Sheerwater - from chapter one
Ava felt the sea move in her blood before she saw it.
She turned onto the Great Ocean Road and the sea filled the windscreen with all its dark blue eternity. After the hours they had travelled they were nearly there! Having lost the tailgater some miles back she could touch on the brake to slow down. She turned up ‘Everything in its Right Place’ by Radiohead. ‘Everything, everything,’ she sang out of tune, and the boys also sang that single word, the only part of the song they knew, their young voices catching her excitement. She watched the sea coming towards her, fresh thoughts tumbling through her mind. Light stains the sky! Water sprays the rocks! Existence is certain! The sight of the riotous sea perversely created a peaceful, crisp and even sweet sensation through her limbs, a coolness like moonlight gathering in the garden before the night gets old. She smiled, she couldn’t help it, some buoyant, forgotten self was stretching out and humming nearly there, nearly there, when she caught sight of something wrong in the sky.
‘Look at that, Mum!’ cried Max.
Hurtling, glittering, its trajectory making no sense; Ava blinked, feeling all that hardness and brightness falling. Was it falling towards them? A meteor, a diamond – no, not a flying diamond, you idiot. Should she accelerate or brake? She chose to brake, checking the road and the sky, the road and the sky, over and over.
‘Aeroplane!’ said Teddy.
Yes, that was it. She recognised the distinctive design of a Cessna with the wings on top like a bird’s. She’d flown in them before. ‘Looks like it.’
Later, Ava would think of the phrases out of the clear blue sky and a bolt from the blue. The four-seater was flying dangerously low and rattling. She closed the windows to muffle the thunderous sound and a thin sweat, the body’s panic tide, broke between her shoulders as Max said with certainty: ‘That plane’s gonna crash.’
‘No it isn’t,’ said Ava, letting the car roll forward a little, and then: ‘Maybe it’s meant to land there,’ but the loud wobbling splutter made a mockery of her words. She heard the engine cut out and feared the Cessna would drop from the sky onto the road ahead. She braked again and the three of them watched as the plane nosed into a grassy paddock close to the cliff edge.
‘It did crash, Mummy,’ said Teddy.
Ava waited for the plane to burst into flames but it did not. It lay utterly still, smoking slightly. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her hands seemed glued to it. ‘Oh my God.’
She inched the car forward and looked around. No traffic, now when she needed it most. She knew what she must do and she didn’t want to do it. Veering left, she drove a little way into the paddock – she wouldn’t leave the car on the side of the road with the boys inside in case a truck approached at monstrous speed. Nor would she park too close to the plane in case there was an explosion. What she wanted more than anything was to simply keep driving. Oh why this, why now?
‘Okay, boys,’ she said, turning around to look at them while fumbling in her pocket for her phone. Max had the dog on his lap. ‘I’m going to run up to the plane and check on the people. Okay? And you must stay here. I might be a little while but you can watch me. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t get out of the car. Stay in the car. Max, you look after Teddy, okay? You have to be a big boy and look after him. Tell him a story, sing him a song.’
‘I could tell him golden star.’
‘Good boy.’
Ava got out, slammed the door, jammed the keys in her pocket and ran towards the plane, tapping triple zero into her phone, yelling directions to the operator. Her eyes watered in the strong wind. The plane lay crumpled in the field of glary light and wavy grasses with the dark sea beyond. Two heads visible in the cockpit. A black-haired man in a flannel shirt was slumped over the controls.
Ava pulled at the door beside him but it wouldn’t open. ‘Shit!’ She kicked at it. ‘Come on, come on.’
She tried the handle again. The door gave and she shouted. Inside, she gauged the state of the occupants: the woman next to the pilot had her eyes closed and her head flung back into the seat. In the back was an unconscious boy and a small, staring girl. All needed help. She’d have to act fast. Ava took a breath deep into her belly to calm herself as she’d been trained to do. She was steadier than this, she was known for being good under pressure – always a much easier feat with a trained team around you.
