Fran toyed with the notion of taking her towel and having a paddle. But seeing that the river was still high, left her bag beside Sally and, adjusting her visor, put her hands in her pockets and strolled away. As she searched for Caroline, she’d take a few pictures for Sid so he could see the countryside. Fran began her river walk and was pleased she’d worn her trainers with a grippy sole. The grass was damp underfoot, and she could easily misplace her footing if she wasn’t careful.
How green everything was, Fran thought. After weeks of hot, dry weather, the parched land, after the storm, had absorbed nature’s nectar and magically bought back lush fields and blossoming hedgerows. Strolling through a meadow of wildflowers, she whipped out her phone to take a photo. Grinning into the lens, she took a selfie and then clicked several shots of weeping willow trees that dipped into the water.
A heron, as still as a statue, stood on the riverbank, and Fran stopped to eyeball the bird. Unfazed by her presence, the elegant creature stretched its long neck, scanning the water for prey. Deciding to take flight, the heron spread its wings, and Fran marvelled at the display of power and grace.
‘By heck,’ she breathed, ‘we don’t see many like you in Blackpool.’
She thought of the squawking gulls plaguing visitors who sat on deckchairs eating fish and chips. One unguarded move with a plastic fork and their fish supper was gone.
Fran plodded on.
The river, which had been tranquil and meandering on their last picnic, surged along in a raging torrent, and she could see where the force of the stormwater had carved into the earth. No longer the clear, sparkling stream, it was muddy and brown, carrying debris in the current.
‘I certainly won’t be paddling today,’ Fran said, wondering where Caro had got to as she watched water gush over rocks and boulders, creating whirlpools.
Her phone began to ring, and glancing at the screen, Fran smiled when she saw that Sid was calling. Looking for somewhere to perch, Fran chose a tree stump close to the water and made herself comfortable.
‘Hello, gorgeous!’ she said, ‘Oh, I’m so happy to hear your voice.’
* * *
Caroline, too, had chosen to walk by the river, deciding that she needed a few moments to collect her thoughts. To her surprise, the phone call had been from Leo.
‘Hello Mum,’ Leo had begun, ‘are you still in France?’
‘Yes, I return after the weekend.’
Initially hesitant, Leo told Caroline he’d spoken to his father and had the gist of the divorce. ‘He’s not given me all the details, but it sounds like he’s left you in quite a mess.’
Caroline listened, letting her son ramble on.
‘I realise now that Dad has been an absolute shit over the years, and I am sorry that I never stood up for you,’ Leo concluded.
As Caroline reached a bend, she stopped by a picturesque bridge.
What a day it was for revelations: first Fran with an apology and now Leo! She was touched that Leo had offered the sofa bed in his studio, should she need it, and he would take her out for lunch as soon as she got home.
Caroline wondered how she could fix things with Fran and decided that she should swallow her pride and make every effort as soon as she returned to the picnic. After all, a friendship with Fran might spark. A fluttery feeling in her stomach made Caroline shiver, and she wondered if it was the first ray of hope.
An old stone cottage with a clay-tiled roof nestled beside the bridge, and as she studied it, Caroline wondered who lived in the almost derelict building and if it had been flooded during the storm. Would she end up in such a property if her funds failed to stretch to something more suitable? Despite being run-down, having a home so close to nature would be a beautiful spot. During her walk she’d admired the weeping willows and wildflowers and had even seen a heron. She marvelled at the sight of the giant bird, its eyes keenly focused on the water’s surface, ever watchful for the slightest movement that might be his next meal.
Caroline felt far away from London, from the hustle and bustle of busy Kensington streets, where no one stopped to speak, their eyes glued to the screen of a mobile, ignoring human contact as they hurried to fill their lives with the day-to-day details of forgettable experiences.
But I mustn’t be so bitter, she thought. I’m so wrapped up in myself that I never stop to think about anyone or anything but me.
Stepping over a fallen branch, Caroline thought of Waltho.
The man was not only kind, he was solid and stable and his words had been comforting as he considered her problems. Caroline wondered if she was making a mountain out of a molehill. After all, she was fit and healthy, and, as Waltho had suggested, nothing could stop her from walking out of her life.
But why was she so scared?
Caroline would have some capital – not a lot, but something at least, and it was unlikely that Stanley would want much from the house. Waltho had suggested selling a few bits and pieces, which might make more money. She’d collected some good antiques over the years; she could pay off the business debts and let her old life go. What was the point of trying to adhere to a time when she’d been unhappy?
The next day was her birthday, and although Caroline wouldn’t acknowledge another year, she considered herself young enough to find a job. These days, with the state of the economy, she read in the papers that many sixty-somethings, through necessity, carried on working. Perhaps she could be helpful somewhere? It would depend on how much she’d need to make ends meet. Her state pension wouldn’t kick in for another four years, and her solicitor had told her not to expect much of a share from Stanley’s private pensions, most of which had been cashed in.
As Caroline continued walking, the fluttering feeling returned. Was she having an epiphany? This week had suddenly become an enlightening experience, and Waltho’s comments on her circumstances were beginning to change her views. Instead of being so angry with people, she knew she must take everyone at face value and treat them respectfully.
Especially Fran. Caroline had been perfectly horrible to the woman, and given that Fran had made the first move, she must make amends.
She thought about the time they had left at La Maison du Paradis. It had gone quickly, and tomorrow would be the last day. The programme of events had mentioned a meal in a local restaurant, and Caroline brightened. She wouldn’t tell anyone about her birthday, but she could at least raise a glass to herself. And, as Waltho recommended, making a decision would help her to feel more optimistic. La Maison du Paradis had worked its magic over the last few hours. How much lighter she felt!
