‘They’re pretty lightweight. And they’re another layer against the cold water.’

‘It looks quite … choppy.’ She swallowed.

‘But …’ Rory bent to grab at a bit of frayed rope that had been tied around a cone-shaped rock. ‘I think this is where the boat was moored. So if we go in here, maybe the current will just carry us straight to it.’

That “if” was so big, it dwarfed Thea. It was best not to think about it, or about anything.

She edged out some more and then sat on the rock, holding her feet up, ready to push herself in. Rory sat down next to her.

‘It’s going to be really cold. Remember to breathe. Keep hold of me.’

Experimentally she dipped her feet into the water but the iciness of it grabbed at her and she yanked her feet back.

If the past few days had taught her anything, it was that the key to bravery was not to think too much about what you were about to do. Thea pushed herself in.

Chapter 63

The air in her lungs was driven out and replaced by ice.

Thea opened her mouth to gulp and more freezing water slapped in. A huge iron bar wrapped itself around her chest and started its inexorable crushing. She couldn’t feel her body, couldn’t see the boat, couldn’t tell if Rory still held on to her arm. The only thing she could focus on was keeping her head above water.

She was a burning tree.

Her ghost balloons would keep her afloat.

She tried to keep her eyes on Rory, but the water was a hand that batted her this way and that, twisting and turning her until all she could think about was “water” and “not water”. It was a strong hand too, much stronger than she had expected and she spat out the salty water it tried to shove into her mouth.

Rory was in front of her and he had her by the arm.

Then he was gone.

A half-scream, half-strangled gulping noise came from her throat.

There was nothing to hold on to, no tiled side of the pool to grab whilst she kicked her legs behind her. She flailed but the water was now a long icy sheet. The more she struggled, the more it wound around her, a shroud, dragging her down.

‘Thea!’

She couldn’t see him, but she felt a tugging, something trying to pull her on, not down, but the icy sheet was stronger than either of them had imagined and it yanked her away.

It was not a rollercoaster ride, because when you sat in one of those you knew that eventually it would end and you would get out again, possibly a bit wet, possibly a bit nauseous, but free to carry on your day eating candyfloss and trying to win cuddly toys.

There was no candyfloss waiting for Thea.