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Without giving herself a chance to change her mind, she dropped her backpack into the boat that was moored on the other side of the dock.
Her fingers fumbled and slipped on the knot as she tried to untie it, as if her body was trying to stop her doing something that was undeniably foolish.
Was she seriously going to climb into this boat and try to row herself to the island?
Yes, she was. She wasn’t going to leave Izzy by herself, when she was desperate and upset. And yes, she knew she was probably going to be yelled at. Izzy would probably accuse her of all kinds of things and she wouldn’t be able to beat a hasty retreat because there would be water between herself and freedom, but she was doing it anyway.
She stepped gingerly into the boat, felt it wobble and plopped down hard on the seat.
“Ooh—” She clutched the sides. Breathe, breathe. These things were designed to float. Why would it sink? If it was going to sink, it would have sunk already when it was tied to the dock.
Gingerly, confining herself to small movements, she retrieved the paddle from the floor and gripped it tightly. Eyes straight ahead. Don’t look down. Don’t wonder how deep it is.
The island wasn’t that far. All she had to do was row steadily and not make any big movements.
She pushed the boat away from the dock and wasted several minutes moving aimlessly in no particular direction while she figured out how to paddle and steer. Finally she was away, making slow progress. It was unsettling how close she was to the water. If she’d been given the choice of vessel she would have picked a cruise ship, or at least a large yacht.
The farther she traveled from the dock, the more vulnerable she felt. She glanced down and then wished she hadn’t as panic gripped her by the throat. The water below her was deep and dark. She tried not to think about her mother, and how she’d been in deep water when she’d drowned. Too far out of her depth to save herself.
The sky had darkened and a few spots of rain hit her shoulders. Clare had warned her that the weather was changeable and she’d been here long enough to have witnessed it herself, but she wished it hadn’t chosen this moment to change from sunshine to storm.
The surface of the lake grew rougher and the water slapped hard against the sides of the boat, testing her nerve.
If she was still alive at the end of this, she was going to kill Jack.
“It’s fine, it’s all fine, it’s going to be fine.” She talked to herself, soothed herself, kept her eyes fixed on the island.
It didn’t seem to be getting any closer, but she hoped that was her imagination.
She kept paddling, wondering if she was doing something wrong. Was she going backward? No, the boathouse was far behind her now, which gave her hope but also a sense of panic. There was no turning back. No changing her mind and now she knew she couldn’t, she badly wanted to. What was she doing? She couldn’t swim, had never rowed a boat and Izzy didn’t even like her.
A larger wave hit the side of the canoe and showered Flora with water.
She gave a yelp, froze and almost dropped the paddle in her panic, but realized instinctively how dire it would be to lose her means of rowing so she gripped it tightly. If she survived this, she was going to learn how to swim. She’d been rowing for so long her arms felt like lead. She’d had no idea it would be this far. The wind whipped up and the lake went from being glass smooth to bouncing waves.
Why had she thought this was a good idea?
Even though she was fairly sure Izzy would be glad to see the end of her, drowning was taking people-pleasing to a whole new level.
She kept paddling, motivated by the fact that the island seemed much closer. She peered into the trees, looking for Izzy, but there were no signs of life.
What if she’d made a mistake? What if the flash of blue hadn’t been Izzy? There was no way Flora would have the energy to paddle back to the shore. She’d be stuck on the island by herself.
It was so close now she could see the pebbles on the shore. Just a few more strokes of the paddle and she’d be there. She felt a lift of her spirits and then the waves smacked hard against the side, soaking her and rocking the boat violently.
She gave a scream and clutched the sides, dropping the paddle in the process. She made a grab for it but doing so unbalanced the boat and it capsized, plunging her headfirst into the lake.
First came the cold, then the shock. Sound was muffled. Water filled her ears. She thought this is it. I’m going to drown.
She swallowed a mouthful of water, thrashed and flailed and then she felt hands grab her and pull her to the surface. She gasped in air, thrashed around a bit more.
“Put your feet down!” Izzy’s voice penetrated her water-clogged ears and Flora felt relief punctuate panic. Izzy was alive! She was fine. Flora had found her. She didn’t even care that Izzy was yelling at her.
“Holy crap, Flora! Stand up!” Izzy half dragged her onto the stony beach, away from the snapping water and lay down panting next to Flora.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Flora stared up at the sky checking that she really was still alive and then Izzy’s face appeared above her, contorted with anger, and she knew she was still in her usual world.
