‘Put your arms under,’ Kit orders. ‘And pull.’
We wade through the water, buffeted by the waves. After a few steps, we both lose our footing and Kit starts swimming, holding me up as he goes. This is far harder than when I was with Josh in the cave pool, where the water was calm and there was no current surging at my legs. Kit keeps a tight hold of me, all the muscles in his arm working furiously to keep me beside him. Trying to resist the fear that fills me, I kick and pull as hard as I can.
It takes forever. Water splashes against my mouth, but I remember how easy it is to choke if you swallow and keep my lips tightly pressed together, taking only shallow breaths through my nose.
I lose track of time, only aware of Kit’s arm around me, my own aching body and the bobbing of Samuel’s head in the water alongside us. Just ahead, Anna reaches the boat. Josh is yelling, hauling her out of the water, as Pepper keeps the motor as steady as she can.
‘Samuel!’ Kit cries.
My head snaps round. Samuel has drifted away from us, he is nowhere near the boat.
Kit swears under his breath. I can feel him pushing himself on, fighting the waves. The cold chills me to the bone. A huge wave smacks us both in the face. Spluttering for air, we press on. At last, my hand touches the hull of the motorboat. Relief courses through me. Josh holds his arm out to pull me in, but I’m looking across the water, searching for Samuel. He’s flailing, his arms only just visible above the waves, further away than ever.
‘Look!’ I shriek.
Kit follows my gaze as Samuel disappears under a particularly vicious wave.
‘Go!’ I yell.
As Kit dives away from me, I reach for Josh’s arm.
Wham! A huge wave knocks me sideways. I sink, water covering my face, filling my lungs. I scrabble for purchase with my hands, but the current is too powerful.
I can’t find the surface.
I can’t reach the air.
Panic shoots through me. This is it. I am drowning.
Thirty-three
A strong hand grips my arm. Hauls me up, out of the water. Cold air slaps at my face. Josh’s terrified eyes are right in front of me. He gives a huge roar as he yanks me over the side of the boat. More hands, Anna’s, pull at my legs and waist, helping me inside.
‘Hey!’ Pepper’s cry carries over the storm. ‘Stop rocking it!’
I land with a thud on the damp wooden bottom of the boat. I cough over and over, spitting out water.
Josh’s pale, panic-stricken face appears in front of mine.
‘Are you all right?’ he gasps.
‘Yes.’ I kneel up, my whole body trembling.
We hold each other for several long seconds as the storm swirls around us. Wind and rain drive against our bodies. The boat bucks madly under our knees.
‘You saved my life,’ I gasp. ‘Again.’
‘I just—’
‘Help me!’ Anna shrieks.
Josh and I spring apart, turning towards her voice. She’s at the very back of the boat, reaching out over the side to Kit and Samuel who are still in the water. Beside her, Pepper sits grim-faced and hunched over the tiller, clearly struggling to hold us in position.
‘He’s too heavy!’ Anna yells again. She’s trying to grab hold of Samuel while Kit pushes him up and into the boat. Josh and I hurry over to help.
‘No!’ Pepper screams. ‘Just one of you!’
Josh and I freeze.
‘If we’re all at this end of the boat, we’ll capsize,’ Pepper shouts over the storm. ‘Evie, go to the other end.’
I scrabble backwards across the boat, watching as Josh and Anna haul first Samuel, then Kit over the hull. As soon as they’re both inside, Pepper lets the boat turn and we zoom out to sea. The waves grow bigger and stronger, splashing over the sides, but at least the boat isn’t rocking and tipping so badly.
Kit struggles to his knees. His face is grey and strained from exhaustion. Samuel lies spluttering on the boat’s damp boards.
‘Oh God, oh God, we’re going to drown!’ Anna cries. A huge wave crashes over us.
‘Shut up and get the water out!’ Pepper yells.
There is nothing to use to scoop up the water except our hands. Soon all of us except Samuel are bailing furiously. I kneel at the front, Kit beside me. Josh and Anna tip out water at the other end. Samuel is still prostrate on the wooden boards.
‘Is he OK?’ I ask Kit.
‘He’s swallowed a lot of seawater,’ Kit shouts back.
