Chapter 38
‘Nick, help! My boot!’ Gemma heard the alarm in her voice as if that, too, belonged to another person. Her bucket swung frantically as she waved her arms at him.
‘Don’t move,’ he said.
‘I’m not. I can’t!’
‘Okay, I’m coming.’
Even though he was now about three metres away, Nick didn’t rush, which she’d have liked him to. Instead, he carefully tip-toed so he didn’t get caught himself. ‘You must have hit a sink hole,’ he said. ‘They can suck you in.’
‘I know, Nick. It’s happening right now.’ Gemma didn’t want to panic but his laissez-faire manner was making her agitated.
Gemma tried to put less pressure on her right leg so it didn’t succumb to the mud. But it was impossible to maintain and only made her left foot sink deeper. Her legs were fast becoming foundation posts in the sludge.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll get you out. I think you’re supposed to keep moving so you don’t get stuck.’
‘I know that but I already am.’
After what seemed like minutes not seconds, Nick was close enough to reach out and grab her. He got an arm and pulled. The only thing that moved was her shoulder.
‘Ow, that hurts,’ she cried.
‘Sorry, but better a dislocation than drowning by mud.’
‘I’m hoping those aren’t my only two options.’
‘Ready, go.’ He yanked again but she didn’t budge. ‘You’re going to have to take your foot out of the boot,’ he said.
‘I’m not doing that.’
‘It’s just a boot.’
‘It’s my ex-mother-in-law’s.’
‘Who cares?’
‘I do.’
‘Oh, no,’ Nick said looking past her. ‘Don’t panic, but the water’s coming in pretty damn quickly.’
‘What? I thought you said the tides …?’ Gemma turned to glance behind her. The river water looked furious and fast-approaching. She felt her hand crush Nick’s, as her body switched into flight mode, worsened by the fact that she was physically unable to flee.
‘I did. I mean, I thought … Look, it doesn’t matter now. We’ve got to get out of here.’
‘Can you try and pull me out again?’
‘Okay, but this is the last time, otherwise—’
‘Please?’
Her right leg exited its boot completely, but her left leg sunk further into the mud. She could hear the water behind her. It was in her ears, and in her heart, as though it was inside her as well and she couldn’t escape.
‘That’s it. We’ve gotta get outta here.’ Nick’s voice had a sense of urgency to it that she hadn’t heard before.
‘Let’s call a police boat,’ she suggested.
‘No, by the time we find the number, call them, then wait for them …’
‘I really don’t want to lose the boots,’ Gemma said again, even though she knew she was being petulant and irrational.
‘And I don’t want to lose you. Look, it’s getting dark and dangerous.
Come on.’ Nick wrenched her arm. The bucket flew off and her left foot came free of the boot.
Her socks squelched into the riverbed but the momentum he’d gained helped pull her with him.
She tried to get the bucket, except it was out of her reach.
‘Leave it,’ he said.
The mud was cold, dense and stubborn. It resisted her every move and clung to her socks and jeans, weighing her down, not wanting to let her go. She glanced behind her.
With every tug from Nick came a rush of river water that covered her feet completely. On the next surge, they were knee-deep in water.
‘It’s going to sweep us away.’ Gemma’s voice wavered. They were floundering, out of their depth. She thought she was going to cry.
‘There are some exit stairs over there.’ He pointed.
‘The vertical ones?’ She didn’t like the look of them, especially as she was now only in socks. ‘They’re not always stable.’
‘We have to take what we can get. The river’s rising at such a rate. It could carry us away before we’ve even realised we’re not standing on anything anymore.’
Nick was right. Gemma didn’t wish to dwell on how much time they had before the water level rose to such a height that the force of the current would prove too strong.
‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ Gemma said. ‘How could you have got the tides so wrong?’
He ignored her. ‘Just keep moving forward.’
‘I mean, I’ve never had this happen before.’
‘Yeah, well, sometimes things don’t always go to plan.’
‘Mudlarking is all about planning.’
‘Can you stop being contrary?’
‘I’m not being con—’ she started before realising her hypocrisy had been caught out.
She lowered her head and attempted to run.
It was impossible. Even fast wading was a struggle.
Sharp-edged stones dug into her soles. She tripped on a submerged rock.
Her arms flailed and the river slapped her face as if telling her off.
She managed to right herself before falling in completely.
‘Oh, God, are you all right? There better not be a grenade around here like Timothy talked about.’
‘Don’t say that!’
‘Yeah, sorry. Look, we’re nearly there.’ Nick pointed ahead, then turned to check on the water behind them.
Gemma didn’t dare look. She could tell by the pull of the tide that this was one arm-wrestle it was determined to win.
Even though Nick was faster than her, he didn’t let her go.
His hand gripped hers tightly. The water tugged at her jeans and her thighs ached.
But she wasn’t going to let the river get the better of her.
She kept her sight on the stairs and focused on moving towards them.
It was a slow, painful process. Then, finally they were there.
Nick took hold of the metal railing as the river sluiced into his legs.
‘You go,’ she said.
‘No, you first.’
‘For God’s sake, you’re right there. Just go,’ she insisted.
