
‘Something big and heavy.' She half turned, one small breast silhouetted against the sky. ‘The line's snagged up in it.'
He sighed and rose lazily from the blanket on the grass. His long black hair fell over his eyes as he spat out the dog-end of a roll-up. He flicked his head back and pulled a band from his wrist, scraping the dark mane into a ponytail. Then he kicked off his walking boots and wriggled into the waders lying at the edge of the pool.
A skylark fluttered from the reeds as he splashed into the water. In a few strides he was level with her. ‘Give me the line,' he said, his hand brushing her thigh as he reached forward. He tugged the fishing twine hard and it snapped. ‘Bugger!' He staggered back, almost losing his balance. Then he put his hands beneath the surface, feeling for the thing that had snagged it. There was a loud slosh as he dislodged something flat and hard. As it slid sideways a slick of mud bubbled up from underneath.
The girl let out a shrill cry that sent sheep thundering across the hummocky field beyond the reeds. Llyr stood transfixed, as a bright, tangled mass broke the surface. ‘Jesus Christ,' he whispered. ‘Jesus fucking Christ!'
© Lindsay Ashford 2006