The Drowning Read Online Free PDF Page A

different place at three thirty in the morning. Half the shops have their eyes closed — shutters down and locked. The rubbish bins are overflowing. Fish-and-chip wrappers, bottles, flyers, and old newspapers. A piece of soggy paper sticks to my shoe. I kick it off, but my eye’s caught by a newspaper nearby.
    It’s a local paper, and I’m on the front page.
    It’s the photo with Rob looking down his nose, and me not quite looking at the lens. And next to it, a photo of Neisha,not the one I’ve got in my pocket. This is another school one. Hair brushed. No earrings. White shirt, burgundy tie and cardigan.
    I crouch down and read the article, holding the paper up so that it catches the streetlight.
    Police are describing the death of local teenager Robert “Rob” Adams, 17, as a tragic accident. Robert died on Tuesday after emergency services were called to the lake in Imperial Park, Kingsleigh, at approximately 4:30 p.m. Police divers recovered his body from the water, and he was declared dead at the scene.
    It is understood that he had been swimming with his brother, Carl, 15, and a friend, Neisha Gupta, 16. Weather conditions were said to be “atrocious,” with Kingsleigh hit by a severe storm at around the same time.
    Inspector Dave Anthony of the Kingsleigh Police Department said, “Initial investigations all point to this being a tragic accident. This is a well-known spot where local youngsters often swim in the lake, despite warning signs, and unfortunately it appears that young Rob got into trouble, which resulted in his death. We will be talking to the other young people involved when they are up to it, to find out exactly what happened. Our thoughts are with his family and friends.”
    Sources confirm that a postmortem has taken place. The results will be reported to the coroner.
    Kerry Adams, 34, Robert’s mother, was too distraught to comment at the time this went to press.
    I read it again, more slowly this time, trying to take in every word. At first reading it just seemed to confirm what I alreadyknew — my brother drowned in a lake. This time, I see that there’s more there, much more. Neisha is Neisha Gupta. She’s sixteen. There was a storm. The police want to talk to me. There’s been a postmortem. The press have tried to talk to Mum.
    I try to process all this. For some reason my mind keeps sticking on the word postmortem . God, they’ve cut him up. I don’t want to think about it, but I can’t stop. Somewhere out there is my brother’s body. The zipper goes past his face, over his head. They’ve cut into it, looked inside. I glance back at the photo, and I can’t get the two things to fit together. A schoolboy, bit cocky, bit tough — and a cut-up body on a slab. Shit.
    A drop of water lands in the middle of the photo. I look up and I feel a splash on my face, just to the right of my eye. Cold and light. Another splash hits the paper, and another. It’s starting to rain.
    It’s pounding the surface, bouncing up, making a layer of spray. The lake looks like it’s boiling. I can’t see the bank anymore. I can’t see anything, anyone. The rain’s pushing me down, the water’s pulling at me. Rob and Neisha have disappeared. I can’t see them and I can’t hear them. I’m treading water, turning my head left and right, trying to make out anything I can through this relentless wall of rain. Every time I breathe I get water in my mouth. It catches in my throat. I spit and inhale again, and it’s the same.
    I don’t want to be in the rain. I don’t want to get wet. My panic is physical. I’ve got a lump in the back of my throat and my heart’s beating fast. I’m sweating and my legs are shaking. I’ve got to get out of this. I’ve got to find somewhere to hide.
    I pick the newspaper up and stuff it inside my jacket. Then I start running. The rain’s coming down heavily. Ahead of me someone darts into a shop doorway. Someone else on the main street, at four o’clock in the