8

“We did it, Con, we fucking did it.”

Conor didn’t speak. Ella was practically panting with excitement. This was one of those times when questions would yield fewer answers than silence. Ella looked at him. He regarded the slight blue hue and swelling on her forehead where he had struck her before turning away, back to Ella’s river, trying desperately to make sense of his bizarre arrival, breathing in the river. She turned aside and began climbing a tree. There were many to choose from in the jungle that surrounded them. Ascending with ease, she soon found a branch where she lay back, draped her legs over the sides and looked up at the canopy.

Conor, usually so comfortable with silence, found himself wrestling his tongue. As she basked in a great victory, he sat - waiting for some indication of what this creature wanted next.

“You’re in my deep, Con, I managed to get you in.”

Not yet, thought Conor, don’t speak. She continued gazing at the canopy. A minute passed. Finally -

"You remember Mr Armitage's girls?" She asked.

"Yes, I remember his girls."

"You remember when they disappeared? The police questioned him, of course, but he hadn’t even been in the country. You were what then? Six?"

"Seven." Conor corrected.

"It changed him completely. I spent as much time with him as I could. At first, he couldn't bear to have me there. But he said I reminded him of Sara. So one day he unlocked the back door and never locked it again."

"But how do you know they're down here?”

"I never said they were down here with me, Con. I wouldn't need you for that. I brought you to prove we could get to them, in his deep.”