Another Summer (18 page)

Joe was slumped over the wheel, keys in the ignition, too stunned to think of driving away.  The noise pierced his gut.  Sudden and sickening.  A scream.  He knew it was her.

He pelted through the mud, gasping for breath when he got there, grabbing a splintered post to stop himself sliding into the water.  There was barely any moonlight but he could see at once that the bridge had gone.

Heart thudding in his ears, he waded closer, shouting her name as he scanned the churning debris.  He needed lights.  The car.  But he couldn’t risk going back now.

“Please don’t let her be dead,” he muttered.  “I’ll do anything.  Just let her be okay.”

She’d reeked of sex.  He’d wanted to make her pay for hurting him but he’d never meant to kill her.

Choking back his terror, he stepped warily onto the greasy skeleton of the bridge.  It creaked but held.  He kicked some debris over the side and took another step, clutching the shattered rail as he peered over the water.  Nothing.  It was so black, the rain so dense he could barely open his eyes.

Over there?  A glint of chrome.  The bike was wedged in the roots of a tree.  He stepped closer.  Slipped.  Cracked his head on a post.  A nail.  Blood dripped into his eyes.  He wiped it away as he bellowed her name.  Still nothing.  Where the fuck could she be?

A scrap of white.  Her top, he realised.  She was pinned in the water on the far side of the river where there was nothing left of the bridge but a beam and a jagged run of handrail.  Head hammering, he edged across, crawling mostly, swallowing his fear as icy water battered the breath from his body.

He made it across.  Slid down the bank, grabbing onto a tree.  He could see her.  Water up to her neck.  Not moving as the fierce current sucked all around her.  She’d been trapped by debris, her thin top snagged on a spike.  It could rip at any moment. 

He hauled himself along the bank.  Roots, anything.  Inch by inch.  A sob caught in his throat as he reached her.  He tried to lift her off the metal railing but his arms were too numb with cold.

He clung onto her, pushing and heaving on the railing but he couldn’t make the fucking thing move.  She just bobbed in the water, dreadfully still.

Growling with fear, he kicked out, again and again until at last it shifted, just enough for him to slide her free.  She was a dead weight in his arms as he hauled her up the bank, as far away from the water as he could manage.

“Wake up!” he begged, as he rolled her onto her side.  “I have to tell you I’m sorry.  I love you.  Please be okay, please!”

She coughed.  Spluttered.  Threw up in the mud.  He pulled her into his arms, hugged her, too dizzy and overcome to speak.  She shoved him away, tried to sit up.

“I have to find Jake.  He’s still in the water.”

“Never mind fucking Jake.  Give yourself a minute.”

“You can’t just leave him!” she screamed, crawling back down the slope.  “If he dies, it’ll all be your fault!”

He grabbed her.  “You can’t!”

“He can’t even swim!”

She wrenched herself free.  She was crying, begging.  He scrambled after her, sickened by how much she cared about the kid he hadn’t even known existed.

“Look!” she screamed.  “Down there!”

There was barely a chink of moonlight.  But enough to see a hand caught in the wheel of the bike, still wedged in the roots of a tree.  But rocking now.  It wouldn’t hold for long.

“He’s trapped!  He’ll go under!”

If the bike broke free, Jake would be gone in a minute.  Joe was exhausted.  Couldn’t feel his arms or his legs.  But she’d never forgive him if he just left the kid to drown.

“Stay here!” he barked.

It was up to him.

Stiff with cold, Evie hauled herself to her knees, clutching the shreds of her T-shirt around her.  She couldn’t see for the rain.  Crawled closer through the slime.  Heard the screech of metal as the current ripped at the bike.  She slid down the slope on her knees.  Grabbed a branch to break her fall.  Screamed at Joe.  Jake.  Somebody answer!

One black head.  Tossed in the water like a ball.  Should be two.  Where was he?

“Please both be safe,” she prayed.  “I’ll do anything.  It’s all my fault.  Please nobody die!”

The bobbing head had gone under.  Heart pounding she scanned the water.  There!  A long way downstream.  Two dark heads now, tossed along by the current.

She watched in dread as one dragged the other to some rocks.  She could see now it was Joe clinging to the rocks with one hand, barely able to lift his head.  He had Jake by the collar but the edge was steep.  They’d never get out.  And she was on the wrong side of the river.