I gaze anxiously down at Samuel as I chuck another handful of water back into the sea. All at once, Samuel rears up, clutches the side of the boat next to me and pukes into the water.
As if he’s pressed some sort of vomiting button, Kit and Anna are immediately sick too. Josh and I stare at each other.
‘Keep bailing!’ Pepper shrieks from the stern.
I redouble my efforts. Soon Kit is back, next to me, tipping water over the side as fast as he can. I lose all track of time. I exist only in this moment, numb with cold, slapped by waves and stabbed by rain, the storm roaring around me, desperately trying to bail out the seawater that threatens to sink us all.
And then, all of a sudden, the waves subside and the rain eases to a drizzle. In the distance, a ray of sunlight pierces through the clouds. I scoop a few more handfuls of water over the side, then lean back against the small wooden seat in the bow. Kit shuffles over and sits next to me. He puts his damp hand over mine.
The others stop bailing too. Pepper takes her hand off the tiller and rubs at her face. Directly in front of her, Anna and Josh kneel on either side of the boat, panting for breath, while Samuel hunches over the wooden seat that bridges the boat’s middle.
‘So much for trying to sail to a safer place on the island,’ Pepper says darkly. ‘We’re miles away. I don’t even know which direction it’s in.’
I look around. The sea surrounds us, vast and grey.
For a moment, nobody speaks. Then Samuel raises his head.
‘Did you know that if you try to stop yourself from puking by closing your mouth it will just come out of your nose?’ he says.
I laugh. So does Kit beside me. Suddenly we’re all laughing. I stop, but the bemused look on Samuel’s face sets me off again. By the time we’ve finished, the rain has dried up completely, though thick banks of cloud remain, the wind has dropped and the air is warmer than before. The sudden silence feels strange. Everyone’s faces are etched with the strain of what we’ve been through, salt-encrusted hair plastered against heads, clothes wet and heavy on exhausted bodies.
After a while, Kit clears his throat. He looks at Pepper.
‘Do you have any idea where we are?’ he asks.
‘If we’re miles from Lightsea, we could be quite close to the mainland,’ Samuel suggests hopefully.
‘I’ve got no clue,’ Pepper admits. ‘I lost complete track of which direction we were going in about an hour ago and it’s too cloudy to work out where the sun is, so . . .’
‘So . . .’ Josh says. ‘We’re lost at sea, with no food and no water, and no idea how to get to the mainland.’
‘Yup.’ Pepper gives a mirthless chuckle. ‘That pretty much sums it up.’
Silence falls over the boat again. Anxiety twists in my stomach. Samuel said human beings can survive three days without drinking water, but I can’t see the six of us lasting half that long. I wonder what time it is. The light is already fading. I don’t want to think about what sort of state we’ll all be in when the pitch-black of night falls, or if another storm whips up.
I glance down at Kit’s hand on the hull next to mine. I point to his watch, a vague memory of our first proper conversation flitting into my head. ‘Didn’t you say . . .’
‘You’re right!’ Kit straightens up. ‘I completely forgot. My watch is a compass.’
Josh whistles. ‘I take back everything I said about you being a Boy Scout.’
Kit snaps the clasp off his wrist and hands it to Samuel, who p
asses it back to Pepper. She squints down at the screen, then sets it on the bench beside her.
‘OK,’ she says, ‘according to this, we’re pointing north, but we need to be . . .’
‘. . . heading east,’ Kit says.
‘South-east,’ Pepper corrects.
‘That’s right,’ Josh agrees.
‘You’re saying if we go south-east then we’ll end up on the mainland?’ Anna asks.
‘Yes,’ Pepper says.
Kit beams and hugs me. I glance at Josh. He’s watching us with a resigned expression on his face. He catches my eye and looks away.
I try to wriggle back from Kit, but before I can stop him he takes my face in his hands and kisses my mouth. It isn’t an intimate kiss, more a big, happy smack of one, but I still feel bad that Josh has to witness it.
My chest tightens. Truth is I wish it were Josh I was kissing. But I’ve chosen Kit. And Kit will be devastated if I pull away from him now.
I put my head in my hands. It’s stupid to be worrying about Kit and Josh. All six of us could be dead by morning if we don’t find dry land soon.
