Swimming Pool Sunday by Sophie Kinsella, Madeleine Wickham Page A

…’ Ursula’s face crumpled slightly.
    ‘Yes, of course,’ she said. ‘Poor Katie. Do you know how …?’
    ‘She’s still unconscious, I’m afraid,’ said Cassian. He began to lead the way round the house, and Ursula followed him timidly, feeling that this seemed a little wrong, but not quite sure why.
    When they got to the pool, Cassian made his way straight to the diving-board. He looked at Ursula.
    ‘This is where she slipped?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Ursula, in a distressed voice. ‘I can hardly bear to look.’ There was a pause. ‘Actually,’ she amended, ‘I’m not sure whether she actually slipped …’ But Cassian didn’t seem to be listening. He was bending down and running a finger along the surface of the board.
    ‘How old is the pool?’ he said.
    ‘Well, I don’t really know,’ said Ursula. She looked around vaguely. ‘It was here when we moved in, and that was over twenty years ago.’
    ‘The diving-board too?’
    ‘Well, yes,’ said Ursula. She looked at the diving-board and shivered. ‘I’d like to get rid of the horrid dangerous thing.’ Cassian looked up sharply.
    ‘Why dangerous?’ Ursula looked at him in puzzlement.
    ‘Well, dear,’ she said gently. ‘Katie had her accident trying to dive off it, you know, and I believe professional divers quite often have accidents too.’
    ‘Yes, but you said this board was dangerous,’ persisted Cassian. ‘Why would this particular board be dangerous?’ Ursula looked at him confusedly.
    ‘Is it?’ she said. ‘I don’t think it is, really.’ Cassian gave up. He stood up and looked around.
    ‘Do you remember how many people were here yesterday?’ he asked conversationally. Ursula screwed up her face.
    ‘I suppose … about a hundred,’ she said. ‘I could tell you if we’d counted the donations, but we haven’t yet. It didn’t seem, somehow …’ She broke off and clasped her hand to her mouth, her eyes shining slightly. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘The money must go to Katie. And we must start an appeal. We can begin at the church tonight.’ She looked at Cassian expectantly, but he didn’t seem to be listening.
    ‘And who was supervising the children?’ he said.
    ‘Well,’ said Ursula slowly, ‘no-one was actually supervising them. But they were all here with their parents, you know, and there was always someone watching them. Louise was watching Amelia and Katie for quite a long time, I remember, and then I watched them for a bit …’ She broke off and looked at him, tears bright in her eyes.
    ‘You know, I find this rather distressing,’ she said. ‘Would you mind if we went inside?’ She paused. ‘Perhaps you would like a cup of coffee. The others should be back soon and you can chat to them.’ She regarded him sympathetically. ‘You must be terribly upset.’
    Meredith and Alexis arrived back at the house to find the kitchen empty and the back door open.
    ‘I wonder where …’ began Meredith.
    Then they heard Ursula’s voice from outside, saying, ‘Ah, that sounds like them!’
    She appeared at the back door, looking a little flustered. Meredith opened her mouth to speak, then stopped in surprise as she saw, hovering behind Ursula, the unlikely figure of Cassian Brown, wearing an immaculate suit and carrying a dark heavy-looking briefcase. Her initial temptation was to ask what the fuck he was doing there, but instead she took a step forward and smiled at Cassian. He beamed charmingly back, and nodded his head politely towards Alexis with a smooth deferential courtesy which Meredith, in her mind, labelled creepy.
    ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘We have met before. I’m Meredith.’
    ‘I remember very well,’ said Cassian. ‘The artist.’ His eyes briefly met Meredith’s, and to her astonishment she felt herself staring back at him, unwillingly mesmerized by his deep dark gaze. Briskly, she tore her attention away. ‘And this is our friend Alexis Faraday …’ Suddenly she interrupted herself.