AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He leads me to the sofa. Again, I lie back, listening to his voice. Cyrus tells me to breathe. Relax. Clear my mind. He has me picture things – the trawler, the hold, the rising water. My heartbeat slows and I fall back into that half world between now and then, back to the endless storm. One image swirls and floats to the surface. A body lying against me. Mama. Something is wrong. I can’t wake her up. I can’t breathe. There is a poison in the air, filling my lungs, squeezing my chest. I try to sit up. I topple over. The poison is stinging my eyes and choking me, making me cough and inhale and cough and inhale.
Mama’s chest sighs and gurgles and a bubble of spit pops in her mouth. From somewhere nearby, I hear a muffled whump! sound and the boat shakes. There is a secondary sound, a buckling groan, as if something has broken or given way. In the darkness, I see a man pushing against a hatch. He raises his face, pressing his lips against the edge, sucking at the seal, trying to get air. Someone joins him. Another man. They are bashing on the hatches, clawing at the painted metal and at the hinges, desperate to get out . . . to breathe.
Mama slips sideways. I hold her head to keep her face above the water. My cheek is pressed against her chest. A button from her coat was curled inside my fingers.
I am losing touch with her. My fingers are numb. My eyes are closing. The screams are fading. I feel myself being lifted away from Mama. I cling to her. My arms and legs are prised loose. My fingers uncurl.
‘Wake up, Evie! Wake up!’
And then it’s gone – the darkness, the poison. Cyrus is leaning over me. He is holding my face, telling me to wake up.
‘No,’ I groan.
‘That’s enough,’ says Cyrus.
‘Did you hear?’
‘Yes.’
‘I thought it stayed inside my head.’
‘No.’
He pushes hair away from my eyes. ‘You were there when the boat caught fire.’
‘But how did I get off?’
‘What’s the last thing you remember?’
‘Voices.’
‘What were they saying?’
‘I couldn’t hear them properly. I couldn’t open my eyes or speak.’
Memories crowd in on me, overwhelming my thoughts entirely. Worlds within worlds, bleeding into each other. Here and there. Then and now. For years I have blocked out the details, but they’ve come back to me in a rising wave, carrying debris and driftwood and the bodies of the dead.
16
Cyrus
‘What time is it?’ asks Evie, without opening her eyes.
‘Almost seven.’
‘When can we go home?’
‘Soon. Florence is coming.’
Sarcastically, ‘You make her sound like a superhero.’
‘Be nice.’
‘What if she takes you away from me?’
‘She won’t.’
A fresh-faced constable brings us coffee and tea. He’s young and new to the job and he doesn’t know whether to treat us as suspects or witnesses. Later, he escorts Evie to the Ladies and waits outside. ‘I had to run the taps,’ she says afterwards, annoyed at being so closely chaperoned.
