Nina had been on and off Leo’s mind over the years, but he’d learned to get on with it. She’d hurt him when she fled the bay and him without so much as a goodbye, let alone an explanation. His calls had gone unanswered; begging with Walt had led to nothing other than to know that she was all right and that she wasn’t coming back. Leo had felt sorry for the old man because he had turned up at Walt’s bungalow many a time when she first left, hoping she might be there. Walt and Elsie had comforted him with their words and their cups of tea, told him Nina didn’t know how to help herself, let alone be with anyone else. Their allegiance had of course been with Nina, butthey’d never turned him away and always assured him that they’d let her know he asked after her every single day.
As time wore on, his visits to Nina’s family became less frequent. Nina had left, so had Adrian, the two most important people in his life. Leo had had an image of his future in his head for as long as he could remember. Part of that image was him and Adrian running the boathouse together, brothers in arms. The other part was his happy-ever-after with Nina, and yet when she left and so did Adrian, he threw himself into the business that he was managing and running on his own and did so with such passion, and if he was honest, obsession, to make it work. He’d always seen himself settling down in the bay, being like his grandparents and his parents, happy with one another, a couple of kids or maybe more, content with life on the south coast and fulfilled. He’d thought he’d settle down with Nina, but since she left he hadn’t met anyone else. Some days he thought that a good thing – less chance of being hurt that way. And Nina turning up now was like throwing a grenade into what he’d built after the tragedy that sent some people running. He’d long since buried his feelings about a future with a family of his own – it was still on the periphery, but no longer front and centre, the boathouse had become that. But Nina O’Brien? Well she had the power to change everything.
Leo couldn’t relax at work, his mind on other things apart from the business. He spent his time with one eye out the window because from there, the side of the boathouse, you could just about see beyond and through the trees to both his cabin and the one which still caused him grief even to this day. He wasn’t sure whether he was wary of another glimpse of the woman who’d broken his heartor whether it was actually what he wanted. He’d been rude to her last night but given he hadn’t heard a word since she upped and left, he wasn’t going to be overly nice. Why should he be? He’d never stopped hurting but he’d learned to bury that pain and deal with it and the boathouse had become his one true love. Somehow he’d carried on and he didn’t much appreciate her being back now, dragging up the past to rub his face in it. He could do without it.
At lunchtime Leo turned the sign on the door to Closed so he could duck out to the bank and for some lunch. The rain had come this morning, the cooler temperatures too, a true reminder that another summer was as good as over. Business-wise it had been a good season, and despite being at the tail end of it plenty of people still wanted to make the most of the calm waters and being able to have lessons before the season was completely over for the less experienced. Leo had run classes throughout the summer with school holiday programmes in demand, so it was nice to take a step back and be able to do things like close for an hour in the middle of the day and head into town. And he needed the break because tonight he had an eighteenth birthday party coming for a kayak session. It would be manic, he expected and he only hoped they saved the drinking and crazy behaviour until well after they’d left here. He knew the hard way how dangerous it could be out on the open water; the whole town did.
Salthaven was very much within walking distance from the old boathouse, but Leo took his truck for speed because it would give him the chance to drive up to Adrian’s place afterwards and check up on his brother. He’d do it under the pretence of wanting company for lunchalthough he knew now that his brother wouldn’t believe that for a second.
He parked halfway between the pier and the shops, the only place he could find a one-hour free space in the popular town, and after he’d been to the bank he picked up some supplies for the boathouse and for home and collected two baguettes from a local bakery, both stuffed with chorizo and halloumi and salad leaves.
Back at his car Leo was about to pull away from the kerb when he saw Rhianne’s mum, Bridget and although he was pushed for time, he could never ignore either her or her husband Elijah. He turned off the engine and wound down the window and answered her questions about the boathouse and the calm now the summer holidays were over; they discussed the roadworks a few miles out of Salthaven that created a tailback a couple of miles long and you regretted joining as there were no shortcuts. They touched on the reason she had with her a whole bag of oranges – she was making marmalade later today – and inevitably they talked about Rhianne.
‘She hated oranges and never could understand why anyone would spread marmalade on their toast,’ Bridget smiled before telling him that Rhianne’s go-to for her morning toast had been real butter and a tiny scraping of Marmite.
