At first I think I’ve missed the water completely and hit the shoreline, such is the force and pressure against me. But then I carry on falling, but slower this time, as water rushes up my nose and into my ears. I keep my mouth closed. It’s silent under the water. I can feel myself being dragged down. It’s a high tide; the water is deeper than normal. It’s quiet and peaceful and I want to stay here. Away from all the madness in the world above me. Down here no one can harm me.
An image of Luke and the girls flashes before me and in that instant I know I must survive. I can’t give myself up to the English Channel like this. I start to kick my legs wildly and draw myself up with my one good arm. The plaster cast hinders my progress. I can’t make out which way I’m supposed to go. Which way is up? I squint open my eyes and am surprised by how much I can see in front of me. It’s not as dark and black as I imagined. My instinct is to look up and I can see the lights of the pier shimmering way above me. They look like little fairy lights on a Christmas tree.
I push upwards. My lungs are burning and my body wants me to take a breath. My mind knows I can’t. Not here, not in all this water. Just a few more meters. The urge to breathe is overwhelming me. My lungs are on fire. I’m nearly there.
I burst out of the water and gasp frantically for air, only to be pounded by a breaking wave, which takes me back under. I fight my way back to the surface. I’m more prepared for the next wave and manage to hold my breath. I can hear shouting from above and then a splash. I look beyond the crest of the next wave and I see something floating in the water. It’s a lifebelt. I make clumsy overarm movements with my right arm. My left arm is heavy, the plaster sodden with water. Another wave breaks and this time taking me with it. I’m dragged towards the life ring and with the tips of my fingers managed to grasp the rope. I pull it towards me. I’m so out of breath. I’m panting, trying to take oxygen on board, refilling my lungs. I can’t get the life ring over my head. My plastered arm is getting in the way. I cling onto it and feel the tide take me closer to shore. If I can hold on, someone will rescue me. I just need to hold on. Just a bit longer.
I can feel myself slipping. My eyes are heavy and my arm is so tired. In fact, my whole body and mind are tired and cold. The deep water below beckons me. I could just float away, back into the depths, where it’s quiet and calm. I remind myself of all the reasons to stay alive and my body fights back again.
With each wave that tosses me forwards, the shoreline gets closer and closer. And then there are figures wading into the water. I hear the splashing and sloshing of the legs as they try to get to me as quickly as possible. I reach down with my feet and I can just about touch the bottom. I’m safe. I’m not going to die.
Two pairs of arms drag me to the shore. Blue lights pulsate up above on the seafront. The uniformed officers drag me onto the beach. One speaks rapidly into his radio, calling for assistance, summoning an ambulance. The other sits me on the shingles, grabs the jacket he must have discarded before wading in, and wraps it around my shoulders.
‘You all right, love? What happened?’ I look up at the pier. My body is shaking violently from the cold and shock. ‘You came over the side, did you? Was there anyone else with you?’
Was there anyone else with me? I look out to sea, scanning the waves as they crash onto the beach. I look back and I see Leonard careering down the stones towards me.
‘Clare! Jesus Christ. Are you okay?’
‘Do you know this lady, sir?’
‘Yes.’ Leonard arrives and sits down next to me, putting his arms around me. ‘She’s my daughter.’
I look up at Leonard but don’t say anything. It seems odd him saying ‘daughter’, but I let it go. I can deal with it later.
‘Were you with her when she fell? Is there anyone else in the water?’ asks the police officer.
‘I was on the pier but further away. I didn’t see what happened. One minute she was there. The next, she was gone. I threw the life ring in.’
‘What’s your name?’ the police officer asks me.
‘Clare Tennison.’
‘Okay, Clare, this is very important. Was there anyone with you? Did anyone else go into the water?’
I look from the police officer to Leonard and back again. Tom can’t swim. I should be telling them that he’s out there. Drowning. If I tell them and they rescue him, he could ruin everything. If I don’t tell them, then all his secrets go to the seabed with him. Can I do that? Can I let another human drown?
‘She was on her own,’ says Leonard before I can speak.
‘Okay, you’re certain?’
‘Yes. Absolutely.’
‘No!’ I cry out. ‘No. I wasn’t alone. Tom is in the water. He can’t swim.’
The police officer has a right to look surprised. ‘I thought you said she was alone.’
‘I didn’t see anyone else,’ says Leonard.
The police officer calls to his colleague and together they wade into the water, their torch beams scanning the waves. One speaks urgently into his radio. I can’t hear what they’re saying.
‘Tom can’t swim,’ I repeat looking at the officers.