Page 50 of Someone in the Water
‘I’ll help,’ Dom mutters, pushing out of his chair. The two of them disappear, leaving just Jack, Izzy and me.
Izzy leans in. ‘Say sorry,’ she whispers into my ear. ‘Trust me, you don’t want Jack as your enemy.’
I think about Archie. His lifeless body. Then I think about what Jack’s capable of. Izzy’s warning must mean that she knows what he did too, so at least I’ll be able to confide in her when we’re next alone. Maybe that will be enough to get me through this. ‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ I mumble, looking down at the table.
‘No you fucking shouldn’t,’ Jack throws back. ‘I loved him. I’m fucking broken. Why the hell would you blame me when you’re the one he turned to for help and you clearly did fuck all?’ He sighs and his volume lowers. ‘Did he say something about me?’
Izzy squeezes my hand, and it helps me find the words. ‘No, nothing bad anyway,’ I stutter, feeling the weight of Jack’s accusation despite everything. ‘Archie was upset but he wouldn’t tell me why. I guess I assumed it was to do with you, but that wasn’t fair, so I’m sorry.’
Jack’s expression stays impassive, but he gives me a small nod. Then we sit in silence until Dom and Harriet return with the beers.
Maybe it is the more mellow alcohol, or maybe we’ve said all there is to say, but gradually the mood settles, then improves. We start sharing stories about Archie – his pale skin always turning pink in the sunshine, the female guests who’d fall for his Scottish brogue, then wonder why their flirting got them nowhere. Hours pass, and the sky grows inky black.
‘Hey look,’ Izzy says, pointing to the clock on the wall. ‘It’s nearly midnight. Almost August.’
‘God, is it really?’ Harriet moans. ‘That means I need to be up in seven hours.’
‘Ah, stop being so boring,’ Izzy says. ‘Do you know what I think we should do?’
‘What?’ I ask.
‘Make this a night we won’t forget, for Archie’s sake.’
‘What are you thinking, Izzy?’ Dom asks.
‘Let’s go for a midnight swim.’
I think about diving into the sea, my favourite place. How it would cool my skin, clear my mind. The dark water giving me the space to think straight. To believe I can get through this. I stand up, sway a little. ‘Yes, let’s do it!’
Frankie
31st July
‘Come on,’ Izzy says, tugging at the hem of my dress, her own now a crumpled mess on the sand. ‘It’s nearly midnight.’
I stare at the sea. Normally it feels like my second home, but it looks dark and unforgiving tonight. Clouds are blocking any moonlight, and the waves carry a menacing energy. When Izzy suggested a midnight swim, I jumped at the idea – literally jumped up and ran outside. But as my drunkenness fades in the fresh air, I can feel my enthusiasm draining away too. A wind gust whips up from the shoreline and I rub my arms. ‘Where are the others?’ I ask. ‘Shouldn’t we wait for them?’
Izzy scoffs. ‘Harriet says she doesn’t want to get her hair wet, which is the wettest excuse I’ve ever heard. Dom’s coming, but he was deep in conversation with Jack when I left the bar, and I didn’t want to interrupt.’
‘And Jack?’ I ask, desperately hoping the answer is no.
‘Hmm, I don’t think so,’ Izzy says. ‘He didn’t seem that impressed with my idea to be honest. Which feels all the more reason to do it.’
I give her a half-smile. Wonder if now’s the time to tell her that I know what Jack did too.
‘Look, there’s Dom.’ Izzy nods up the beach. ‘Let’s beat him into the water, come on!’ She tugs again, and I realise now’s not the time for deep chats. I pull the halter-neck dress over my head and drop it next to Izzy’s. Then I accept Izzy’s proffered hand, and we run down the beach together, and through the frothing churn.
When the water reaches our hips, Izzy drops my hand and dives into the oncoming wave. She pops back up, flicks her hair away from her face and grins. ‘Night swimming is the best!’ she calls out. ‘I know Archie would approve of this!’ Then she twists onto her front and starts splashing out to sea.
I take a breath, then dive in too. The water is cold, and the salt stings my skin, but my senses react to the onslaught with a rush of adrenaline. I burst out of the water, any nerves I felt on the beach washing away with it. I wave at Dom who’s walking into the water too now. He seems to be staring right at me, but he doesn’t return the wave, so I flip over and start swimming. Clean arm strokes, strong kicks. The water is rougher than usual, but it’s not dangerous. This is the Mediterranean after all.
I mistime a stroke, and a wave hits me in the face. As I pause to catch my breath, I look back towards the beach. I can’t see Dom now and the dim lights of the hotel suddenly look miles away. I’ve swum farther than I thought. I tread water, scan the gloomy scene. I want to find Izzy, but it’s so hard to see anything beyond the surrounding waves in the darkness. I feel the claustrophobic tug of fear.
Something grabs my foot. I gasp. Pull it up. Seaweed, I think. Seaweed vines spiralling in the churning water. But as panic grabs me, the dream tries to edge in – the dead deer, the blood. I shake it away.
It happens again. But this time it pulls me down. As I sink, I try to scrabble upwards with my hands, but it’s like climbing an ever-collapsing mountain. The water swirls around me. I can’t breathe. Can’t reach the surface. Panic sucks greedily on my oxygen. The downward force gets stronger.
In desperation, I kick out with my free foot. Does it slam into something? A sea creature? A person? Or have I got it all wrong? Am I just drunk, and traumatised, and half-crazy with guilt and grief?