She grabbed the pilot’s shoulders and eased him back against the seat. His face was dripping blood. It seemed his head had been flung forward into the compass. He was breathing. She checked his head for soft skull fractures with her fingertips. None. The blood seemed to be coming from a surface laceration. She checked his arms and legs for breaks. All seemed sound and she couldn’t risk leaving him in the plane in any case.
‘I’ll come back, don’t worry,’ she told the little girl in the back, whose eyes were fixed on Ava. She unclasped the pilot’s seatbelt, hooking her arms under his armpits and pulling until his body flopped onto the ground with a thump.
‘Drag him clear!’ came a shout, and she glanced up to see a man running towards her. ‘You right with him?’
‘The passenger side!’ she cried. ‘A woman! Children in the back!’
‘The engine’s smoking. Hurry back,’ he shouted. His eyes seemed too sharp and bright in the gaunt face covered with patchy stubble. Was it the tailgater from earlier? Still right behind her?
‘Get him as far away as you can,’ he yelled. ‘Fuck. How do you open the door?’
He must have worked it out because Ava saw the passenger door spring open. She glanced over to her car. Saw Max’s head, dimly, through the glass. She dragged the pilot further over the bumpy ground, her arms straining. He was thickset and solid but she had a good angle on him and he was lighter than some of the furniture she’d been moving at home. Remembering the oak desk she’d hauled out of the living room only a week ago, she thought, You can move him. Pull him, pull him as far as you can! She pulled and grunted and pulled until he was a good way clear.
She stretched out his left arm on the ground at a right angle to his body, with his palm facing upwards. She took his right arm and placed it across his chest so that the back of his hand was on his cheek and held it there. With her free hand, she bent his right knee and gently rolled him away from her. His limbs were limp and heavy. Ava tilted the pilot’s head back and his chin forward to make sure his airway was open, and listened for his breathing. She caught the rhythmic sigh, the lungs opening and closing like doors. She left him in the grass and ran back to the plane.
She turned onto the Great Ocean Road and the sea filled the windscreen with all its dark blue eternity. After the hours they had travelled they were nearly there! Having lost the tailgater some miles back she could touch on the brake to slow down. She turned up ‘Everything in its Right Place’ by Radiohead. ‘Everything, everything,’ she sang out of tune, and the boys also sang that single word, the only part of the song they knew, their young voices catching her excitement. She watched the sea coming towards her, fresh thoughts tumbling through her mind. Light stains the sky! Water sprays the rocks! Existence is certain! The sight of the riotous sea perversely created a peaceful, crisp and even sweet sensation through her limbs, a coolness like moonlight gathering in the garden before the night gets old. She smiled, she couldn’t help it, some buoyant, forgotten self was stretching out and humming nearly there, nearly there, when she caught sight of something wrong in the sky.
‘Look at that, Mum!’ cried Max.
Hurtling, glittering, its trajectory making no sense; Ava blinked, feeling all that hardness and brightness falling. Was it falling towards them? A meteor, a diamond – no, not a flying diamond, you idiot. Should she accelerate or brake? She chose to brake, checking the road and the sky, the road and the sky, over and over.
‘Aeroplane!’ said Teddy.
Yes, that was it. She recognised the distinctive design of a Cessna with the wings on top like a bird’s. She’d flown in them before. ‘Looks like it.’
Later, Ava would think of the phrases out of the clear blue sky and a bolt from the blue. The four-seater was flying dangerously low and rattling. She closed the windows to muffle the thunderous sound and a thin sweat, the body’s panic tide, broke between her shoulders as Max said with certainty: ‘That plane’s gonna crash.’
‘No it isn’t,’ said Ava, letting the car roll forward a little, and then: ‘Maybe it’s meant to land there,’ but the loud wobbling splutter made a mockery of her words. She heard the engine cut out and feared the Cessna would drop from the sky onto the road ahead. She braked again and the three of them watched as the plane nosed into a grassy paddock close to the cliff edge.
