The shower was long and hot. Self-analysing was something I’d become too familiar with, especially over the last few months and I tried not to think about what we’d done, beyond how good he’d made me feel. I had nothing to apologise for. I needed to stop finding reasons to blame myself.
When I came out of the bathroom, Nan was sitting on the sofa, reading the paper. She peered up at me and raised a single eyebrow, her tell that she knew exactly what I’d been up to.
“How’s Gabe?”
Jesus. The woman had some form of witchy sixth sense.
“He’s very, very good.” If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
“I thought he might be. He reminds me of your grandfather with the way he moves, or glides. I’ve never seen him looking awkward. So you had a good night?”
How much information should I try to scar her with?
“Yeah. Very good. And a good morning.”
She nodded, looking back down at the paper that looked old, as in yellowing and fragile old.
“How did you know where I was?”
“Michael mentioned that you were talking to him at the bar. He popped in on his way home to pick up something that a client had dropped off. And I saw you with Gabe the other day when you were upset.”
That bothered me. I didn’t want my family to worry any more about me than they already had.
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not, so stop trying to pretend that you are. Because you shouldn’t be okay. You have every right to not be okay. These things take time.” She folded the paper and put it down next to her.
If she had said those words to me a week ago, I’d have fallen apart. Now I felt stronger, as if the feelings I had were no longer owning me. Acceptance was something my therapist had talked with me about and I think I finally knew what she’d meant. I couldn’t change what had happened, or change how I felt about it at the time. I could only accept it and work with what was left and where it had left me.
“I know. I’m beginning to realise that.”
“You also understand the concept of pause. Sit back and take a longer ride?”
I shook my head.
“It was one of your grandfather’s favourite sayings.Sit back and take a longer ride. What he meant was wait. Do nothing, if you don’t know exactly what to do. Wait until you have more information, then make a choice.”
I perched on the arm of the sofa. “That makes sense.”
She nodded. “You always need to have the answers, Anya. You can just sayI don’t know. I get that Kim has put pressure on you to move home too?”
“Kind of. That sounds harsh though. She wants me to come back and I know it’s not just so I can babysit or help out.”
“She wants her sister nearby. And she doesn’t understand why anyone would live somewhere else. But I do. You know, where you live is your choice. You’re not Aunt Marcy, pinned to the guesthouse for life.”
I looked at the newspaper and saw the headline,Missing Woman Found on Beach. There was a photograph and before I even saw the name, I knew who it was. Julia Stretton, Don’s wife. The couple my aunt had been captivated with. I read the article quickly. It was short and to the point, without the elaboration we were used to now.
LOCAL WOMAN IN DROWNING DEATH
Julia Stretton,wife of Donald Stretton, Junior, was killed yesterday in a boating accident off the coast of Moelfre. Julia (23) fell off the side of new boat, The Lady Haven, a gift given by her father-in-law, Henry Stretton as a token of thanks for how his boating industry was ran in the port.
The deceased was enjoying a day at sea with four others, including her husband when the incident occurred. She allegedly fell overboard after feeling nauseous and leaning over the side of the vessel. The sea, which was rougher than expected, caused her to become unsteady and lose balance, unfortunately falling into the water.
Witnesses on board say that they heard a loud bang and a scream before rushing outside. They were able to recover Mrs Stretton’s body from the water, but she had already died before lifesaving procedures could be administered.
Her husband of four years is said to be heartbroken. The couple were known as being devoted to one another, and rarely apart. Police have interviewed those involved and have concluded that the death was a tragic accident, although there has been some concern as to whether someone else was present when Mrs Stretton fell overboard.
The small fishing port is said to be in deep shock that something so tragic has happened on its doorstep.