She slid onto the wreck of the bridge, ripping the skin from her shins as she was slammed onto her knees by the current.  Her boots slid on the muddy beam but she pulled herself along, crawling inch by inch until she got to the other side.

Joe was still clinging on but the river seemed faster than ever, sucking all in its path.  She tried to run but her feet stuck in the mud which was almost to her knees in places.

There was a branch on the riverbank.  Snapped off but so long and heavy she could barely lift it.  Tripping and sliding, she pushed it over the water.  It crashed down, almost hit them but thank God!  Joe could reach it.

“Grab onto it!  I’ll help you.”

She heard the grunt as Joe tore off Jake’s heavy jacket and heaved him across the branch.  He tried to shove it back towards the bank but it was wedged in the landslide of debris and wouldn’t budge.  Evie slid down the slope, tripping on roots and trailing ivy.  She grabbed Jake’s arm, heaved as Joe tried to push and lift him out of the water.

The three of them fell onto the bank.  Joe was gasping and coughing, barely able to move.  Jake was cold and still.  Evie heaved him onto his side, her face next to his mouth.  He was breathing.  Thank God!

“Need help,“ Joe gasped.  “Have to get to the car.  The phone.”  But he couldn’t even stand up.

“I’ll go.”

“No!  It’s not right.”  But Joe was almost passing out.

Evie stood up.  She felt woozy as she rubbed her smarting knees.  “You know it has to be me.  Look out for Jake.  I’ll be fine.”

She had to go but she was terrified to be out there on her own.  It was pitch black and the endless road was strewn with debris.  Thank God she hadn’t kicked off her boots in the water.

She tried to run but could barely walk, she was gasping so much for breath.  What was she thinking?  She’d never make it to the car, not like this.  She wanted to sink to her knees and sleep.  Jake and Joe were going to die.

Joe hated hospitals.  He didn’t want to think about anything but getting out of there.  But Evie wasn’t budging without the kid.  She was obviously worried sick about him.  Joe couldn’t decide how he was meant to be feeling.  Jealous?  Angry?  Fucking lucky to be alive?

“This has been the worst year of my life.  First my dad and Granny Barbara.  Then losing the baby.  Now Jake.  And they won’t even let me see him.”

Joe hadn’t had such a great year himself.  It wasn’t all about her.  But he reigned in most of his anger.  It would keep for another time.  

“You know his father’s in there with him.  Family only for now, they said, remember?  Until they’ve settled him on the ward.  That’s a good sign, isn’t it?  That they’re moving him from the trauma unit and don’t need to operate to reduce the pressure on his brain?”

“You don’t understand,” she snapped.  “I need to see him.  It was my fault we went out on the bike.  I knew he’d been drinking but I still made him take me.”

“Didn’t you see the flood warnings?”

“How?  There’s no TV in the cottage.”

“Since when have you been into motorbikes, anyway?”

“Since I met Jake.  What does that have to do with anything?”

She was right.  What did any of it matter now?  She was obviously in love with the kid.  She had to be, to behave the way she had last night.  But he couldn’t just sit there and watch while she fretted.  He got up.  Slowly.  Everything was bruised and creaking.

“I’ll get some hot drinks.”

She didn’t answer.  Didn’t even look up.  Was that it, then?  History already?

Needing air, he found his way out to the miserable car park, sheltering under the portico with the die-hard smokers as the last twenty four hours played on a loop in his brain.  He couldn’t fast-forward.  Couldn’t forget.

She’d screwed that kid.  On top.  Head thrown back, clear how much she’d been loving it.  She’d never looked like that with him.  He’d been shocked.  Jealous.  She’d wanted more.  Harder.  He’d never heard her cry out like that.     

He’d lost it.  Lashed out.  Sent them crashing into the river and almost killed them all.  He’d have nightmares for the rest of his life.

What the fuck was he going to do next?

He got the drinks.  Gave her the usual skinny latte and sat down beside her in the waiting room, resisting the urge to try and take her hand.  She was white.  Wrecked.  Swamped by his spare jeans, even the belt too big to keep them up and a check shirt that could wrap twice around her.  He was in his jogging pants.  They looked like refugees.

She took a sip of the coffee, staring at her hands cradled round the cardboard cup.  “We waited too long for the ambulance.  We should’ve brought him in the car.”

“No, we did the right thing, not moving him.  Apart from anything else, we weren’t in any fit state to be driving forty miles, even if we could’ve found the right road in the dark.”

“I just feel so guilty that I didn’t do more.”