At least the woman could smile. Leo wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to stand up ever again if he’d endured what she had. Every parent’s worst nightmare, burying their own child. After Rhianne’s funeral Leo had avoided any interaction with her parents, whether it was conversation or even eye contact until one day he’d talked to his mum about it. She’d explained their pain from a parent’sperspective: she talked about him as a baby, how she’d felt about her sons over the years, what Rhianne’s mum and dad must be going through. That day he’d cried for the first time since the drowning, like a toddler who’d fallen and cut open his knee and his mum had cradled him like she must’ve done when he was little. Ever since that conversation with his mum, Leo had made a point of always being available to talk to Elijah and Bridget whenever they wanted.
‘I got myself a good recipe for chocolate orange cake,’ Bridget informed him.
‘That sounds mighty good to me.’
‘I got it from Jo at the café.’ She adjusted the bag onto her other arm. ‘I wanted to talk to her for longer, but you know what the café at the end of the pier is like, busy even out of season.’
‘I sure do. And I’ll bet it’s a delicious recipe. You enjoy it.’
‘I will,’ she smiled. ‘I’d better get going.’ But before she did she said, ‘Your mum told me Adrian has come home.’
‘That’s right.’ Although he wasn’t sure ‘come home’ was the right phrase. He was living back this way but so far hadn’t ventured far beyond his front door, let alone down to the water he’d loved for many years.
‘Do give him our best, I hope to see him around.’
‘I will.’ Leo waved goodbye, but his smile soon disappeared. He’d pass the message on, but he doubted very much that Adrian would want to hear it because it was Adrian who’d been in charge of the boat the night Rhianne drowned and he’d never forgiven himself for what happened. He blamed himself; he hadn’t been able to save her. And she wasn’t just someone on board, she’d dated him for a while, although Leo always got the impressionshe was more keen than he was. He wondered how much of his brother leaving the bay and avoiding the water was down to guilt and how much was grief, when he’d known Rhianne better than any of them.
Leo pulled up on the driveway at Adrian’s place. His brother had rented a top-floor flat with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the cliffs and the sea. He couldn’t see Salthaven from his flat but he could see a part of Stepping Stone Bay and a good chunk of the rest of the coast. Somehow it felt better that despite his brother’s reluctance to get involved with the boathouse again or venture near to the sea, part of his heart still lay with the ocean in this view his new place afforded.
He pressed the buzzer at the bottom of the substantial detached period residence which had been renovated from a family home into three separate dwellings, with what was once the garden out front now allocated parking spaces.
‘Card for tomorrow,’ said Leo, handing over his brother’s birthday card the moment Adrian answered the door. ‘And a chicken and chorizo baguette in here,’ he smiled, holding the carrier bag aloft as the waft of the food announced its arrival anyway.
‘Is that my birthday gift?’ Adrian enquired.
‘We’ve talked about that,’ said Leo. ‘I’m willing to give you one hell of a thirty-fifth birthday gift if you’ll let me. Come into the boathouse business with me, like we always planned. Otherwise it’s a six-pack of beer or a few nice bottles of wine unless you can think of another present.’
Adrian pulled two plates from the walnut wall cupboard in a kitchen so sleek Leo hoped he didn’t mess it up merely by sitting there on the high stool. ‘We have talkedabout it. And I’m still not interested. I’m a teacher.’
‘There’s a sentence I never thought you’d say. But I’ll bet you’re good.’ He always had had patience teaching people to sail or kayak or paddleboard. Leo just never thought Adrian would’ve exchanged the open air for the four walls of a classroom.
‘It pays all right, don’t have to worry about the weather apart from snow days.’
‘How’s the job hunt going?’ Adrian had left his permanent teaching role in Leeds without a job to go to.
‘I’m going to do supply teaching for a while, probably get my name down at a local school soon enough, but no rush.’
Leo supposed a break would do his brother good. He still wasn’t himself. He’d left the bay on a bit of a high that the rest of the family had seen through. It had been a front to mask his pain, all the enthusiasm about a new future, a new wife, the promise of a completely fresh start. And now he was back it was as though he’d finally returned to earth from his mission and needed time to slowly readjust. He’d been through so much – the summer tragedy they’d all been there for, getting married, divorcing, quitting a job, moving here. Just thinking about it was enough to make anyone’s head ache.
‘Your neglected boat is still waiting for you at the marina,’ Leo told his brother. ‘I take it out now and again, you know, just so it doesn’t get upset.’
Adrian managed to at least find that mildly amusing. ‘Cheers, bro. Say hello from me won’t you?’
