* * *
IreachNew York Harbour exactly thirty-eight minutes later. Handing over a wad of dollar bills to the driver, I dive out of the taxi and race to Pier 78 as fast as I can, praying that he hasn’t left yet. I look around for the biggest yacht, spotting a really ostentatious one right at the end of the pier, lit up with hundreds of twinklinglights.
It’s breezy tonight and all the boats are rocking from side to side. I sprint towards the yacht, thanking heavens that I got here on time, but just as I reach the bow a massively obnoxious-sounding horn blares out and, oh my goodness, the ship startstomove!
Shiiiiit! It can’t be leaving! I’m only two minutes late! Oh no!Nooooo.
‘Stop! Don’t leave,’ I shout as loudly as I can, my voice cracking with desperation. But no one hears me! Argh. I run around in a little circle of panic. Chuck said he’s going to Bali tomorrow. I have to see him now! I can’t let him get away after all this. Fuck! I cannot let Birdie down. I promised her. I promisedmyself.
I hear Birdie’s voice inmyhead.
Come on, Olive! Bebrave!
And then I do one of the most dangerous, unsafe, ridiculous things I’ve done in my safe little life. I run at the pier, hoping that my legs are strong enough to jump far enough to land on the hull deck. They have to be! I’ve done so much walkingthisweek!
With all my might and all my strength and every last speck of hope I possess, I makethejump.
AndImiss.
It feels like slow motion as I drop into the ocean likearock.
My whole body sinks deep under the river, the water flooding into my nose and ears. I feel my head start to swirl in panic, my limbs get shakywithfear.
Fuck. This isn’t good. I knew I had a good reason for my fear of deepwater!
I hear Birdie’s voice again, as clear as a bell.‘Don’t be a dick, Brewster. Don’t drown. Swim! You’re soclose!’
She’s right. Drowning right now would be a total dick move. After everything, I cannotdrown!
I try to relax my limbs and focus my brain like I’ve been practising since Phyllis showed me how. I repeat the words she taught me at Trickys. ‘If I relax, thiswillpass.’
By not panicking, by allowing myself to relax, my legs and arms start to work. I kick and swim up to the surface of the water, my dress billowing softly around me. Taking in a huge gulp of air, I tread the water as best as I can without falling into freak-out modeagain.
Above me, the yacht looms large, blurry from all the water in my eyes. I spot a couple chatting by the upper deck, sipping champagne, completely oblivious to my murkystruggle.
‘Help!’ I call out. ‘Heeeeellllp!’
But they can’t hear me over the strains of shit dance music coming from the boat. I can’t quite believe Birdie’s Big Sexy Love listens to such shitmusic!
Kicking my legs furiously to stay afloat, I wonder what to do. It’s brassic cold in this river, so I need to make a decision very quickly. I can swim back to the dock, risking the chance to ever get Birdie’s letter to Chuck. OrIcan…
I don’t know! I don’t know whattodo!
Suddenly I see a flash of pink in the water. It’s mybumbag.
I gasp, getting an idea! It’s a longshot,but…
Still treading water, I reach into the front pocket of the bumbag, being careful not to disturb the main zip and damage the waterproof integrity of the bag and Birdie’s letter, and yank out my Rescue Remedy. I haven’t been using it these past few days so the bottle is stillalmostfull!
I focus on the couple I can see on the yacht and, with all my might, I lob the bottle up towards the top deck. I watch as it sails slowly, beautifully through thenightsky.
Don’t miss!Don’tmiss!
The Rescue Remedy arcs down and – yes! It skims the man’sshoulder!
Yesssss!
All at once the couple lean over the railings of theyacht.