“You nearly drowned,” he reminded her.  “I think you can be forgiven.  Anyway, you did an amazing job.”

“I rang for help, big deal!”

“I doubt I’d have had the foresight to move the car so the ambulance would be able to get through.  And you grabbed the holdall so we’d have warm clothes.”

Thank Christ he’d left the keys in the ignition when he’d run to the crash.  He didn’t want to think about why he’d been sitting there staring into space.  He tried to think about finding some breakfast.  Something hot to fill the empty pit of his stomach.  

“So, you may as well tell me what you were doing for nearly a month when I thought you were at work?”

He’d forgotten he was meant to be explaining himself.  The question seemed a bit random in the scheme of things.  He wasn’t prepared.

“What about what you were doing, when I thought you were down here visiting your grandmother?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous!  What has Granny Barbara got to do with anything?  She wasn’t the one who got fired.”

“What?  I didn’t get fired.  I left.”

“Yes,” she scoffed.  “Of course you did.”

“It’s true!”

“So, why the big secret?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.  I had some leads.  Thought something would turn up.”

“And did it?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, hating being caught out.  “I’d been planning to tell you everything when I came home on Friday night.”

“Convenient.”

“Convenient for you, you mean.  How long have you been planning to leave me?”

“Why do you always have to change the subject?  It was the last straw, Joe.  I can’t believe you lied like that, after everything that’s happened to me.”

“It didn’t only happen to you.  I was there too, remember?”

He drank his tea, tried to ignore the lump in his throat as she began to pace barefoot around the room.  He wished he could put his arms around her but she was glaring at him as if she hated him.  She slammed down her cup.  The plastic lid came off and the hot liquid splashed over her hand.  She seemed too angry to notice.

“You’re always so full of shit.  What are you even doing here, anyway?”

“You left me a note.”

“It wasn’t an invitation.” 

“You’re sure about that?  There seems to be plenty you wanted me to see.”

“I didn’t know you were going to follow me.”

“So, that makes it alright?”

“Oh, why don’t you just go away?” she snapped.  “I can’t listen to you any more.  This isn’t some sales pitch you can spin your own way.  Not this time.”

“So, you are leaving me, then?”

“Face it, Joe.  I already left.”

It wasn’t a fair fight.  How could he compete with a kid who’d been at death’s door only hours before?  He didn’t want the kid dead, of course he didn’t.  Just gone.  Out of the competition.  He didn’t think he could sit there stewing much longer. 

“Why don’t we get out of here?” he pleaded.  “Get some rest, a hot bath?  They’ll be needing the seats soon anyway.  I heard in the coffee shop there’s been a flash flood right through some village.  They’re bringing people in now.  We were probably lucky.”

“Lucky?  I doubt Jake’s going to see it that way.  A musician with three broken fingers?  He always wears a leather bracelet.  They said it had trapped his hand.”

“But maybe it saved him from being swept away?”

“Oh, why don’t you just shut up!  You don’t know anything.  What’s going to happen about Ibiza now?” 

“Ibiza?  What are you talking about?”

“Jake’s band got a gig there for the summer.  They’re meant to be leaving on Saturday.  It’s their big break.  There’s a house booked and everything.  Huge apparently.  Plenty of room for me and Claire.”

What, she was a groupie now?  Running off to Ibiza with a band?  And she thought he’d just sit back and let her take Claire with her?

“How does he know Claire, for fuck’s sake?  Don’t even think about it.”

“You can’t tell me what to think.”

“But there’ll be drugs and all sorts happening.  I smelled dope in that cabin.  What the fuck’s going on in your head?  You hate house parties.”

“How do you know what I hate?  You’ve never cared enough to find out.”

He watched helplessly as a tear escaped down her cheek.  He could barely breathe.  He slumped forward in the chair, head in his hands.  Winced as he touched the dressing.  He’d forgotten about his six stitches.  His eyes welled up.  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  Had he woken up in the middle of someone else’s life?

“How old is he anyway?”

“Old enough.  And so am I, in case you haven’t noticed.  You can’t manipulate me any longer.  I’m not that shy young schoolgirl you married.”

“Yes.  I could see that loud and clear last night.”

“You shouldn’t have been there, spying on me.  And why are you still hanging about?”

“God knows!  Keeping you company?”

“You still think I need you?  Just like you to be so arrogant.  Those days are long gone.  What time is it, anyway?  They’re taking forever.”

