In Too Deep by D C Grant Page A

not being able to breathe, the panic and the fear. He couldn’t do it. He had to get out of the water.
    He pulled against the force of the waves. It was harder now that he wasn’t going with the water. He stumbled and the sea grabbed at his ankles, pulling him down under the waves, but he pushed himself up and came out above water level. The sea retreated behind him, rushing out to join the next incoming wave, which surged forward and broke around him. It tried to push him down towards the sand, but he maintained his balance and pushed his way through. The sea made one last attempt as he staggered out, but the water was too shallow and he fell forward onto the wet sand. A small wave embraced him from head to foot, then ran out, leaving him cold and wet on the sand.
    He turned over and sat up, looking back at the sea. “Not today,” he whispered to the foaming waves.
    There was a strong wind blowing off the sea and he started to shiver. He had to get home and change into dry clothes before the cold air did what the sea had been unable to do. When he stood up the wind cut right through his clothes as though he were naked and chilled him instantly. He began to walk, staggering across the sand, his feet squelching in his sodden shoes. He turned away from the sea and headed towards the dunes, but had difficulty climbing them. The sand gave way under his feet and for every two steps he slipped back one. He would have cursed, but his teeth were clamped together. If he released them, his jaw would start to chatter uncontrollably. It wasn’t much better on the road. There was a less wind, but the tarmac had lost the heat from the day and was just as cold as the sand.
    With a sigh of relief that started off a bout of chattering teeth, he turned into his driveway. The house was in darkness. He staggered up the steps and collapsed at the front door. He’d made it so far and now his strength ebbed away. He reached up to turn the front door handle, but it wouldn’t turn. It was locked. He began to shake the door, crying out to be let in. When no one came he slumped against the door as tears pricked at his eyes. He just wanted to go to bed.
    A light snapped on inside. A key turned in the lock. The door swung inwards and he fell inside. He felt no pain from the fall. He glanced up at his father who looked down on him in astonishment.
    “Josh, where the hell have you been?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Do you know what time it is?”
    Josh couldn’t answer. He rolled over onto his hands and knees and crawled the rest of the way inside.
    His father closed the door and knelt beside him, then turned his head away, wrinkling up his nose in disgust. “You stink,” he said. “You’ve been drinking? I told you not to go to that party. How did you get so wet?”
    “Went for … a swim,” Josh stuttered.
    “In your clothes? Are you mad? Come on, let’s get you to bed. It’s three o’clock in the morning. I’ve been lying here awake waiting for you. You really know how to test my patience. Come on, get up. Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”
    His father helped him to his feet and then supported him as they made their way to Josh’s bedroom. There he sat Josh at the edge of his bed and pried off his shoes and then began to undo the buttons on Josh’s shirt.
    Josh brushed his father’s hands away. “I’ll do … it.” He wondered why his mouth wouldn’t work.
    His father took hold of Josh’s hand and held it in front of his face so that he could look at it. The fingers were all blue.
    “You think you can do it with these?” he asked. “Your lips are the same colour. Why’d you get into the water at this time of night? You could have drowned. If I don’t get you out of these cold clothes, you’ll get hypothermia.”
    He was being rough now as he jerked the shirt off Josh’s arms. Josh could tell he was angry, but he was comforted by the fact that his father was taking care of him. His heavy eyelids began