‘So what’s this all about, Evie?’ Pepper asks as the boat motors on.
‘Yeah, if Lomax isn’t covering anything up, who on earth would pay Bunnock to try and kill you?’ Josh adds.
I shiver.
‘Do you have to bring that up?’ Kit snaps at him.
‘No, Josh is right,’ I say, not looking at either of them. ‘I need to know what this is all about. I mean, why would anyone want me dead?’
‘Do you have any enemies, Evie?’ Pepper asks, raising her eyebrows dramatically.
‘No,’ I say.
‘Of course she doesn’t,’ Kit says with a scowl. ‘Everyone likes Evie.’
Pepper rolls her eyes.
‘No,’ I say. ‘That’s not true. For example my parents . . .’ I hesitate. ‘That is, my dad and the mum I grew up with . . . I don’t think they like me very much since I found out about my real mum and that they’d been lying to me for years.’
My mind goes back to home and the many rows of the past two months. Those fights suddenly seem silly. After all, maybe Andrew and Janet did keep the truth – and my grandparents and uncle – away from me, but I can see now that one lie could easily have led to others and that there probably never seemed like a good time to tell me something so momentous.
In my heart, I know that Andrew and Janet have only ever wanted the best for me. I think of their stricken faces when Mr Treeves revealed the truth about Irina. Sitting here, cold and hungry and wet through, it occurs to me that perhaps they were keeping their secret not to protect themselves, but to protect me. Because they love me. I suck in my breath, suddenly aware of how much they both care about me.
And how often, over the past two months, I have thrown their love back in their faces.
‘To be honest, my parents have good reason not to like me right now,’ I say quietly.
Kit gives me another hug. ‘How could anyone not like you,’ he says. ‘You’re so pretty and nice.’
Across the boat, Pepper makes puking noises.
I wince, extracting myself. As I turn to look out to sea, I catch Josh’s eye. His eyebrows are raised – just a slight tilt, but enough for me to see that he knows Kit’s reply shows that Kit doesn’t understand at all.
‘Prima donna,’ Josh mouths, his eyes sparkling with affection.
I blush, turning away. Josh is right. Andrew and Janet should have told me the truth far, far sooner than they did, but I was selfish too, only thinking about what I wanted. And it all stemmed from my idolizing Irina, a genuine prima donna, a prima ballerina. But Irina earned her status as an amazing performer: she had style and grace and talent.
I’m just a kid with two left feet and a dream of being special that is never, ever going to come true.
A hard lump lodges itself in my throat. I swallow it painfully down, fighting back the tears that threaten to trickle down my cheeks. The boat chugs on. After another hour or so, the sun finally comes out from behind the clouds, lowering gently towards the horizon, and it’s now clear that we are, as Kit’s compass indicates, definitely heading south-east.
‘How much further?’ Anna asks.
‘No idea,’ Pepper says.
‘Did you know that seventy-per-cent of the earth’s surface is covered by water?’ Samuel asks.
‘Good to know,’ Josh says with a sigh. ‘It can’t be much further. The original boat trip over to the island only took about half an hour. We’ve been out on the water for much longer.’
‘Yeah, but we don’t know how far north we drifted before we started steering south-east,’ Kit says.
We all fall silent again, the only sound now the occasional squawk of a seagull and the monotonous drone of the boat’s engine.
And then the engine’s steady chug sputters and stops.
‘What’s happening?’ Anna asks.
Pepper bends over the engine, pulling something, pressing something else. I hold my breath as she straightens up and surveys the rest of us. She throws her hands up in that theatrical way of hers. But despite the overly dramatic gesture there is real worry in her eyes.
‘More good news, guys,’ she says. ‘We’re out of fuel.’
Thirty-four
Hours pass. Night falls and the sky is scattered with stars. A cold wind blows across the boat and the six of us lie inside it, top to tail. We’re freezing. My clothes are damp against my skin, I’m dirty, my hair is matted and, like the others, I am desperate for a drink of water.
