Patricia stepped outside into the blast of chill night air. She found she was gulping it in like a drowning man who has just made his way to the surface. She felt giddy, elated even, to be outside.
Keeping close to the wall, she made her way across the yard back towards the lane. She felt the heat of the fire before she saw it. Turning the corner she could see the blaze was in the orchard. Banners of orange flames were furling against the night sky. Suddenly Edward and his mother appeared struggling with a hose. Patricia threw herself back into the shadows. She realised it would be too risky to head straight for the lane that led down to the road. She would have to cut through the fields behind the orchard and get back to the road that way. Keeping her head low, she darted towards the milking parlour and using it for cover made her way towards the field. It was much harder to see anything now but she knew that if she kept the glow of the flames to her right then she was heading in the correct direction. She seemed to be on some sort of narrow path and decided to follow it rather than risk cutting directly across the wet grass of the field. Putting one foot in front of the other, she kept trying to find the firmer ground. Already she felt a little breathless and tired, as the adrenaline wore off, and the reality of making her way through the rough unchartered territory began to take its toll on her. The path seemed to be taking her slightly downhill and all she could see of the fire were tiny sparks bobbing high above her.
The path became muddier. Cold water seeped into her shoes. She didn’t care. The only option was to keep going. The sharp grass whipped painfully at her bare legs, but the road couldn’t be that much further. She stopped to try and get her bearings. The glow from the orchard was still to her right but seemed further away than she thought it should be. If only a car would drive by so she could see some headlights and make her way towards them. When she started to walk again she was surprised by the way she had sunk into the mud. It took some effort to pull her feet out and she nearly lost one of her shoes. It didn’t help that the cold air had found its way beneath her coat and her body had begun to shiver violently. Her feet were numb.
She smelled it first. The tang of salt mixed with something much darker, almost rotten. It reminded her of something and then it struck her; the marsh that they had driven over. She realised that she was no longer wading through a muddy field. The path must have led her down to the sea. She could hear the lapping of water. She turned to try and go back the way she had come but her left foot suddenly plunged her up to her thigh in the cold muddy sand. She gasped and fell backwards. When she righted herself she wasn’t sure which direction she had been facing in. A fluttering panic took hold of her and she began to whimper. Reaching forward she found a clump of reeds to hold on to. Pulling herself with whatever strength she still possessed, she managed to free her left foot which was now shoeless. She held on to the grass and tried to catch her breath. Looking around, she could just make out some shadowy shapes in the distance but nothing that looked familiar or could help her decide in what direction she should be heading. Summoning all her energy she stood up and took a couple of unsteady steps away from the sound of the sea, but then with a horrible jolt she found herself submerged up to her waist in the icy cold mud. She let out an involuntary scream. Immediately she worried that someone might have heard her but then realised that was what she needed to happen. She stretched her arms as far as she could but could feel no grass or reeds to get hold of. The cold circle of mud around her body seemed to be creeping higher. She twisted to her left and then the right, but there was nothing but a blanket of blackness surrounding her.
She called out: ‘Help!’ Even to her own ears it sounded feeble. ‘Help me!’ She tried to call louder but it was hopeless. Her violent shivering meant it was almost impossible for her to catch a breath. She could no longer feel her legs. Her flailing hands seemed to be finding more and more water. The tide must be coming in, she thought, and a crescendo of panic was followed by a deep sense of calm. This was to be her end. She let her body go limp and sink a little further. She remembered the story of the man coming home from the pub. They had found his bike. There would be no trace of her. A great tiredness settled upon her and she wondered if she might just fall asleep and never wake up. Warm, why did she feel so warm? She struggled with the buttons at the collar of her coat like a drunk trying to get undressed. The water was lapping around her armpits now. She couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed. The darkness was everywhere.
At first she thought it was a noise in her head. A low growl. Maybe it was the wind. A car? A boat? But then long beams of light were thrust out across the water and Patricia stared at the hollow grey runway of illuminated waves. She half-expected to see something emerge from the surf. Then the beams of light shifted slightly towards her. They were wider and the engine sound was much louder. Finally, the beams hit her full in the face. She closed her eyes and did her best to wave her arms above her head. She tried to yell but couldn’t.