THE RIVER 

By Tessa Harvey


    Eventually they struggled back to their house, using the blankets in the bag Elizabeth had carried. Wrapped in these had staved off some of the cold.
    Joe remembered silly days at the beach in his early teens with his mates, falling in the sea fully-clothed, then struggling, shivering uncontrollably into a hot shower. It was easier then to remove his clothes under the steaming jet.
    Amy, less wet, was helped into her pyjamas and bed. Then Elizabeth, seeing Joe already asleep in his room, also had a hot shower.
    All wet clothes could wait - sleep first.
    Minutes later, or so it seemed, the doorbell chimed and then again. It was the exact moment Joe realised he could not get out of bed. It was the precise instant.
    Amy began to scream, something she had not done for over a year and a half. Disheveled, uncertain, Elizabeth opted to open the door.
There were two police officers standing on her steps. Neither looked happy.
    The older one, a grizzled veteran of a sergeant pushed past the pale-faced aunt and raced to the source of the screams. The younger, a mere youth, also came in. He stood alone in the doorway. Lizzie had raced frantically after the other woman, calling "please, don't scare her!"

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