Dead Tomorrow

him feel even worse.
    ‘No, thanks,’ he said. ‘I’m fine.’
    ‘Are you sure? You look a little peaky,’ Tania said.
    ‘Never feltbetter in my life!’ Glenn said.
    Ten seconds later he leapt off his stool, lurched to the side of the boat and threw up violently. Last night’s microwaved lasagne and a lot of whisky. As well as this morning’s single piece of toast.
    Fortunately for him, and even more so for those near him, he was on the leeward side.

33
    Some while later,Glenn was woken by the rattle of the anchor chain. The engine died and suddenly the deck was no longer vibrating. He could feel the motion of the boat. The deck pushing him up, then sinking down beneath him again, rolling him left and right in the process. He heard the creak of a rope. The whine of a winch. The pop-hiss of a canned drink being opened. The crackle of radio static. Then Tania’s voice.
    ‘Hotel Uniform Oscar Oscar. This is Suspol Suspol on board MV Scoob-Eee , calling Solent Coastguard.’ Suspol was the nautical call sign for Sussex Police.
    He heard a crackled response. ‘Solent Coastguard. Solent Coastguard. Channel sixty-seven. Over.’
    Then Tania again. ‘This is Suspol. We have ten souls on board. Our position is ten nautical miles south-east of Shoreham Harbour.’ She gave the coordinates. ‘We are over our dive area and about to commence.’
    Again the crackly voice. ‘How many divers with you, Suspol, and how many in the water?’
    ‘Nine divers on board. Two going in.’
    Glenn was dimly aware that he had a blanket or a tarpaulin over him and he was no longer so cold. His head was swirling. He wanted to be anywhere, absolutely anywhere, but here. He saw Arf peering down at him.
    ‘How are you feeling, Glenn?’
    ‘Not great,’ a disembodied voice that sounded like his own responded.
    The stinkof Jeyes Fluid was even stronger suddenly.
    Arf had a kindly, avuncular face, shaded by the peak of his black baseball cap. Wisps of white hair blew loose on either side, like threads of cotton.
    ‘There are two kinds of seasickness,’ Arf said. ‘Did you know that?’
    Glenn shook his head feebly.
    ‘The first kind is when you are afraid that you are going to die.’
    Glenn stared back at him.
    ‘The second,’ Arf said, ‘is when you are afraid that you are not going to die.’
    Around him, Glenn heard laughter.
    There was a third kind, Glenn reckoned, which was the one he was experiencing now. It was when you had actually died, but you weren’t able to leave your body.
    Tania, in her drysuit, was snipping the corners off the white body bag she was taking down with her, to allow the water to flow out in the event of a recovery. Like a lot of police equipment, these bags were not suitable for underwater work, so they had to be adapted.
    With her umbilical plumbed into the surface supply panel and comms system, attended by Gonzo, she tested her suit and mask for leaks, and then the breathing and comms lines of her three-core umbilical. When they were both satisfied, she checked her watch.
    For all trained divers, awareness of the risk of the bends, or decompression sickness, was a vital part of their operating procedure. The bends was caused by nitrogen particles building up in the blood. It could be excruciatingly painful, sometimes fatal, and the way to avoid it was by takingfrequent stops on the way up from the seabed, some of them for long periods, depending on the length and depth of the dive. Dive time began the moment the diver left the surface.
    She looked once more at her umbilical, checked the position of the pink marker buoy a few yards from the boat, then launched herself backwards, jumping clear of the boat, and plunged into the turbulent sea.
    For a moment, as she went under the surface in a maelstrom of bubbles, she experienced the beautiful calm that lay beneath. Total silence, except for the hollow, echoing roar of her breathing. Then she bobbed up and, instantly, waves broke over her. She gave Gonzo the thumbs-up.
    Although she had dived countless times, both for her work and at every opportunity on holiday, entering the water gave her a fresh adrenalin rush each time. No two dives were ever the same. You didn’t know what you were going to find or experience. And she still could not quite believe her luck that she had landed this job, with this unit, which gave her the opportunity to dive somewhere almost weekly.
    Although, admittedly, diving for bodies in filthy canals full of discarded