Joe took a deep breath and checked his Breitling, reliably unscathed by the trauma.  For once, he wouldn’t have cared if it had been torn off his wrist and smashed to bits on the rocks.

“Just after nine.  We could go for some breakfast?”

“How can you even think about food?”

“I’m just thinking about something to do.  It’ll pass the time.  Get you out of this room for a break.  I’m trying to help.”

“You don’t need to bother and I don’t need a break.  But you’re free to leave whenever you like.  In fact, why don’t you go now and do something useful?”

“Like what?”

“Get yourself to the cottage and bring my car?  Find some clean clothes?”

“We’re already wearing all my clean clothes, in case  you haven’t noticed.  Everything else I brought with me is covered in mud.  And who says I want to go back to the cottage?”

“Fine.  Sleep on the beach for all I care.  If you want it, the spare key’s under the pot by the back door.”

Was that the tiniest olive branch, or a huge amount of wishful thinking?  He was too desperate to get out of there to waste time working it out, even if he wasn’t sure he’d be up to driving all that way back.

When he stood up, everything hurt.  But maybe a bit of kip would help sort that out.  “I doubt there’ll be cabs queueing round the block but I’ll give it a go.”

“Well, if you get one, could you see if Jake’s dad needs a lift?  What I saw of him, I thought he looked very shaken up.  I always think it’s harder for old men on their own.  Look at Norman.  I hope he’s okay.”

It wasn’t just old men who were finding life tough.  But Joe doubted she’d want to hear about that.  He thought about telling her he’d gone for Norman’s paper but she didn’t seem in the mood to be giving out Brownie points for good deeds.

“I’m not happy about leaving you here on your own.”

“Just go, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but it’ll take me a while to get there and back.  And I’ll have to organise a pick-up truck to tow the hire car out of the mud.  If it isn’t in the river by now.”

”You could try the local garage.  While you’re on to them, it would be helpful if you could settle my repair bill from the other day?”

How typical of her.  She was always so bloody practical.

“Anything else on your list of tasks?”

She shrugged.  Not even a smile.  Or a thank-you.  What else could he do but leave?

Jake’s dad had his own car so Joe didn’t get to interrogate him and it was killing him not knowing how long the affair had gone on.  Evie came down here a lot.  Not always with Claire.  It could have been going on for years.  How had he missed it?  He didn’t want to admit he probably hadn’t cared enough to look.

As he slumped in the back of the cab, he was haunted by her face in the candlelight.  Head tossed back.  Loving it.  Loving the kid who was giving her what her husband never had.  And Jake loved her back.  Joe had heard him.

It was obvious to Joe they were living together.  The signs were all over the cottage.  They’d clearly been too busy shagging to bother about things like washing up or making the bed.  He slammed the bedroom door.  Didn’t want to keep looking at that bed.

He’d eaten the cold leftovers before it dawned on him that Evie probably hadn’t cooked it.  She’d never have made so much of a mess.  He chucked the plate in the sink, annoyed with himself.  So, it wasn’t enough that the kid was in a band?  He had to be a cook aswell?  How was that bloody fair?

And the piano.  Mocking him from the living room, lid open from being played.  Joe had always wanted to play a musical instrument but had never put in the graft to actually learn.  Story of his life, if he was honest.  Anything difficult, don’t bother.

The water was hot so he chucked his muddy clothes in the machine and had a bath in the quaint old tub, shocked at the sight of his black eye and bruises in the tiny mirror above the basin.  It was right what he’d said at the hospital.  He was lucky to get out of that river alive.  They all were.  But he didn’t feel so lucky to have come all this way and still end up without her.

But was he giving up too soon?  Maybe he should get back to the hospital and find out what his chances actually were?  But he couldn’t face that drive just yet.  Or the atmosphere when he got there.  She hated him.  When had that happened?

He was hurt.  And angry at his territory being  invaded.  He didn’t like feeling stupid.  Being made to look a fool who didn’t know what was going on.  But maybe that was how Evie had felt when she’d made that call to Louise at the office?  Maybe that’s what had made her run away.

There was vodka in the fridge.  Very tempting but he put it back and made tea instead.  He needed a clear head for driving and to decide what he was going to do.

Before all this had happened, he’d been planning on confessing some things.  But was it the key to come clean and tell her everything?  Then what?  She’d forgive him for his honesty and fall happily at his feet?  And give up going to Ibiza with her lover’s band?  He doubted that, somehow.