She stretches her arms up and flippers her feet but the river buffets her, keeping her under. She kicks harder, lungs burning. Time slows as she pulls herself upwards through the murky water. Every cell in her body is screaming at her to take a breath but she can’t, she mustn’t. She’s so close to the surface, so—

Something hard smacks against the side of her helmet, ricocheting her head to one side.

She reaches up, tries to pull herself through the water. But it happens again. Another thump, a stamp, this time on the top of the helmet. Then another, and another. The impact travels from her head to her neck then judders its way down her spine. The others are above her; she can see legs waving through the water. Someone is stamping on her helmet, keeping her under the water, holding her down. She twists in the water, staring frantically around. Her lungs are empty and burning. If she doesn’t get to the surface in the next few seconds she’s going to breathe reflexively and drown. Out of the corner of her eye she sees a shape – small, squat, bloated – several feet to her right but in the blink of an eye it is gone. Fran swims to her left, fear propelling her away from the legs and up, up, up. But she can’t do it. She can’t hold her breath a second longer. She has to inhale. She has to. She can’t fight it anymore. She tips back her head and her lips part.

Chapter 22

Then

JENNA

Jenna is still staring at Damian in horror, her palm stinging, when Alan rounds the chair and gawps down at them.

‘Woah, sorry.’ He backs away, palms outstretched, his face creased with amusement as Damian releases Jenna’s wrist. ‘Looks like I’ve interrupted something. I just wanted to check you were okay Jenna and um … it appears that you are.’

‘Wa-hay!’ Damian’s mood switches in a heartbeat and he raises a fist in a victory salute. ‘You all right, mate! Come to join the party?’

Alan smirks. ‘You’re all right, big guy. Looks like you’re having a party all by yourself.’

‘It’s not what it looks like!’ Jenna wriggles frantically and shoves at Damian. ‘For fuck’s sake, just get him off me. I can’t get out of the chair.’

Alan jolts into action. ‘Right. Shit, sorry. Course.’ He grabs Damian around both wrists and leans back but Damian, at least six stone heavier, doesn’t shift.

‘Easy now, boyo,’ Damian says as Alan transfers his grip to just one of his wrists. ‘You can have your turn later.’ He starts laughing again, his shoulder knocking against Jenna with each heaving breath.