On either side of me, Kit and Anna are fast asleep. Josh, Pepper and Samuel lie at the other end of the boat, but, as there isn’t room for us to stretch out, our legs are necessarily touching. Pepper’s salt-stiffened trouser bottoms rest against mine. Cramped though it is, the limited space on the boat at least means we are unlikely to die of hypothermia. I know about that because Janet’s auntie who I never met died of it one winter. Janet was so upset. I found her crying and felt bad, but didn’t know what to say so crept away without saying anything.
For as long as I can remember, Janet has been telling me she loved me. With a flush of shame, I realise I’ve never said it back. I huddle down in the boat, memories shooting through me – of us all laughing as we spun on the teacup ride at some funfair a million years ago, Janet holding my hair off my face as I was sick from a stomach bug that kept me off primary school for a week.
Andrew was right. In spite of everything, she is – and has always been – my mum. Up until a few days ago, all I wanted was to get away from them both. And yet, now, all I find myself wanting is to see them and call them Mum and Dad again.
‘Evie? Are you awake?’ Josh whispers from across the boat.
I sit up and the boat rocks as I move. Beside me, Anna gives a groan and Kit snuffles, turning over onto his side. Josh is already sitting upright. I glance at Samuel, lying with his eyes closed and his mouth open, face up to the night sky, and at Pepper between him and Josh.
‘Are you OK?’ Josh whispers.
‘You mean apart from the worry that we’re all going to drift out to sea and die of exposure or thirst or another storm?’ I ask.
‘I mean that you looked so upset earlier . . . I’m guessing that was about all this stuff, your mum . . . things at home . . . wishing you hadn’t made your family mad . . .’ Josh hesitates. ‘I hope I didn’t upset you with the “prima donna” thing?’
‘No, you didn’t, you were right,’ I say. ‘I was a pain in the butt back home.’
‘Yeah, I’ve been thinking that maybe I was too.’
‘Really?’
Josh nods. ‘It was something Lomax said after we got stuck in that cave, how making jokes is a defence mech— Anyway, it doesn’t matter now.’ He frowns. ‘I was just wondering if, on top of dealing with all the danger, maybe you were sad that your mum’s ghost wasn’t real.’
I think about it. ‘At first, I was sad,’ I say. ‘But actually now it does
n’t make a lot of difference. Irina died a long time ago. Even if I had seen her ghost, it wouldn’t have changed that.’
‘Right.’ Josh peers out to sea. The horizon is just visible, the sky a few shades lighter than the dark navy sea beneath. ‘It’ll be dawn soon.’
I nod. The boat drifts on. It’s incredibly quiet without the storm or people talking. The only sound is Samuel’s deep breathing and the occasional smack of water against the hull of the motorboat. Josh and I sit in the silence, watching the stars above us spread wide across the navy sky.
‘It’s beautiful,’ I breathe.
‘It is.’ Josh hesitates. ‘And, in case there isn’t another chance to say it, I’m happy for you if you’re happy with Kit.’
I shoot a look at him, but before I can speak Pepper is scrambling to her knees, pointing across the sea.
‘Look!’ she cries. ‘Land! We’re heading for land!’
I scan the horizon. A dark ridge rises up over the sea, its uneven edges just visible against the deep velvety blue of the sky.
‘Are we really going towards it?’ I ask anxiously.
‘Yes,’ Josh says. ‘But we can still help the boat along.’ He reaches into the water and, using his arm like an oar, propels the Aurora forward. I join him, forgetting my parched throat as I pull at the gentle waves. Pepper is shaking the others awake. Soon everyone is up, kneeling three on each side of the boat, helping to steer it towards land.
In less than half an hour, we’re scrambling ashore. Everyone jumps out of the boat and pulls it onto the dark beach.
‘Where the hell are we?’ Josh asks.
‘Could be anywhere along the coast, I guess,’ Kit says. ‘I can’t see any lights.’
Shivering in the cool night air, the six of us trudge along the beach. There are still plenty of stars in view, but the moon is a soft smudge behind the night clouds and, as Kit says, there are no electric lights of any kind.
‘This place is deserted,’ I say.
‘Wait, what’s that?’ Pepper asks.
I follow her pointing finger to an old brick house. No lights are on inside, but I can just make out the slope of its roof and a row of boarded-up windows along the first floor.