His responsibilities over, Clive was kneeling on the bank helping Brian to get out of his boat. The swelling on the boy’s ankle had reached the point where he could barely stand. The others were in the eddy or already beaching. A watery sun was brightening the patches of mist. Bringing up the rear, Adam was turning into the slack water right beside the big rock. With almost cartoon merriment he was whistling the hamster song. It was the biggest smile he had smiled all week. He banged his paddle on the water so that it spun up in the air over his head, caught it and held it there, using only his hips to control the turn and deceleration as the kayak crossed the eddy — line. Someone applauded. Epic! he laughed.
Hey! Micky! Micky! Apart fromVince, only Max had seen. What are you doing? This is the get — out. It’s here! Micky! Come back!
Everyone looked. The girl was still well within striking distance. She could still regain the slack water. And in fact she had swung her boat round to face them now, about ten yards down, but drifting rather than paddling. For Christ’s sake, Clive called, get to the bank! Sitting erect, the girl lifted her paddle and tossed it away into the stream.
Vince has never thought of himself as courageous. He is not a man of action. But with no caution now, he veered away from the eddy and set off straight for the girl’s boat. A clamour of voices rose behind him. Vince had no idea what warnings were being shouted. He knew what was waiting if he crossed the water’s horizon line, shimmering in the mist up ahead. But it seemed to him that since she had no paddle he must catch up with the girl before the drop, he would drag her to the side, somehow. Reach forward, was all the voice in his head was shouting. Reach forward! The kayak surged.
Using her hands in the cold water, Michela was keeping her boat turned upstream towards the others. Now she raised her arms, pulled off her helmet and dropped it in the water. She shook the water from her short hair. Vince was almost there. The girl’s drifting kayak began to spin. Grab the sling, he shouted. He released the thing from round his waist. Clip it on! He would tow her. But the girl had put her arms straight down by her sides. Her eyes are closed, Vince saw. It was the concentration of the diver on the high board. She leaned her head away from the approaching rescuer and capsized.
They were only a few yards away from the rapid now. The boom of the rushing water had drowned out any cries behind. Yet to the very brink the river was flat and calm, sliding mud — brown under a bright strip of surface mist. Two ducks flapped up as the red boat tipped over. They raced for the trees. Vince leaned to grab at the upturned hull. There was nothing to hold. He rocked it. She hadn’t pulled out. Now the stream was accelerating. There is no time. Leaning on the hull, he reached right under the water, found an arm and tugged. She wasn’t helping. Her hands were stiffly at her sides.
Quick! He pushed the boat away. For a few moments he back — paddled furiously, but only to get his bearings. He knew he was beyond the point of no return. The capsized hull went over. Turning his head a split second before taking the plunge Vince saw another paddler approaching rapidly. It would be Clive. Then he was on the brink looking down into a chaos of spray and stone. There was no time to choose a line. Relax, a voice sang in his brain. Don’t fight the water.
He fought. What else can you do? For two or three seconds he held his own. He had come over at a good spot. He planted the paddle way out to the left to drag the kayak away from a rock, tried to force it into an eddy as the water crashed between two boulders, failed, then leaned right out again to brace as the boat was dragged down in a deep hole of foam. Suddenly upside down, he rolled up at once. He was careering backwards now. The sight of the flood of water rushing towards him shook what confidence he might still have had. He thrashed the paddle. He was over again. A rock slammed against his helmet.
It was all frenzy now. His knuckles and wrists are scraping on the bottom. A desperate swinging of arms and hips unexpectedly tossed him upright. The boat was thrown against a wall and he was down again, pinned, head under water, the river piling onto his deck. I’ve lost it. Blindly, his fingers felt for the tab. Mustn’t panic. The spraydeck popped but the sheer pressure of the water had him trapped in the boat. He panicked. Yaaaah! Vince screamed away his last breath and every last ounce of energy to force himself out of the boat. Air. I need air. In the flood his knee took a tremendous knock. Boulders and branches rushed by. There was the log they’d seen. He was falling, then abruptly trapped against another rock, arms and legs outspread, stomach crushed on stone. But he had his head above the water. He could think. He found a hand hold. Clinging and slithering and fighting, he pulled himself up onto the round, rugged top of a boulder.
Vince was in the very midst of the torrent. Had anything been broken? Chunks of flesh were gone from his knuckles. Every muscle was trembling. I’m alive, I’m alive. His wetsuit was in shreds at the knee, the leg completely numb. His teeth chattered. His boat was gone. There’s something wrong with my neck. Can I move it. Yes, yes. Just stiff. Then Clive appeared. His yellow kayak shot down the rush from above. The man’s big torso and hands were moving rapidly, the shoulders swaying, the paddle flashing left to right, back and forth. But it was perfectly deliberate, even graceful. Vince saw the bearded face beneath the helmet. Clive! he shouted. Clive! Their eyes met. But there was no acknowledgement from the canoeist. The face was in a trance of concentration and as he slewed the boat around the rock Vince was on, leaning hard on his paddle, Vince saw that a sort of grim smile was playing on Clive’s lips. He plunged down the rush and was gone. Only then did Vince remember the girl. Clive was going after Michela. She must be dead, he thought.
Vince crouched on all fours. It didn’t seem safe to sit. He would have to put his legs in the water. He was afraid it would snatch him away. He was afraid if he stood he might faint and fall. I must wait for the others. How cold it was! He felt sick. How long would they be? I might pass out. They would have to throw him a rope. How will I hold it? Try to stop your body shaking, he ordered himself. Relax. Breathe. Breathe deeply.
The water thundered above and below. Even the foam was brown with mud. What is taking them so long! Then Vince realised that he was happy. He was euphoric. Something has shifted. He smiled. He couldn’t worry about the Italian girl. In a strange flood of emotion, he felt grateful to her. He was weeping. Grateful to his wife too. Gloria gave you this, he whispered. She died and I took her place on this trip.
Still crouching, shaking, he looked at his hands. They were bluish — white. The cold had stopped the bleeding. All the skin on the knuckles of the left hand was gone. He could see a bone. It was uncanny. Vince took hold of the ring on his fourth finger. It hardly pained him now to pull it off. The pale gold lay on the dead white palm and in a gesture he couldn’t understand, he let it fall into the fast brown water.
Oy! Vince! Wake up. Hey, Vince! It turned out they had been shouting at him for ages. Adam was in the brushwood on the bank, about ten feet above the water. Max was beside him. They had secured a line to a tree and were tying themselves to it in case someone should get pulled in. At the third attempt they managed to land a throw — bag directly in Vince’s hands. But his fingers wouldn’t move. He couldn’t tie it. Yelling over the sound of the water, Adam repeated his instructions. Pass an arm through a loop. Now, hold on tight and jump. Vince hesitated. Wrists and knees and feet and neck were all so stiff and numb. Trust me, Adam shouted. Vince looked across at the man. Trust me, do it.
Vince jumped. His head plunged into the dark water, but already strong arms were dragging him across. His face came up. He felt a surge of energy and when his feet banged into the rocks at the edge he was able to use the rope to climb out and up. Michela? he asked. He went down on his knees. Adam was looking at him curiously. I called the ambulance, he said. On the mobile. Max was opening a space blanket. He draped it over the kneeling figure. Wrap it round you. Come on. And he laughed. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to use this. I thought I’d never get my money’s worth.