I go to my room and sit down on the little bed. It creaks like I knew it would. I’m suddenly very tired. I didn’t sleep much last night and when I did drop off, just before dawn, I dreamt about donkeys running amok though my wedding, ruining everything.
I start putting my few belongings into a plastic bag. I open the little drawer in the bedside cabinet and take out my rings. I hold the engagement ring up in front of my face. I remember when we bought it.
Brian had been away on a walking holiday, not long after we’d been sailing. I had to drop out. The new manageress had walked out and Betty was due in hospital for a hip replacement. She wanted me to cover and keep the place running, but Kimberly thought she should do it. Istuck to doing extra shifts in the kitchen and sorting out the mess Kimberly had made of the till at night. Brian and Adrian went on the walking holiday instead. When Brian came back he seemed different somehow, more interested in me. He took me out for lunch – well, sandwiches in Costa Coffee, which was a bit of a busman’s holiday – and then said we were going to choose a ring; it was time we got engaged now we’d been together for three years. He didn’t actually ask me, just sort of let me know. But that was as close as it got to romance with Brian. He was a very practical man, had life mapped out. Which is why I think he surprised himself as much as anyone when he ran out on our wedding day. He wasn’t a man for impulsive actions.
We went and chose a ring and I went back to work. He picked it up two days later and brought it into The Coffee House – Betty’s Buns had now become a faceless franchise. Kimberly nearly died when she saw the ring and decided the Atkins diet was the only way forward for her. Betty eyed it and told Brian it should’ve been bigger, what with him being a minor celebrity in the area. But I knew his minor celebrity wages wouldn’t have been much more than mine. The radio station where Brian worked announced his engagement on air. He took the congratulations while I went back to baking a batch of blueberry muffins for the after-school rush.
I never really felt comfortable wearing the ring, though. Mostly I had it on a chain around my neck and Brian had to remind me to put it on after work. I was too worried about losing it in a French fancy or custard slice. I thought it was too expensive, but Brian assured me he had it covered.
I turn it over. It doesn’t sparkle or make me smile, but it might just help me out. I stand up and Brian’s sweatshirt, the one I have worn every night since I arrived here, falls to the floor. I pick it up, leave it on the bed and then walk out, shutting the door behind me.
Sean is coming into the kitchen at the same time as me. His hair is tossed all over the place and his face is pale and drawn, a far cry from the man who’d been so happy yesterday.
My heart does a quick double beat, then feels like someone’s squeezing it tightly. I swallow hard and clear my throat. ‘It can be repaired, right?’ I say, feeling stupid. He looks at me and sighs. He goes to the cupboard and gets out two cups, one for coffee, one for tea, and then reaches down and pulls out a new bottle of whiskey.
‘You won’t sell up, will you? You won’t leave?’ I have to know.
He pours water into the cups and then bangs down the kettle, making me jump. ‘What part of this are you struggling with? I’m an oyster farmer without any oysters to sell. Without oysters I can’t pay for my licence, nor can I buy in any new spat to fatten up and sell.’ He pours a slug of whiskey into his coffee.
He hates me, and why wouldn’t he? I’ve ruined his business.
‘Anyway, why does it matter to you? You’re leaving,’ he says coldly. He swallows his coffee, even though it’s so hot it must have burnt his mouth, and marches out. He obviously can’t stand to be in the same room as me.
‘Sean, wait!’ I run out after him with my bag of belongings. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Galway. See if I can find someone to help salvage what’s left of my business.’ He’s pulling on his wax jacket as he stalks across to the van.
‘Wait, I’m coming with you.’
He looks at me and then back out at the damaged oyster beds, and then gets into the van saying nothing.
We travel along the coast road in silence. Sean is gently simmering. Eventually, an hour or so later I summon upthe courage to speak. I turn to look at him.
‘Just tell me you’re not going to sell up.’
He’s looking straight ahead.
‘Not if I can help it, but I’m not sure what options I have,’ he replies. Then he turns to me. ‘And now I don’t even have an assistant.’
I look down at my bag of belongings. It’s my turn to tut.
‘I didn’t think you’d want me to stay, not after what I’ve done. Or couldn’t do.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, not being able to get in the water.’
‘Actually,’ he says, ‘I think what you did was quite brave, considering you’re terrified of water. I did wonder why you never moved when we were turning the oyster sacks.’ And to my surprise he laughed, just a little one, and despite myself I can’t help but laugh too.
‘So, how long have you been this scared of water?’ Sean concentrates on the road. Somehow it’s easier to talk when you’re not looking each other in the eye.
‘Ever since Brian, my … ex,’ is the best way I can think of describing him. I don’t know if he’s my ex-boyfriend, my ex-fiancé or my ex-husband. ‘We went on a sailing holiday. Greek islands. Thought it might be, y’know, exciting. I’ve never been that good around water, not since I got swept under a wave on a beach in Folkestone when I was a kid. Some woman dragged me from the water. I just remember the white foam all around me and then gasping for air. The woman took me back to my mum. I was so relieved, but she was just cross. She was always cross with me. She was with some new fella and told me off for spoiling her afternoon.’ My throat tightens up and I have to swallow hard. Sean doesn’t say anything. I still remember the white foam swallowing me up.
‘Anyway, Brian was booking our holiday. It wasalways the same. Usually in the UK. He’d spend weeks planning a route, various walks we could do, historical sights, and pub grub in the evening. This one year, I thought we should try and do something different. So I booked the sailing holiday. We had two days of tuition and on the third day they told us to travel, as a group, to this next destination round the island.’ I sigh.
‘The long and short of it is, a storm got up. Brian was terrified and sat down in the galley. I tried to take down the sail but it jammed stuck and I couldn’t get it down. We were being blown further and further out to sea. Eventually a couple of guys from our group came to rescue us. They got us to shore and poured us large brandies. We decided to stay shore-bound from then on.’
I remember telling Brian afterwards, in a mad moment, that I thought we should give up the five-year plan, buy the flat, get engaged, get married and try for a family. I thought we should just go for what we wanted. Life was too short, anything could have happened. I remember how he looked at me, the lights going out in his eyes. I decided to play it safe from there on in. But things were never the same after that holiday.
