He must have lost consciousness, because first there was darkness.
Opening his eyes as the Lamborghini sank into the docks, and seeing Esme next to him, and the question in his head – who was she and what did she mean to him?
Darkness.
The sensation of freezing wetness starting at his feet and moving rapidly up his body. His fingers grappling for the seat belt buckles as he tried to remember how they worked. Hers then his. Looking up to see daylight from above and thousands of bubbles surrounding them. Fighting against panic as a muffled banging started up on the door window – was someone trying to get in? Time slowing to a crawl, then speeding up again. Plug’s face distorted first in the windscreen and then in the door window as he pulled himself around the car. Fighting to stay conscious. Esme slumped in the driver’s seat – and the water rising fast. Taking a breath as it closed over his head, and worrying because Esme wouldn’t know to do that. Plug straining at the handles from the outside, his huge fists beating against the side window. He had to open the swing-up door – Plug needed him to open the door – and inside the car, North reached down, scrabbling for the handle. The door lifting. The deluge of water as it opened, knocking him into Esme’s body. Taking hold of her. Did it help? She had violet-blue eyes, he remembered. Not being able to breathe. The grip of Plug’s hands on his collar and the belt of his trousers as he was dragged out of the passenger seat, outwards and upwards, reaching for Esme. His own hands taking hold of Esme’s forearm, pulling her across, out of the door. Her body trailing after him because he wasn’t letting go. And then – oblivion.
*
Opening his eyes, North heard himself cough and retch a full minute before he felt the violence of it all scour out his lungs.
‘We’ve got you, mate.’ Plug’s voice.
He struggled against the hands, because he couldn’t leave her behind on the battlefield. No, not the battlefield – the water.
‘It’s all right, North. You’re out, and she’s okay. Esme is all right.’
North came back to himself. He was soaking wet and stretched out on the grass between the water and the runway. Blue sky above him – vapour trails and cirrus clouds. Breathing air and not water. He turned his head and twenty yards away there were paramedics and blue lights gathered around someone.
He gripped Plug – he could breathe, but he wasn’t ready to talk yet. ‘She’s conscious,’ Plug said.
Fang looming over him. Scowling. ‘Moron-person… death wish… Never known anyone…’
Small and far away. Her button face blurring into darkness. A sensation of falling into something cold and empty. The temptation. The knowledge that he couldn’t stay there.