Page 33

1 November 2019

Vicky still thinks Niamh is going to come back and help.

You could have had anybody. That’s what Niamh said before she hit Vicky. You were my friend.

When Vicky stumbled away, she’d no idea where she was going. Her head hurt so bad, she just kept moving. She barely realised Niamh had hit her. But whatever had been in Niamh’s hand, it had done something bad. Something very bad.

And then she heard the ice crack.

She called out to Niamh, but then she was underwater.

As the snow starts to fall and Vicky’s hands slip on the ice, she can see Niamh.

Her friend is standing a few metres away, watching Vicky. She looks down at her feet and Vicky knows she’s trying to decide if the ice is thick enough to slide across on her belly and offer Vicky her hand. Please try, Vicky thinks. I’d try. I’d help you. I didn’t mean it. I should have told you I knew Harry loved me. But I didn’t even want him. I did everything to show him I wasn’t interested. I only stayed here to get enough money from that asshole Lassi so I could move on. I would never have hurt you. That’s not me.

She thinks all this, but she can’t say it.

As she watches, Niamh starts to walk away. She pauses only for a moment, to lean down and pick up something from the snow.

Its diamonds glint in the light. Vicky’s bracelet. The one Alex bought for her. Alex. Her big brother. She misses Alex. She loves him, always has. She wishes she’d never let him down. That she could have lived up to what he saw in her. She wishes she could tell him that.

Vicky is too shocked, too cold, to call out for more help.

If Niamh leaves her here, she’ll die.

Niamh keeps walking. She doesn’t look back.

Vicky’s head fills with thoughts of Alex and her mum and dad. The people she might never see again.

She still doesn’t really think this is it.

She will be saved. Somebody will come. She’s too young to die.

When she slides beneath the water, her eyes are still open.

The cold is doing funny things to her head.

It’s peaceful down here. She can’t feel the pain any more.

The light grows duller and duller.

Vicky is tired. She might sleep. When she wakes, she’ll be out on the ice again. She’ll be skiing or skating or riding her snowmobile.

She won’t be alone.

Even now, she thinks she can see someone coming to help her.

Like her, the woman is floating, hair swirling around her face, arms outstretched, reaching up for the surface.

Vicky holds her hand out to her, before her eyes close.