He wouldn’t. He was as stubborn as the damn mud.
‘Quick,’ he said. ‘I’ll give you a lift up. But be careful.’
Gemma held on to the metal posts either side of the rungs and, with Nick’s help, hoisted herself up.
Her legs weighed heavy with sodden denim and mud-caked socks, and the rucksack pulled at her shoulders.
The narrow metal rungs were painful on the balls of her feet.
The only thing keeping her going was the fear of being swept away.
Halfway up, she glanced down at Nick. What was he still doing at the bottom?
‘I don’t know if the steps can handle both of us,’ he called up to her.
‘But the water …?’
‘Just hurry.’
She went as quickly as she could. When she got to the top of the wall, she scrambled onto the concrete.
She lay on the wall on her stomach and reached over to take hold of the metal sides.
Who knew if it would make any difference, but as Nick had done it for her at the bottom, she’d do it for him at the top.
Adrenalin and fear were still pumping through her.
‘Come on, Nick,’ she urged.
Nick proved to be nimbler than he looked because he charged up the stairs. When he reached her, Gemma helped him onto the wall.
‘Jesus,’ he panted.
She nodded. A lump in her throat was preventing her from speaking. For a moment, they sat together silently, their backs to the darkening river.
Until, suddenly, he reached over and gave her a brief, tight hug. ‘We’re okay,’ he said. ‘We did it.’
Then, as if the pressure from his squeeze travelled up her neck and into her eyes, tears began to well. She pulled away.
‘We did it,’ she agreed. Except it was going to take more than that to help her get over how close a call they’d just had with Mother Nature.
She turned to look at where they’d been.
Where she’d abandoned her boots. The tide was still coming in at pace, the water level rising by the minute.
The sun had disappeared completely and the sky resembled thick dark-blue ink.
Her bucket was a floating speck of black.
Her boots were nowhere to be seen. She shivered.
She had to get away from the edge. She stood up, adjusted her rucksack and looked down at her feet.
Yet even here, she couldn’t escape the water.
She was now standing in two puddles of it, her jeans dripping.
‘Are you all right?’ Nick asked.
‘Fine. You?’
‘Yeah. What a rush, though, huh?’ He took off his rucksack, unzipped it, pulled out two cans of beer and handed her one. She took it.
‘See, I knew you’d want one.’
She looked at the beer in her hand, which she didn’t particularly fancy. ‘Actually, I think I just want to go home, now.’
‘Let’s have this first. Get our heart rates back to normal. There’s no rush, is there?’
‘I don’t really want to be here anymore.’ She put the can of beer on the wall. ‘The Tube’s that way, isn’t it?’ Gemma pointed in the vague direction of the station.
‘Hang on, look at the state of you. You can’t get on public transport like that.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘I’ll order an Uber,’ he said, pulling out his phone.
Gemma began walking up the slipway, trying not to cry from the shock of being in danger, the relief at dodging it and the sadness at losing the boots. Nick caught up with her. His shoes made sucking noises and his trousers gave off a wet-dog type of a smell.
‘I’ve just had an idea,’ he said brightly, drinking some of his beer. ‘I could use this in my book. I need more dramatic tension and to up the action.’
‘You’re kidding!’ Gemma said rhetorically, not because she was interested.
‘Don’t you think that’s a good idea?’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘The characters are on a quest but at the moment, it’s all a bit samey.’
Gemma stopped and turned to him. ‘You’re unbelievable.’
‘What? What do you mean?’
‘We could have died, and you want to turn our real-life emergency into entertainment?’ she shouted.
‘Hang on, I’m trying to lighten things up and anyway, they say write about what you know,’ he said.
‘So, write about something else you know,’ she snapped and marched ahead.
‘Hey, Gemma, wait.’ Nick caught up with her. ‘I’m really sorry, okay?’
‘No, please, I’m done with tonight.’ Gemma shook her head. She felt so rattled that no apology was going to cut it with her right now. ‘You put us into a dangerous situation by getting the tide times wrong and that shouldn’t happen. Mudlarking isn’t meant to be scary. Ever.’
‘I know it isn’t—’
‘I’ll make my own way home.’
‘Don’t be like that.’
‘Here’s your ride.’ She pointed to the headlights of a car driving slowly towards them.
‘Don’t be silly, come with me and I’ll get out first. We don’t live that far away from each other.’
‘Guilt-payment for an Uber ride home is not going to suddenly make things right,’ she said.
‘I was just trying to be nice. Anyway, you could have checked the tide times, too, you know,’ he spat back at her.
‘I didn’t think I had to. You were the one organising it.’ She noticed the Uber driver staring at her. ‘What are you looking at?’ she blurted.
‘Hey, don’t bring him into this,’ Nick said. ‘Come on, please, let’s stop arguing. Just get in the car.’
‘Why aren’t you getting the message, Nick? I don’t want to be around you right now.’
Nick looked taken aback.
Too bad. She wished he’d hurry up and leave.
‘Right. Well. That’s that then,’ he said soberly and got into the car.
Gemma turned her back on him without saying goodbye. She didn’t want to wave or watch him drive away. She just wanted to be on her own.