‘It did crash, Mummy,’ said Teddy.
Ava waited for the plane to burst into flames but it did not. It lay utterly still, smoking slightly. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her hands seemed glued to it. ‘Oh my God.’
She inched the car forward and looked around. No traffic, now when she needed it most. She knew what she must do and she didn’t want to do it. Veering left, she drove a little way into the paddock – she wouldn’t leave the car on the side of the road with the boys inside in case a truck approached at monstrous speed. Nor would she park too close to the plane in case there was an explosion. What she wanted more than anything was to simply keep driving. Oh why this, why now?
‘Okay, boys,’ she said, turning around to look at them while fumbling in her pocket for her phone. Max had the dog on his lap. ‘I’m going to run up to the plane and check on the people. Okay? And you must stay here. I might be a little while but you can watch me. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t get out of the car. Stay in the car. Max, you look after Teddy, okay? You have to be a big boy and look after him. Tell him a story, sing him a song.’
‘I could tell him golden star.’
‘Good boy.’
Ava got out, slammed the door, jammed the keys in her pocket and ran towards the plane, tapping triple zero into her phone, yelling directions to the operator. Her eyes watered in the strong wind. The plane lay crumpled in the field of glary light and wavy grasses with the dark sea beyond. Two heads visible in the cockpit. A black-haired man in a flannel shirt was slumped over the controls.
Ava pulled at the door beside him but it wouldn’t open. ‘Shit!’ She kicked at it. ‘Come on, come on.’
She tried the handle again. The door gave and she shouted. Inside, she gauged the state of the occupants: the woman next to the pilot had her eyes closed and her head flung back into the seat. In the back was an unconscious boy and a small, staring girl. All needed help. She’d have to act fast. Ava took a breath deep into her belly to calm herself as she’d been trained to do. She was steadier than this, she was known for being good under pressure – always a much easier feat with a trained team around you.
She grabbed the pilot’s shoulders and eased him back against the seat. His face was dripping blood. It seemed his head had been flung forward into the compass. He was breathing. She checked his head for soft skull fractures with her fingertips. None. The blood seemed to be coming from a surface laceration. She checked his arms and legs for breaks. All seemed sound and she couldn’t risk leaving him in the plane in any case.
‘I’ll come back, don’t worry,’ she told the little girl in the back, whose eyes were fixed on Ava. She unclasped the pilot’s seatbelt, hooking her arms under his armpits and pulling until his body flopped onto the ground with a thump.
‘Drag him clear!’ came a shout, and she glanced up to see a man running towards her. ‘You right with him?’
‘The passenger side!’ she cried. ‘A woman! Children in the back!’
‘The engine’s smoking. Hurry back,’ he shouted. His eyes seemed too sharp and bright in the gaunt face covered with patchy stubble. Was it the tailgater from earlier? Still right behind her?
‘Get him as far away as you can,’ he yelled. ‘Fuck. How do you open the door?’
He must have worked it out because Ava saw the passenger door spring open. She glanced over to her car. Saw Max’s head, dimly, through the glass. She dragged the pilot further over the bumpy ground, her arms straining. He was thickset and solid but she had a good angle on him and he was lighter than some of the furniture she’d been moving at home. Remembering the oak desk she’d hauled out of the living room only a week ago, she thought, You can move him. Pull him, pull him as far as you can! She pulled and grunted and pulled until he was a good way clear.
She stretched out his left arm on the ground at a right angle to his body, with his palm facing upwards. She took his right arm and placed it across his chest so that the back of his hand was on his cheek and held it there. With her free hand, she bent his right knee and gently rolled him away from her. His limbs were limp and heavy. Ava tilted the pilot’s head back and his chin forward to make sure his airway was open, and listened for his breathing. She caught the rhythmic sigh, the lungs opening and closing like doors. She left him in the grass and ran back to the plane.