Then arms encircled me and I didn’t have to kick any more. “I’ll get you back. It’s going to be fine.”
Gabe.
I clung onto him, my eyes still on Shep who had hold of Harry and was swimming with him to his boat. Gabe took me there too, keeping my head above water while my body continued to shake. The sea was frigidly cold; the shock and the fear were now reeking their effect on me and I knew tears were very close.
Hands pulled me into the boat and a wet but okay little boy slipped onto my lap, already wrapped in foil. Some went round me, then Gabe’s arms even though he was sopping wet too. I saw our boat being turned back over and decided not to think any more about what could’ve happened.
“Do you know why you went over?” Shep asked, crouching down as one of his crew started to take us back to shore.
“No idea.” My teeth chattered. “We were heading back in and then we were in the sea. Jesus.” Gabe’s arms tightened.
“Speedboat.” Shep said. “Clipped you and sent you over. They were going too fast and clearly lost control. Coastguard will pick them up.”
“Probably drunk.” The crew mate who I didn’t know added.
I felt Gabe stiffen, his arms still tight.
Nausea started to crease my stomach. But I didn’t think it was because of cold or shock. It was him. I could feel how his body became a tight container, bottling every fear he’d just gone through.
I hadn’t been there when Calen died. I’d been at home in bed, possibly with a book, possibly making a mug of tea to take to bed, maybe even on the phone to my sister. I hadn’t been there to see the aftermath or witness a tragedy in progress.
Gabe had.
And he’d just witnessed what could’ve been another.
We docked and clambered off the boat, Harry in the process of asking question number eighty-five about the boats and fishing equipment. The possibilities of what could’ve happened had not occurred to him, and hopefully wouldn’t. Instead, he’d probably always remind me to never go out without my life jacket.
Gabe let go of me when my feet were on solid ground. He was soaked and still silent, his eyes flitting from one thing to the next. I called my nephew over and wrapped him in a huge hug that made him wriggle. He had warmed up and was seemingly none the worse for falling into the sea. If I gave him the option, he’d want to get back out on the boat.
“I’ll run you home, Anya,” Shep said. “I’m done for the day and I need to call by the guesthouse with a delivery.” He glanced at Gabe and back to me, understanding that all was not well.
“You’re soaking.” I stated the obvious.
Shep shrugged. “Sooner I drop you, sooner I get home to change. You want a lift, Gabe?”
Gabe shook his head. “I’m going to head off. Catch you later, Anya.”
I watched him turn and start to jog back to his house. It was then it caught me, the sense of futility tapping me on the shoulder like I’d just lost in a game of tig.
We were both broken. How can you fix something when you’re broken yourself?
Gabe
It didn’t matter that I was soaking wet or that I’d swallowed a couple of gallons of sea water. I didn’t notice how the light meandered through the clouds or how the gulls had soared higher. I didn’t notice anything apart from my need to fuck off away from everyone and shut down.
I pushed open the front door hard enough to make it bang, and went upstairs, tossing off my T-shirt and losing my trainers somewhere along the way. The house had a small bedroom room, currently full of boxes which my parents had brought up one weekend when they figured I really had backed away from my life as it was.
I sat down with my back to the wall, legs bent to my chest and put my forehead to my knees. The wet on my face wasn’t from the sea. I heard sirens, the screech of tyres, the harsh crunch of metal on metal and then it repeated.
Flashbacks.
I saw Anya’s boat tip as it was clipped by the speedboat. Saw her disappear. The panic I’d managed to suppress at the time flooded me now and I shook, the light from the small window filtering onto me, a spotlight. The fucking disastrous hero in some sort of post-Shakespearian tragedy.
Time died with the light. My head had emptied and the panic had given way to numbness, which in turn had left me raw. Outside, the sky had turned to orange, the clouds blackened, the earth’s smoke.
What if she’d drowned?
The thought made me feel sick.
