I heard Dana's voice calling 'Tora', saw a movement at the steps, more hands on the rails. Odel was climbing up by herself. She looked weak, barely able to focus, and I guessed Dana was pushing her up. I reached out for her hand as she staggered up, over the steps and into the cockpit. She gasped at the cold and almost fell against me.
Somehow I managed to stand up and stumble to the steps. I reached out and took hold of Dana's arm. She came up surprisingly easily and I helped her climb over the last step. As the wind hit her she started shivering violently. Below, I could see the cabin floor was underwater and it was rising fast. Gair had said we would have ten minutes once water started to flood the boat.
Dana's eyes met mine. 'Life jackets,' I gasped, looking at Freya and Odel. Dana – sensible, practical Dana – was already wearing hers. She nodded and passed one to me. I managed to pull it over my head and fasten the metal buckle. Dana helped me pull jackets over the other two and then I inflated all of them and switched on the small lights that would give anyone searching for us just the ghost of a chance.
Water was breaking over the stern now and all four of us were sitting in an icy pool. Spray was soaking us, filling the cockpit every few seconds, hastening our descent. There was no time for the life raft, even if I could find it. I grabbed four harnesses and clipped our life jackets together at the waist. Sink or swim, we were doing it together.
'Can you stand up?' I yelled at Dana.
'I think so,' she managed, and together we struggled to our feet. Odel was able to stand with us and between us we supported Freya. Her eyes were darkening – she was sinking again. I climbed on to the seat and then the side deck. Dana followed, then Odel, and we dragged up Freya. Stumbling, grasping at anything that looked firm, we made our way to the stern of the rocking boat until we were all standing, looking down at the motionless propeller. I unclipped the rail and held tight to one of the stanchions.
'We have to jump,' I shouted, wrapping my other arm tightly around Freya's waist and looking at Dana and Odel to make sure they understood. 'I'll give the signal.'
Dana nodded. Odel was struggling to keep her eyes open but Dana wrapped one arm tightly round her and grasped a stanchion with the other.
I lowered myself on to the top step. We'd left Tronal far behind and there was no land close enough for swimming to be an option. Waves were now washing over my feet. I turned back, almost lost my balance and nodded to Dana.
'After three,' she gasped. 'One, two, three, go!'
We leaped through the air and hit the silky smooth welcome of the ocean. Stars sparkled all around us as we sank lower and the blackness below reached up its arms and carried us down. I felt no cold, no pain, no fear, had no sense of the women around me, although I knew they were there.
I was filled with a sense of peace, of finality; it wasn't so bad after all, this dying business, just sinking into silent, velvet-soft darkness.
But the will to live is wonderfully tenacious and I felt my legs moving, making swimming motions. Then the ancient laws of physics kicked in and the air in our jackets began to rise upwards, taking us with it. The surface broke around our faces like shattering glass and the salty night air leaped into my lungs. I reached out for Dana, found her hand and thought I saw the glint of her eyes as they met mine. Odel and Freya were just dark shapes in the water.
I could hear an engine again and knew that someone was close. I tried to summon up fury that we'd been through so much, only to be picked up by the second Tronal boat, but couldn't do it. I didn't care.
The sound of the engine grew loud, almost deafening, but I had no sense of where it was coming from. I looked across at Dana and thought I saw her gazing upwards, a second before we were bathed in light.
When I opened my eyes again, I started screaming.
41
I WAS IN A SMALL, CREAM-PAINTED ROOM, WITH FLOWER-PRINTS on the walls and a door opening on to a private bathroom. I was back on Tronal, chained to a narrow hospital bed. My screams echoed through the building.
The door to the corridor slammed open and a nurse ran in, followed by an orderly and then a young doctor. They clustered round my bed, making soothing noises, trying to settle me back down again. I'd been sitting up. I looked down at my wrists. No shackles encircled them. I tried to move my legs. One of them moved easily, the other was too stiffly wrapped in bandages. No sign of chains. There was another bed in the room, but I couldn't see who was in it; the nurse was standing in the way.
The doctor was holding my arm, a syringe in his hand. I tugged free and hit him. He swore and dropped the syringe.
'No drugs. Don't you dare drug me!' I yelled.
'Sounds like she means it,' said a voice I knew. We all turned.
Kenn Gifford stood in the doorway. The others stepped back, away from the bed, unsure what to do next.
'Where am I?' I said.
'The Balfour,' replied Kenn. 'On Orkney. DCI Rowley and I thought you might all prefer to be off Shetland for a while.'
'Duncan,' I gasped, ready to start screaming again.
Kenn gestured across the room, a small smile on his face. The nurse had moved and I could see the man in the bed next to my own. Ignoring the pain, I pushed my legs over the side of the bed until I was standing.
Kenn put an arm round my waist and half steered, half carried me to Duncan's bed. My husband's eyes were open but dull. I didn't think he could see me too well. I reached out to stroke the side of his face. His entire head was bandaged. I didn't take my eyes off him as Kenn and the nurse settled me back down on my own bed.
'He took a nasty blow to the head,' said Kenn. 'We did a CT scan when you all came in this morning. The middle meningeal artery had been ruptured, causing an epidural haematoma.'
I watched as Duncan's eyes slowly closed. He'd suffered a fairly common form of head injury. The middle meningeal artery runs just above the temple on either side of the head; the skull is thin at this point, making the artery vulnerable to injury. An epidural haematoma, or build-up of blood between the skull and the brain, can compress the delicate brain tissue and, if not treated, lead to brain damage, even death.
'Will he be OK?' I asked.
'We think so. The blood had time to clot so he needed a craniotomy, but it was all fairly straightforward. They'll keep him sedated for another twelve hours or so.'
The younger doctor had picked up the syringe and was hovering.
'Don't even think about it,' I spat at him.
He and Kenn exchanged a look. Then he left the room. The nurse and the orderly followed and the door closed behind them.
Kenn sat down on the bed.
'Dana and the others? They're here?'
He nodded. 'Dana discharged herself a couple of hours ago. Alison and Collette are still here. Both doing fine.'
For a second I wasn't with him. Then I had it. Freya and Odeclass="underline" of course, those hadn't been their real names.
'Alison and Collette,' I repeated. 'Tell me about them.'
'You need to rest.'
'No, tell me who they are,' I said, trying to push myself up and not managing it. Duncan's eyes were still closed but the steady rise and fall of his chest was reassuring.
Kenn got up and propped up the bed.
'Collette McNeil is thirty-three,' he said, sitting down again. 'She's married with two young children and lives just outside Sumburgh. Every morning she takes the kids to school and then walks the family dog along the cliff top, over on the west coast. A month ago she was doing exactly that when she was approached by some men. Next thing she can remember is waking up on Tronal. The dog found its way home and raised the alarm. Everyone assumed she fell over the cliff.'