I glance at my watch. It’s almost eleven. The yacht sank at eleven.
It’s exactly the same.
‘Adam!’ I scream, running across the beach.
The yacht is leaving. Even before my eyes frantically seek out the Maria in black cursive script, I know that it is the same one.
I pelt into the frothy waves until they cover my thighs, my hips, my waist.
‘Adam!’ I shield my eyes against the sun and stare at the yacht. He’s there, just as I knew he would be. Leaning against the railings, his eyes locked onto mine.
‘Please,’ I turn towards the beach, ‘the yacht is going to sink. Somebody make it come back. Please.’ But nobody hears me. ‘Listen!’ I scream so loudly the skin of my throat throbs in protest. ‘Help!’ A girl wearing a navy polo shirt with the ‘WLY’ logo splashes towards me.
‘Are you all right?’
‘No,’ I cling to her. My knees threatening to give way. ‘The yacht is going to sink. My husband’s going to die. You have to call it back.’
‘Ma’am, have you been drinking?’
I shake my head. Squeezing her arm with my fingers.
‘Have you been out in the sun too—’
‘No.’ I’m a mass of tears. I’m going to lose him. I’m going to lose him all over again. ‘Adam.’ Grief pushes me forward. The sea splashes salt into my open mouth. Wets my tear-damp cheeks. I’m yanked upright by the back of my T-shirt like a marionette.
‘Ma’am?’
I shake her hands off me.
The yacht moves further away. My breath is coming in frightened gasps.
I can just make out Adam as he raises his arms to the sky. He links his thumbs together, forming wings with his hands. He mimes flying free.
‘No!’ I collapse. Feel arms around my waist pulling me from the sea, but Adam is the one who needs to be dragged from this nightmare groundhog day. I already know how it ends.
‘Adam! Adam!’ I fight for freedom. Wade back into deeper water. Hating myself for not being able to swim to him. Not being able to save him.
He doesn’t want to be saved.
He is still watching me. His hands still miming what he wants.
He wants me to set him free.
‘Something wrong with the yacht!’ someone behind me shouts.
This is it.
I watch in horror as the yacht begins to sink.
This is it.
I throw myself forwards, not caring that I might drown trying to reach him. Not wanting to live without him. Hands are on me once more, but not the girl’s.
Oliver’s.
He has brought me back and over my own choking sobs I hear it. The continuous beep.
Adam is flatlining.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Adam
For the second time there’s a blow to my skull. The taste of blood in my mouth. Colours bright and dull. Light and dark. A kaleidoscope of pain.
Water, in my mouth and eyes.
Water, in my nose and ears.
My arms and legs flail. I’m sinking deeper and deeper. Dizzy. Disorientated. My lungs burn, chest feels tight.
The water turns from blue to grey to almost black. I’m spinning. Twisting in the sea. Everything feeling like it’s about to explode. My skull. My rib cage. Body burning.
Anna.
It is the thought of her that prevents me fighting for air. Stops my legs kicking their way to the surface.
I’m sinking. Heavy. A mass of pain and fear but not regret. Not this time.
If you love someone, set them free.
I’m heavy and weightless and here but not.
Anna.
Drifting. Drifting. My arms and legs are splayed.
A feeling of calm washes over me.
Anna begins to fade away.
And then I feel nothing at all.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Anna
We are yanked out of the scanner with force. Sofia pulls me from the table so Oliver can reach Adam. Blood is streaming down my face. My head is splitting, the continuous screech of the machine screaming what I already know.
Adam has gone.
Anxiety grips me tightly. I watch Oliver shake Adam by the shoulders. ‘Adam, Adam, can you hear me?’ But of course Adam doesn’t answer.
He can’t.
Oliver is going through the motions like he’s performed this a hundred times but the pallor of his face, his hesitation, tells me he hasn’t. Oliver gives a cursory check of Adam’s airway while Luis cuts open Adam’s T-shirt and begins chest compressions. Sofia runs to the trolley and picks up two paddles that look like irons and passes them to Luis.
‘Clear.’ He places them on Adam’s chest.
Adam’s body jerks.
‘Still in VF,’ shouts Sofia.
Oliver continues with chest compressions.
Adam’s eyes locked onto mine. His thumbs linking together, forming wings with his hands.
The machine continues its beep. Oliver and Sofia exchange a worried look.
‘Please.’ But I am not sure what I’m pleading for. For them to save the man I love, or let him go.
‘Clear,’ Luis shouts for the second time. Again, Adam’s body jerking.
‘Still in VF,’ Sofia says.
The bird he had rescued soaring high into the sky. ‘He’s happy now,’ Adam had said. ‘He’s free.’
Oliver places his hands back on Adam’s chest.
‘Let him go.’ My words are thick, my tongue too big for my mouth. My lips unwilling to move. But still I try again. ‘Oliver.’
Adam’s wishes are ever-present. Impossible to ignore. They whisper and roar like an orchestra, building to a crescendo, which forces me to acknowledge the cutting truth.
I have lost him.
Oliver meets my eye.
‘Stop,’ I say. ‘It’s time.’ Oliver’s face crumples in pain but he holds out a hand to Luis. ‘Wait.’
In three strides Oliver takes my hands. For a second I think he’s going to tell me he has to treat Adam. Has to bring him back even if there’s nothing to bring him back for other than a hospital bed and an inability to communicate. Is any life better than no life? Instead, he asks, ‘Are you sure, Anna?’
In truth, I’m not sure, but I know this is what Adam wants. What he was showing me as he stepped onto that yacht for a second time, knowing how it would all end.
Pain sinks its fangs sharply into my heart.
‘Yes,’ I say quietly.
The beeping stops. Machines are quickly pushed aside. Luis fetches a sheet and pulls it over Adam’s chest while Oliver checks his watch and scrawls on Adam’s notes and then the room empties.
Slowly, hesitantly, I approach the table.
‘Adam?’ I know he will not answer. He is not here. My only hope is that he is running free with Harry and Dug. That they will look after him. That he will look after them.
I touch his cheek. It’s losing its warmth.
I’ve heard it said that once you’ve passed, it looks like you are sleeping.
It doesn’t.
In sleep, Adam was always moving, fidgeting. Slinging his arm over his head, sticking his leg out from under the duvet.
Breathing.
Now, there is nothing.
My boy from the bar is no more.
Part Five
‘If you love someone, set them free.’