Chapter 40
Annie stood on the end of the wooden dock, the one that stuck out into the Thames.
She’d loved coming here as a girl, some of her best memories, when they’d dangle their feet in the water, the boys showing off, jumping in.
The sun on her face, the smell of the river, the sheer busyness of it all – ships coming from the far ends of the earth, and the island the centre of it all.
She’d seen an elephant once, walking off a clipper all the way from India, bound for the new zoological gardens. All the things she’d seen.
Her apron pockets were heavy. She’d gathered bits of rubble on her way. An easy enough task – the island was one big pile of rubble. The canyons she’d grown up in, between warehouse and tenement, now mostly gone.
The tide was halfway out. It would be a big drop down to the water. She hadn’t thought about that. She’d never liked heights. Still, once it was done, she could sleep.
There was a boy down on the foreshore. He was looking out at the water.
She’d wait until he left.
But he didn’t leave. He took a step forward, into the water, never mind his shoes and socks. He took another step, the water swirling up over his short trousers.
‘What you doing?’ she shouted. But the boy didn’t hear her. He took another step into the water.
Annie hurried back along the dock, then down the slippery stone stairs, green with algae. She waded out into the river and grabbed the boy. It was the lad from the pub. Gracie’s boy.
‘Going for a swim?’ she asked him. He looked up at her as if he’d just woken up.
‘Let’s get you home,’ she said.