Firebird
Page 41
The carriage lurched sickeningly to one side. Georgina screamed. The carriage overturned and slid with almost indecent haste towards the swollen river. The last thing Philip heard was his wife’s terrified voice as the cold waters of the Tawe closed over his head.
Llinos gasped as the water overwhelmed her but she had the sense to catch a thick spar of wood and cling to it. The shed had disintegrated and the water dragged at her, threatening to swamp her, but she held on to the spar, shaking water out of her eyes and mouth.
The river seemed to rise in tumult around her, huge, dark waves engulfed her time and time again until she felt her strength drain away.
And then, abruptly, the water receded, sucked back from the shore as though by a giant hand. Llinos tried to see through the darkness, there was a gaping hole in the bank to her left and as she watched, the river flowed through it towards the land where the potteries stood.
She could hear cries coming from Pottery Row. She saw the flicker of storm lanterns as if they were small pinpricks in the darkness.
Llinos was lifted on a wave and dashed back into the trough again, the coldness of the water stealing her breath. And then, slowly, the waters became calmer. Llinos took a deep ragged breath and began to swim towards the bank, still clinging to the spar.
Her arms were stiff, her wrists sore from the bite of the rope. She was half drowned but she was alive.
She felt something drag at her legs and screamed as a body appeared beside her on the surface of the water. It was Jim Cooper. She tried to catch hold of him but the suck of the river took him away from her.
Llinos pushed her way towards the bank. She was in danger of being carried downstream, she was growing weaker. She was going to die, she would never be Joe’s wife, never walk with him on the golden plains of America.
Hands were around her then, holding her. As the water cascaded over her head, she knew that Joe was there with her. She was being drawn towards the shore and a great hope filled her.
Gasping, she hauled herself upwards, sliding in the mud, her hands grasping at grass and roots in an effort to draw herself away from the rushing water. Joe was kneeling beside her, holding her. ‘Oh, Joe!’ She touched his face wonderingly, he was here, he had brought her out of the river.
The next few seconds seemed to flash by as she heard a voice calling to her from the blackness.
‘Llinos!’ The cry resounded in her ears: it was her father. She stared into the dark of the river just as the moon emerged from behind a cloud. Lit from above as if with a lantern, she could clearly see her father, floundering in the water.
He was clinging on to what was left of his wheelchair, she could see one of the wheels spin away into the depths. Her straining eyes caught sight of the thin figure of Watt thrashing about in the water. The boy was holding her father’s head, trying desperately to keep the helpless man afloat.
She watched Joe dive cleanly into the river and her heart knocked against her ribs so hard she felt she would die. She looked frantically around her for someone to help but no-one seemed to know what was happening. She saw figures rushing from buildings. Women were screaming, running with children in their arms. There was no hope of anyone hearing her voice even if she called.
She turned back to the river and sucked in her breath as she saw Joe swimming towards the bank, pulling Lloyd behind him. Watt was doing his best to help, his head just visible above the water.
Llinos held her breath, willing Joe to safety. The river was calmer now, falling back along the banks. The water eddied away from her, swirling, carrying debris like a weapon.
As Joe drew nearer, Llinos leaned over and caught her father’s jacket. He fell against the muddy bank, breathing harshly. Watt slumped beside him, his wet hair plastered to his face. His teeth were chattering and he was shivering as though he had the ague.
Joe was still in the water. Llinos caught his hands, trying to pull him ashore, but a sudden wave swept up the bank and she was engulfed. The river pounded against her, she could not see. She could not breathe. She was dragged like a doll into the fury of the swirling river.
She was losing consciousness. She felt Joe’s arms around her, holding her. Her hands fluttered and came to rest on his bare shoulders. She and Joe were encapsulated in a shimmering light, they were being lifted upwards out of the darkness.
As the water parted over her head, she dragged in a great gulping breath. She did not know if she was alive or dead but she knew that wherever she was, Joe was there too.
It was as if a great eagle had swooped down from the darkness of the sky and plucked her from the river. She was flying through the heavens, light as the feathers of a dove.
She felt a warm breath on her face. ‘Welcome back to life, my little Firebird.’ Joe was lifting her easily in his arms. She saw over his shoulder the gleam of the morning sun, the rays spreading through the clouds like fingers of hope. This was the beginning of a new day.
The people of the row would begin again, homes would be salvaged, pottery would be made once more in the kilns of Swansea. Life would go on.
Llinos clung to Joe, her wet hair against his, their breaths mingling. She buried her face in the warmth of his neck and as he carried her away from the morning-kissed river, she knew that this was the beginning of a new life. A life she would spend with the man who was more dear to her than life itself. The man she would follow to the ends of time.
THE END