‘Thief!’ I heard the voice as a heavy body slammed me towards the wall, my chest and shoulder hit the metal door of the safe forcing the wind out of my lungs. I tried to duck but the person behind me had their hand in my hair and their other hand bunched around the neck of my shirt.
‘I wondered what you were doing heading away from the lifeboats, and I was right. You’re nothing but a dirty little thief.’
Releasing my collar, he grabbed the book from my pocket but of course this was a mistake. Unpinned and recovering a few seconds of breathing space, I fell in a dead weight. As I did so, I kicked out my back leg and twisted against his leg. The two of us fell into the water. He hadn’t been expecting that and it gave me a couple of vital seconds to turn and face him.
It was the man from the corridor that had barged past me earlier. Doubtless he had got his family on the lifeboats and then returned for his treasures. I couldn't imagine greater stupidity, although as I looked over his shoulder I saw my wrist brace stuck beside the safe, I realised my stupidity outstripped his. I was an idiot. How could I get past him, get the brace, and get out of here? I thought I’d try the truth.
‘Sir! Listen to me. I’m trying to save it, not steal it.’
He lunged towards me with a roar. So much for trying to reason with him. He was much larger than me but whilst he moved and fought like a street fighter his dinner jacket suggested that it had been a few years since his ill-gotten gains had elevated him from the alleyways to the opera houses. Scratch a gentleman and you’ll often find dirt and corruption under your fingernails.
I ducked under his fist and stepped to one side. Fighting in deep water was hampering both of us but his height was lending a small advantage. I smashed a punch on his nose but wasn’t quick enough to avoid a ringing clout to the ear. I slipped under the surface and was wrenched up again as he grabbed my hair. I tried to pull free but as I did the ground under my feet shuddered. He released his grip as the ship itself tipped and we were both suddenly swimming, the lights flickered once and then went out. I heard him shout out in alarm.
‘Where’s the door? I’ll let you keep the book if you get me out of here.’
I stayed silent, trying to conserve my energy. He was already lost, I didn’t want to join him.
The water level was rising quickly and I was blind, no longer able to tell whether it was a floor, ceiling or wall above my head. I needed to find the safe and get my wrist brace. Swimming forward, I decided that feeling the surface in front of me I might be able to orientate myself. The ship was now no longer filling with water but sinking to the bottom of the ocean. Time was running out. My head hit the top, the room was now almost totally full of water. I felt above me and my hands touched an ornate picture frame. This was the one opposite the safe, I was sure of it. The water now rose around my face and I could feel the onset of panic. I was freezing cold and blind and knew that my life was being counted down in seconds. Taking a deep breath, I duck dived and tried to swim down towards the safe and my wrist brace. My throat was becoming painful and my eyes were bulging. I thought my lungs would explode and I drew in a deep breath of water.
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and finally...
It’s easy to think of an author writing in some splendid isolation. Scribbling away in a fabulous den or some book lined study. Usually though, they are clearing a space at the kitchen table, shouting at the children or grabbing five minutes at the end of work. Alternatively they are jotting down great ideas whilst they’re out shopping, then getting home and wondering what that unintelligible scrawl was supposed to signify.
Or at least that’s me. So I am hugely grateful to two of my friends, Anna and Alexandra, and to Steve, my husband. I want to thank them for their reading of each draft and their encouragement at every step of the way. I am also grateful that any eye-rolling over my constant pleas for reassurance, were done behind my back.
A special thanks also goes to Alexandra who came away with me for a small writing break, where she helped me shape the series.
You are going to love what comes next...
First published 2020 by Mudlark’s Press
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Mudlark’s Press
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.
First paperback edition 2020
ISBN 9781913628017 (paperback)
ISBN 9781913628024 (large print)
www.thequantumcurators.com
