Read Creatures of the Pool for Free Online Page A

occultist of the worst kind,” Lucinda says. “He was up to his tricks in Liverpool just after the last war, apparently. He ran some kind of cult and published a book about his beliefs. Published it himself, though you’d wonder who for when he had so much contempt for everyone.”
    “If that’s all you think of him,” my father says, “it’s more of a wonder you’re so interested in him.”
    “I’d just like to see what you say you copied in the library so I can—”
    “It’s not on the computer.”
    “You’ll have it somewhere, won’t you?” my mother says as if she’s determined to participate. “Shall I help you look?”
    “I’ll tell you where I know it is, and that’s the library.”
    “Look,” I say, “Lucinda told you—”
    “You can believe her or you can believe me.”
    “I’m really sorry if you thought I was unreasonable, Deryck.”
    Perhaps that’s a little stiff, but as far as I’m concerned she has no need to apologise, any more than my father needs to retort “You mean I was.”
    “I wouldn’t necessarily put it that way. I expect you were carried away by your enthusiasm.”
    As my mother readies a question my father demands “What are you trying to get at?”
    “Simply what I said. You’re so committed—”
    “More like I should be, eh? I’ll bet Gill thinks that sometimes too.” As my mother wards off the idea with her hands he says “Tell us how I managed to copy all those pages out of something you’re telling us never existed.”
    “I don’t think I went quite that far.”
    “A damn sight more than far enough. Do you want them thinking I dreamed it there at your library table? You brought it me, so don’t pretend you’ve forgotten. Don’t bother trying to confuse me at all.” As she parts her lips he says “I never invited you in.”
    Perhaps he only means the room, but even that’s too much. “I’m afraid you get both of us,” I say and would stop there if his gaze at Lucinda relented. “Or neither.”
    “Right now that’s no choice.”
    “I could wait outside if you like,” Lucinda says.
    “I don’t like at all.” I’m infuriated to see him considering the offer. “I couldn’t be sorrier,” I tell my mother, “but you’re going to have to excuse us.”
    “You haven’t drunk your tea,” she rebukes some or all of us.
    Does she honestly think this can alter the situation? I’m dismayed by the notion that in her own way she’s becoming as odd as my father has grown. As he turns back to the screen Lucinda tells her “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”
    “Don’t get your dreams up,” my father says and gazes out at the premature darkness.
    My mother shakes her head and leads the way downstairs. By the time she has opened the front door while Lucinda and I take token mouthfuls of tea, she seems to have shaken the last few minutes out of her mind. As she plants her mug on the doorstep and reclaims ours she says “Better get away before it teems.”
    I leave her with a hug that feels unexpectedly flabby and damp. I hope I react no more than Lucinda does to hers. My mother watches until we climb into the Spirita. “I’m sorry I spoiled whatever that might have been,” Lucinda murmurs.
    “You didn’t, you know that. I can only apologise for him. Maybe it’s retirement. We’ll work it out,” I say, but I don’t know how much of this she hears as the car rattles and thunders like a set of percussion while the roadway roars at the top of its voice. The latest downpour is upon us, and as the front door slams the house turns wet and dark as mud at the bottom of a pool.

Chapter Five
T HE D RAINED L AND
    Frog’s-lane took its name from the inhabitants of the marshes around it. The creatures used to croak so loudly at night that householders dreamed of them. Attempts to hunt the frogs down and wipe them out always failed, and one maddened hunter almost drowned in a marsh. Once the ground was drained the frogs went