Chapter 12 Mabel #3
She didn’t scream, and nor did I. There was only the wind wrenching at my hair, my heart skipping two beats, and then the sound of water parting.
I stood at the balustrade as the surface levelled and grew sleek again.
A slight ripple, an indignant glint. Nothing more.
With every second that I couldn’t see Paulina, my stomach knotted more tightly.
I had to do something – right now. It would take me minutes to climb down to the bank, and much longer for an ambulance to arrive. Time I was pretty sure she didn’t have.
I was still staring at the river. The water was dark, opaque, and I knew it would be freezing cold.
Just looking at it took the breath from my lungs.
Paulina was wrong: she didn’t have to do this.
But I did. If I didn’t act, no one would.
If the worst came to the worst, she would drown.
And as much as I didn’t want to jump, I was even more reluctant to watch her die.
Tearing my bag and coat resolutely off my shoulders, I kicked off my shoes and pulled my heavy woollen jumper over my head.
I tossed everything onto the ground then climbed up onto the balustrade.
My body was shaking, gooseflesh rising on my bare arms. My breath danced hazily before my face, and my vision swam as I looked down.
I felt a surge of dizziness, which I forced back down with all the strength I had.
Don’t think, just act.
I unclamped my fingers from the balustrade and stood up. The stone bored through my socks, and I gasped as the wind tore at my ankles.
Don’t think, just act.
Gritting my teeth, I took a tiny step towards the edge.
My pulse was hammering in my ears, and I heard the rushing of my blood but nothing else.
Except, very faintly, I thought I heard someone calling my name – but it was too late for that.
Pushing hesitation aside, I took a deep breath and jumped off from the bridge with all my might. Leaping into nothingness.
The water was concrete. Or so it felt, when my body hit the surface.
A hot, stabbing pain shot through my body as the icy water surged around me.
For a brief moment, everything was gone: my breath froze, my heart stopped, my mind crumbled away.
I was nothing but this throbbing, all-consuming pain, which took me in its terrible hand and squeezed.
I was sinking into the black – into the Cam and into my own inner darkness.
I was seven again, reliving everything: the powerlessness, the helplessness, the realisation that life’s worst cruelties could be neither controlled nor prevented.
I was defenceless, and the thought almost made me pass out.
Three … four seconds it lasted, then my head broke the surface and I came to my senses. I coughed, spat, gasped. Perhaps I screamed. It barely registered, because all I could think about, all that mattered, was Paulina.
I shoved the hair roughly back from my face, keeping myself above water with the other hand.
The Cam wasn’t deep, but I couldn’t touch the bottom, and swimming had never been my strong suit.
I whipped around frantically. The banks blurred into a veil of different greys.
Lone daubs of light and shadow, lanterns and willow trees.
Nothing else. The water itself spread before me like a black cloth, pressing itself over my eyes as it closed again and again over my head.
The muscles in my arm were weak, the cold a relentless gnawing presence.
I shivered, coughed, called Paulina’s name.
My cry was barely more than a croak, trickling away immediately into the depths around me.
I swam desperately, my eyes searching for her body.
Just as I was about to dive down, I noticed a pale flash a few yards away, right underneath the bridge. My heart squeezed painfully as I recognised the blonde hair.
I swam towards Paulina, swallowing riverwater as I went.
I could no longer feel my hands, but I was still able to grip her body and turn her over.
Her face glowed wanly in the darkness. Closed eyes, open lips, a bluish filter over her skin.
I tried to say her name, but my voice was drowned in another swell of water.
Her weight was pulling me under – I could feel the depths tugging at my feet.
I tried desperately to keep a grip on the stone pillar, but my fingers only scrabbled hopelessly.
My elbows kept knocking against it, and another nail tore.
Even the pain was dark and soft. I barely felt it.
All I felt was that I wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer.
I wasn’t a good swimmer at the best of times – I’d never make it to the bank with another person in tow.
I dived under again, using all my strength to keep her above the surface.
But just when I thought I couldn’t hold her weight anymore, it lifted.
A second later, a hand closed around my upper arm, dragging me up far enough to take a breath. I was still clutching Paulina’s shoulders.
‘I’ve got her, let go.’
The voice was very close to me, but I couldn’t see where it was coming from because the water had set my retinas on fire. Everything clouded, and I sank again. The grip tightened. ‘Mabel, let go!’
I blinked until the silhouette next to me finally came into focus. Blake had one arm wrapped around Paulina’s upper body, while with the other he was supporting me. I didn’t understand how he was staying above water, but I forced myself to let go of Paulina so he could relax his grip on me.
‘Can you make it out on your own?’
I nodded, coughed, urged my muscles to obey.
Blake hauled her lifeless body through the water, taking the shortest route to the bank, and dragged her up onto the grass.
My fingers slipped on the edge several times, but I managed at last to pull myself out as well.
For a few moments I stayed crouching on the grass, until my breathing had begun to even out.
Until then I didn’t want to risk standing up.
Blake was sitting a few feet away, next to Paulina’s slumped body. Beside him was a pile of fabric: it had to be his coat and jumper. He was wearing only trousers and a shirt, both sodden and clinging to his skin. He stared at me anxiously. ‘Are you okay?’
I nodded. My limbs were dead weight, my insides on fire.
I was so nauseous I thought I was going to throw up, and I had the vague sense of blood trickling down my elbow.
But none of that mattered. ‘What about her?’ I panted.
Blake had rolled Paulina on to her side, and his fingers were resting on her throat.
Like Jack’s had been, but different. He didn’t seem threatening, just worried. Or was that wishful thinking?
‘Her pulse is faint, but it’s steady. She’s alive.’
‘Then call an ambulance.’ My teeth were chattering, and I rubbed my arms. I waited impatiently for him to take his phone out of his coat, but he didn’t move.
His eyes were on Paulina’s throat, as if sensing something that had stopped him in his tracks.
I watched disbelief cross his face, closely followed by anger and …
fear. ‘Blake,’ I hissed, then louder, and unable to explain why: ‘Cliff!’
He jumped, and I saw in his eyes a look I’d never expected to see: helplessness.
‘Either call an ambulance or give me your phone so I can do it, right now!’ I commanded as forcefully as I could, although I had no more control over my vocal cords than the rest of my body.
The seconds he stared at me felt like I was crashing through the water’s surface all over again.
My breath caught, my heart clenched. His hesitation was such a slap to the face that I felt the tears well up.
Just as I was reaching for his coat, he stirred, the blank mask dropping across his face as he took out his phone.
We sat there as we waited for the ambulance.
Blake fetched my things so I could put on my coat.
He draped his over Paulina, but a moment later his hand was at her throat again, and he left it there a long time.
I wasn’t quite sure why: to make sure her pulse was holding steady, or …
to check for something else. Jack’s touch, perhaps, although that made no sense. None of it made any sense.
Perhaps I didn’t even want to know what Blake as thinking or doing. Because although we were sitting so close that I could feel his warmth, I felt for the first time in those long minutes like I was seeing him the way I should have from the start: as a stranger.