Caroline stopped by the water’s edge to listen to birdsong and watch beams of sunlight cast patterns on the trees as they shone through a canopy of leaves. The sun caressed her face like a warm, soothing hand, and she closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath of the fresh, clean air, she filled her lungs and relaxed as she slowly exhaled.
The tension in her shoulders was lifting.
Suddenly, Caroline became aware of activity nearby. She opened her eyes to see a heron land on the opposite bank. But the river was fast flowing, and the creature began beating its grey-feathered wings, unable to wade gracefully through the shallows in search of prey. With up and down strokes, the heron glided effortlessly into the sky as if in slow motion. In awe, Caroline stepped back to marvel at the sight as the vast bird overshadowed her.
But suddenly, the damp surface beneath her feet gave way, and Caroline felt herself sliding down the bank.
‘Oh hell!’ she cried out as her sandal caught on bramble, the strap loosening as it released her foot. She grabbed handfuls of damp grass to try and stop her fall, but her body was sliding on the muddy earth.
Adrenaline surged as her heart raced, and panic took hold.
‘HELP!’ Caroline screamed as mud squished beneath her hands and feet, coating her clothing and skin. It was impossible to control her fall or stop her descent. As the rushing river filled her ears and she saw the churning water get closer, Caroline let out one long, desperate scream. ‘HELP! I CAN’T SWIM!’
* * *
Fran finished chatting with Sid and placed her phone in her pocket. Smiling with pleasure, she plodded on and thought about their conversation. He’d asked if Fran had learned enough to get their new venture off the ground. After considering his question, Fran replied that being in a creative atmosphere had given her the necessary enthusiasm. She’d never learn all she needed to know in a week but would take inspiration from some of the recipes she’d mastered and return home with a renewed eagerness to learn more. Fran had assured her husband that she would do her best to ensure that his dream came true, and together, they could begin planning for all the changes in the coming months.
Fran looked around. She couldn’t see Caroline and wondered if she’d returned to the picnic while Fran was chatting to Sid.
But suddenly, out of the blue, she thought she heard a cry.
Fran cocked her head to one side, wondering if it was an animal. But the sound seemed human, and the blood-curdling scream that followed made Fran realise it was a desperate cry for help.
‘Oh, my gawd!’ Fran shouted and looked around, but there was no one to turn to. Should she return and alert the others? If she did, it might be too late.
‘Damn, damn, damn!’ Fran muttered and, unaware that she’d dropped her phone, whipped off her visor and sunglasses and began to run.
Fran’s eyes searched the riverbank, and she hadn’t gone very far when she saw a jewelled white sandal peek out from a bramble. It was partially covered in mud, and to Fran’s horror, she recognised Caroline’s footwear.
‘CARO!’ Fran screamed out in desperation. ‘CARO! WHERE ARE YOU?’ Fran’s eyes scanned the muddy waters as the river roared alongside.
Where the hell was Caro? There was no sign of her clinging to the bank or struggling against the current. Fran’s feet were now immersed, and it was all she could do not to plunge in, but her lifeguard training told her to assess the danger while searching the surface.
‘Oh, shite!’ Fran suddenly said.
She could see a pale arm and a blonde head flailing about no more than ten metres ahead. ‘Here goes!’ Fran’s heart pounded as she calculated her next move and waded in without thinking further. ‘HANG ON CARO! I’M COMING!’
Time seemed to slow.
The coldness of the water enveloped Fran, and as the current dragged her along, she fought against it with every ounce of strength. In seconds, she was next to Caroline, and her lungs screamed for air as she reached out to grab the drowning woman.
‘GOTCHA!’ Fran shouted, pulling her close, entwining their bodies in a desperate embrace. Their eyes locked, and Fran saw the fear in Caroline’s eyes. Fran stood firm, grateful for the stony floor and thankful that her trainers didn’t slip. She had to get Caroline out of the water and fast!
‘M… My f… foot!’ Caroline’s voice was weak, and as Fran tugged, she realised that something was pinning Caroline to the riverbed.
‘I’ve got you, hang on!’
Fran closed her mouth and plunged under the water, her hands laddering down Caroline’s body until she found a foot. The remaining sandal was locked beneath a stone. Fran’s lungs felt like they were about to burst, and without letting go of Caroline, she resurfaced, took a huge breath and then plunged down again. Seconds later, she felt the leather give as she wrenched the sandal off. But the action abruptly released Caroline, and before Fran could steady her footing, the pair were tugged by the river’s relentless grip.
‘IT’S OKAY!’ Fran yelled as they were dragged downstream. She knew she had to hold tight and let the water take them. Battling hard to cradle Caroline’s head and stop her from drowning, Fran stretched her neck and felt the sinews scream. She would not give in! Battling on, inch by inch, with all her might, Fran rounded a bend in the river. With a brute force that Fran didn’t know she possessed, she eased them both to the bank’s edge, where a huge boulder lay ahead.
Seconds later, they crashed against it.
Gasping for breath, Fran found her footing and dragged Caroline to the side, where stones and rocks created a slimy, wet, welcoming surface. Caroline, lying prone, was shivering, her eyes filled with disbelief. Soaked and exhausted, Fran sat back against the rock, allowing herself a moment of relief.
‘We did it, Caro,’ Fran whispered, ‘we fought the battle and won.’
Caroline stared at her selfless rescuer, who had risked everything to save her. She was lightheaded as Fran’s face blurred before her. ‘Th— thank you,’ Caroline whispered as she lost consciousness. ‘Thank you, Fran.’