Oh. So while I’ve been trying to think positive thoughts to stop myself from panicking, Gil has calmly been calculating how likely our deaths are. How on brand of him. I feel a surge of whatever feisty flight or fight reaction he’s been having, which is quickly followed by a barrage of thoughts, all containing pieces of information I now wish I didn’t know from my yachting days – like the biggest part of us someone on a boat will be able to see is our heads, which are roughly the size of a cabbage, and surprisingly difficult to pinpoint amid the undulation of even relatively calm seas.
We tread water an arm’s length away from each other in silence for what seems like an hour, but what my waterproof fitness tracker actually confirms is ten minutes. And then we do it for another ten. And then another. The tiny balloon of hope in my chest begins to leak air.
‘They’ll have to do another head count when they leave the next snorkelling spot,’ I shout at Gil over the waves. ‘They could catch their mistake then!’
‘Maybe,’ Gil yells back, and I can tell he’s thinking what I’m thinking – the likelihood of them making the same mistake twice is high.
My balloon of hope deflates completely and it makes my limbs feel heavy. I’m tired … and while I’m not a bad swimmer, I know we’re going to need the endurance of Channel swimmers to give ourselves a chance. I’ve seen movies where this happens to people and those films never, ever have a happy ending.
The message to panic finally works its way from my brain to my extremities and I suddenly lose all coordination. Instead of bobbing in the water beside Gil, my head disappears under the waves. The shock of the water on my face causes me to scrabble my way back to the surface, and I arrive coughing and spluttering, spitting out seawater. I grab for Gil and pull myself to him, not caring if I’m pulling him under in an attempt to anchor myself onto something warm and solid. And floating.
He manages to avoid a complete dunking, but he swallows almost as much salt water as I have. ‘Erin!’ he says in a loud, firm voice, after spitting it out.
It’s no good. I hear my name, but the word makes no sense to me.It doesn’t stop me clawing at him like he’s a life raft, or one of those inflatable crocodiles that seem to be for sale at every beach shop the world over.
‘Erin!’ He’s shouting now and using his superior strength to prise my hands from him and clasps my wrists together in his hands. ‘Get yourself under control or we’re both going to drown!’
The word ‘drown’ slices through my panic like a knife, cutting me off from it momentarily. I process what he’s said and realize he’s right. I’ve got to pull myself together.
He lets go of me, and even though all I want to do is cling on to him, I manage to keep my hands to myself. I stare at him, teeth chattering, even though the surrounding water is pleasant enough to qualify as a lukewarm bath. ‘What … what are we going to do?’
Gil nudges himself towards me, and this time his hands slide around my waist. ‘Do you want me to be honest?’
I’m not sure I do, but I know I need him to be, so I nod.
He looks at me for a few seconds. ‘I don’t know what to do, Erin. I don’t know how to get out of this by ourselves, but I know one thing …’
He must see my eyes dart all over the place as I take in the distant mountains, the uncompromising horizon, the billions upon millions of gallons of water we’re floating in. My pulse, which has only just slowed down, begins to skip again.
Gil moves his hands to my face, cupping my jaw to make me look at him. My hands come to rest on his shoulders, gripping him for support but calmly this time. Our legs kick in unison.
‘I will do anything and everything to make sure you get through this.’
You.He said ‘you’. Not ‘we’. And I suddenly realize what he means and just how far he will go to make good on that promise, because a promise it was.
Once upon a time, I’d have remembered his history, I’d have remembered what happened five years ago, and I’d have scoffed at his words, flung them back at him with sarcasm probably, but I don’t do that now. Because I believe him. With every fibre of my being, I believe Gil would die here on this reef to make sure I survive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Five years ago
It’s been a few days since he said he’d talk through the night of the accident with her, but neither of them has brought the subject up since. She thought she’d dive right in when she got the go-ahead, but every time she picks up her phone she has a wobble and puts it down again.
Stop being such a coward, Erin. This is what you wanted, remember?
She grabs her phone, types and presses send before she can second-guess herself.
What’s the first thing you remember about that night, about getting to the party?
It’s not a hard question, but it takes Simon a heck of a long time to answer. They’d exchanged a few inane ‘how are you doing?’ messages about twenty minutes ago. Maybe he’s got busy since then?
How you looked amazing in that dress.
She blushes and smiles. She hadn’t known Simon that long when the accident had happened. She’d been home from the Caribbean, considering whether she should just fly down to the Med and see if she could get some work there, when Megan had suggested she stay with her for a couple of weeks so that they could catch up and have some fun. Megan hadn’t been her closest friend at uni, but Erin had liked her ‘take no prisoners’ attitude. She’d been as shy as Meg was outgoing, so when her friend had dragged her along to social events on campus, she’d been secretly pleased. She’d made new friends, met new people that she wouldn’t have otherwise. And last summer it had seemed Megan was still making sure her friend lived life to the fullest.
That’s when she’d met Simon and Gil. Meg’s brother knew Gil from work or something, and Meg had been floating on the edges of their friendship group for a couple of months. After that first meeting in the bar, she and Meg had hung around with them a few times over the space of a fortnight. And then someone Simon had a tentative connection with through his rugby team had invited him to a house party and he’d suggested they all go along as a foursome.
I think I was already quite tipsy when I got thereshe replies.
