‘What are you going to do, then?’ he said, almost jeering. ‘Call the cops?’

I pursed my lips in anger. He knew that wasn’t even a possibility, the fucker. ‘No, but I need that tape before you do something we all regret.’

‘I won’t regret it,’ he said, still edging away from me.

‘You will,’ I said. ‘The way you’re acting…it’s bordering on suicidal.’

‘Maybe I am,’ he said. He looked thoughtful suddenly.

I drew back, wondering what he was planning to do. I still couldn’t tell what he had in his hand – was it the package? The knife? His phone? I wasn’t getting close enough to find out.

‘Maybe I am suicidal,’ he said again and, before I even realised what he was planning to do, he jumped over the rails of the bridge and into the river below.

    Nineteen

Hm

I hesitated only for a moment. Alex was injured, Felicity was still in danger of being – quite literally – exposed, and if I let Rick go now, I might never get the tape back. I didn’t have a choice – I had to follow him.

I didn’t even stop to take off my jacket. I clambered over the railings, took a deep breath, and dived into the murky waters below.

The drop was astounding. I hadn’t realised it was so far down. It had to be a good twenty metres, if not more. As I hit the water, the force of it, coupled with its cold bite, took my breath away. For a moment, I just hung there in the freezing wet blackness, my lungs compressed and my eyes unseeing. I knew I had to act. I could freeze to death in these temperatures, if I didn’t drown first. I forced my way frantically to the surface, kicking with my legs and pulling off my jacket as I did so.

When I finally broke through the slapping waves, I paused again, gasping for air and looking around me. Everything was quiet and dark, but for the moonlight playing silvery across the water. It was a pallid light, and it gave the silent river an ethereal feel, but was enough for me to catch sight of him, under the bridge. The current was driving him into one of the pillars, and he was trying to push himself away, back into the swim.

As I neared him, he succeeded and was swept away downriver. I kicked as hard as I could and followed him, narrowly avoiding plunging straight at the same pillar he’d hit. As I rushed past it, I pushed against it with my hand, trying to force myself out into the same wash that had carried him away. It was so dark under the bridge; I could barely make him out as the river swept him further and further from me.

It was a matter of seconds before I was past the pillars on the other side of the bridge and out in the open river. I must have finally hit the same current as him because, with a sudden rush, I picked up speed, and started to gain on him. I was struggling to stay afloat, my clothes making swimming almost impossible and threatening to drag me down with every stroke I took.

It looked as if Rick was having the same kind of struggle. In the brief glimpses I caught of him, I could see him holding up one hand, as if trying to grab at an unseen rescuer.

What the fuck had I been thinking of, going after him like this? We were both going to end up dead at this rate, drowned in the filth of the Thames. A fitting end for the Filth Monger, I thought, laughing almost hysterically, as the waves chopped at my face and mouthfuls of water forced themselves down my throat.

It was going to be the end of one of us, it seemed. As I struggled to get closer to the shore, I became dimly aware of a platform – some sort of jetty, probably for the river taxis – coming closer to me. With the last of my strength, I pushed with my legs and, reaching out with my arms, got alongside it. I reached up to grab hold of the side, but it was too high, and my hands slithered down the sides, barnacles scratching at my wrists and palms.

I tried once more, this time managing to snag hold of a rope. I pulled myself up, until my shoulders were almost out of the water, my legs still being dragged forward by the pull of the river.

But I was safe, I knew. Safer than Rick, at least. As I looked out across the moonlit water at him, his hand – still stretching upwards for some sort of salvation – sank beneath the surface and didn’t reappear.

I carried on watching for a minute or two, but there was no further movement, and my heart sank. Despite everything, I wished it hadn’t had to end like this. I turned to the jetty and started to haul myself around it to a place where I could get a purchase to climb on board. It was flat and empty – tethered, but still drifting slightly with the current. I put my hands up again. They were practically numb, which made gripping the rope both painful and difficult, and I was starting to yawn. I knew I had to get out, or risk hypothermia setting in.

Finally, I managed to heave my exhausted, waterlogged body up out of the river. I sat there for a few minutes, getting my breath back and staring out across the river in the direction I’d last seen Rick. I wondered how Sandy would feel when it became apparent he was never coming home. Would she forgive him? Would she remember him fondly? Would she tell his girls how great their daddy was? I doubted it, and in some fucked-up way I felt responsible. I’d sort something out, make their life easier than it otherwise would be.

But for now, I needed to get ashore and get myself sorted. Hopefully, the tape had ceased to be a problem, and I could allow my mind to think of other things for the first time in days. I had to find out where Alex was, and how he was doing. I also – and I felt almost guilty thinking of something that gave me so much pleasure, straight after watching Rick drown, cold and alone – had to get back to Grace.

And that was when it hit me. I’d gone into the water fully clothed. My phone had been in my pocket. I couldn’t contact her.

    Twenty

Her

I checked my phone again when I got up. Still nothing. I’d been checking it all night, on and off, from when I got back from Liv’s gig until I finally fell asleep, but my text had gone unanswered. Even though I’d already realised he wasn’t interested in me in the way I’d hoped, it still left me feeling lost and dejected.

It hadn’t helped that Leo had rung me almost as soon as I got in. I’d been worried about returning home alone, as it was, after the debacle the night before. I’d half-expected to find him hiding behind the sofa, ready to launch himself at me as I walked through the door.

When the phone had rung, I’d physically jumped and, when I’d seen the name on the caller display, my heart had started to race. I wasn’t sure whether to just answer it and deal with whatever shit he was going to throw at me, or leave it and risk incurring his increased wrath.

In the end, I decided to answer.

‘Hello,’ I said, trying to keep my voice calm and level.

‘Grace?’ He sounded almost as nervous as me. ‘Oh, thank God.’

‘What?’ I said. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’ He gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I…just didn’t think you’d pick up.’

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say.

‘Listen, Grace,’ he said. It was hard to make out what he was saying. He was obviously out somewhere. There was the sound of traffic in the background. ‘I’m so sorry about last night. Really.’

I still didn’t know what to say. ‘Oh, look, Leo…’

‘No, wait, listen.’ His tone was urgent. ‘It was bang out of order. It was. I...’

‘Look, Leo, it doesn’t mat…’

‘It does, Grace,’ he said, cutting across me and speaking quickly. ‘I know I was in the wrong. It’s up to you what you do. I deserve it. I deserve all of it.’

‘I…’ I felt so awkward. I’d never imagined feeling like this with Leo. Awkward – and torn. Half of me wanted to tell him to come over, so we could sort it out. The other half kept remembering last night, and the other times he’d come home drunk and handy with his fists.