I choke as a wave smacks against my chest and I swallow yet another mouthful of icy seawater. ‘Please, Cora.’ A cough wracks my already burning lungs. ‘Stop.’

I feel a flailing fist smack hard against my temple, sending me backwards into another wave. And then Cora’s whole weight is on me, pushing me down, deeper this time; the icy water closing over my head fast. And I can hear my screamed gurgle in the instant that I realise I could drown like this – am drowning. I can see the dark shadow of Cora above, surrounded by churning, tireless water. And then I look down into all that darkness below, all that black nothing, so calm, so still. So quiet after all the rage and noise.

How can this be happening? I think of laughing with Charlie and Kelly. I think of Will; our hands touching bright and sharp in between chairs where no one else could see. I’m so tired. I long to breathe in. Just once. Once would be enough. And underneath that is relief. Bone-deep and undeniable relief that finally it’s all over.

Will, I’m sorry. The bubbles of his name escape upwards, leaving me behind. I’m sorry.

*

The pain is less of a shock than the noise – so much of it, all blended together into a muffled, booming mass of sound. I try to fight it off, to turn back to that blessed empty silence, but then something pops inside my ears, and all that sound rushes in, loud and suddenly clear.

I rear up, choking, coughing, trying to turn myself over, trying to pull air into my lungs. They don’t burn any more; instead, they feel full of blood, cold and thick, and every breath I manage to take hurts so badly I almost want to stop.

‘She’s okay. She’s okay!’

I can feel hands on me, but that’s muffled too, as if my body no longer belongs to me. And I can’t see. Everything is grainy and black, shadow and vague light. I lie on my side, just trying to breathe. I can smell the sea. I can taste salt in my mouth, can feel the grit of sand on my tongue, against my teeth, my skin. I can hear the waves now, not close, not quite as wild. I can hear the wind howling around the headlands, whistling in and out of their shallow dark shelves. And I can hear voices. Shouting.

I want to shout too. I want to let go of the shriek inside my head and inside my mouth. I want to run. I struggle to sit up. The sand gives way under the heels of my palms, cool between my fingers. Hands touch me again, push at my shoulders, and I slap them away.

‘It’s okay, you’re okay, Maggie.’

Charlie. Charlie’s voice. Charlie’s eyes, wide and dark. His shaking palm against my cheek.

I try to speak but only manage another cough, hacking its way out of my aching lungs. Charlie’s kneeling in the sand next to me. He leans me against him until I can breathe again.