Page 52 of Worth Every Risk

On the bridge above, Gemma’s mouth is open, poised in an Edvard Munch style scream I can’t hear over the cheering crowd. But the applause quietens, like the red sea parting for Gemma’s shrill and panicked screeching.

The sound propels me to action. How much time did I lose glancing at Gemma? A second? Two?

Gemma’s hysterical cries continue to tear through the air, but I don’t give a shit about her. I tear off my jacket and dive in the water.

It’s cold; shockingly so. It spears my skin all over like a thousand tiny paper cuts. I thrash forward, not caring about anything but Lucie. My clothes are heavy and the water is deep. Nearing the middle of the river I can’t touch the bottom.

Lucie can’t swim without her armbands.

My pulse pounds in my ears. I’m nothing but water and heartbeat. There’s no space for thought. My body’s acting like it’s been pre-programmed to do exactly this.

I can’t even see Lucie’s pink dress beneath the water.Fuck.

I dive under, but I still can’t see anything. Not at first.

I can’t hold my breath long enough. I come back up, gasp for air and dive down again.

This time I see a flash of red. Or is it pink? I swim fast towards it. One stroke, two strokes. Then I touch something solid. Human. There’s a fumbling of limbs. A hand that feels too large to be Lucie’s.

Then my daughter’s body is pushed into my arms, tiny and limp, and I drag her up to the surface.

Someone surfaces behind me but I don’t stop to see who it is. I have no awareness of anyone or anything other than Lucie in my arms as I strive for the bank, hauling her up with me and lying her down on the mud.

She splutters almost immediately, coughing up water, and relief hits me like a drug. I sink to my knees beside her, coaxing her onto her side.

She lurches, gasping for breath, spluttering, coughing, and I sit with her, holding her. She’s breathing. She’s breathing…

She’s all right.

She’s bedraggled, her hair hanging in wet strands. Her little body begins to shake and I take her in my arms, clasping her tight to me.

“Daddy,” she chokes out before she bursts into tears.

I stand, Lucie in my arms, only now realising there’s someone beside me. Two people. Charlie and Aries. Both of them are drenched, and covered in mud. Aries looks like she’s about to cry, and Charlie’s blowing out breaths, his chest heaving, like swimming in the river was far more intense than the rowing hewas doing moments before. His top and shorts are clinging tight to his frame; he’s skinnier than I remember.

“Is she all right?” Aries says, one hand covering her mouth, fingers trembling.

Lucie sobs loudly against my shoulder.

“I told you to stay with her,” I grit out. I’m so fucking furious, I could explode. “I told you—”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was your one fucking job today.” My voice is barely controlled, breaking into pieces, and Aries winces at the expletive. Lucie clings tighter to me, and Charlie’s eyes widen.

“She was with her mum…” Aries says, but the excuse is wafer thin and her words crumble away.

I’m about to launch into a barrage of attacks about Gemma when the woman herself rushes towards us. We’re on the quiet side of the river, but people are streaming towards us as they cross the bridge.

“My baby,” Gemma wails, reaching for Lucie.

There’s a crowd of people directly behind her, so I can’t lambast the woman in front of everyone.Or can I?

As Gemma gets closer, I tighten my grip on Lucie. “What the fuck were you doing?” I keep my voice just low enough that only the group of us can hear.

Gemma stops, her arms falling to her sides. “It was an accident, Matthew.”

“That wasn’t an accident. That was neglect. Christ, Gemma. Can’t you keep your fucking eyes on your kids for more than five minutes? What were you doing up there? Fucking posing so everyone could see you being a ‘good mother’? Fuck’s sake.”

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