The rain came and followed him all the way home, but he didn’t mind. Rain was part of the deal out here. Besides, perhaps it was the rain that helped his oysters grow. One day he hoped everyone would know about his oysters, that they would be known as some of the best in the world, but first he had to get through his licence renewal in just a few weeks time. There was no way he could get the oysters ready for market, get the farm ready for the inspection and start his new job. This Fi was his only hope.
In the distance he could see his farm; his oyster beds would be starting to poke up through the water soon. He had to get a move on. He felt as he did every time he saw this place, like he was coming home, and he knew that he’d do whatever it took to save it.
As he reached the little wooden jetty the boat dipped and swayed. The heron landed on the gangplank and marched up and down, waiting for a treat to come his way. Sean pulled out his knife from his sleeve pocket, opened up an oyster from his red mesh bag, and tossed it to the heron. It clattered on the wet wood and the heron pecked greedily at it. ‘You lucky beggar,’ said Sean, and smiled.
There were lights on in the cottage, Sean noticed. The fire he’d stoked before he left was letting out little plumes of smoke from the metal pipe chimney. He might not know much about his new assistant, but she didn’t know much about him either. Maybe he hadn’t been mad to take her on; maybe it was just what he needed.
Having moored the boat, he picked up the red mesh bag. Let’s see if this woman really did know about oysters; it was a risk, but one he needed to take. He slung the bag over his shoulder and lit a cigarette,then began to make his way up the shore towards the cottage. It had been a long time since he’d come home to lights on and a lit fire.
Chapter Six
‘Damn it!’ I start grabbing at the coats and boxes that are blocking my path.
When I think the coat rack looks much the same as before, I stand up, pull on a coat and grab my bag, ready to make a run for it. Well, a hobble anyway.
Suddenly Grace jumps up from lying on the wooden floor beside me and barks madly. I jump and then freeze. He’s back.
The wooden door flies open.
‘Woohoo!’ He’s rubbing his hair and smiling like all his Christmases have come at once. He’s carrying a small red net bag over his shoulder. ‘That’s fresh out there. Do you not fancy a spin yourself, no?’ He points towards the sea.
I shake my head vigorously. It’s the very last place I plan to go. I’m on to him; he’ll get me in the boat and then onwards to who knows where …
‘No. No, thanks,’ I say firmly. ‘Actually …’
He’s pulling off his coat and going to stoke the fire.
‘Let me know if you fancy it.’ He puts more turf from the basket into the fire and shuts its doors. This must be the subtle approach to getting me on to the boat. Wonder what happens when that fails? Well, I won’t be here to find out.
‘Now, let’s have a coffee and sort out what needs doing round here.’ He turns to me, rubbing his hands, and then takes in the coat and my bag. My heart leaps into my mouth. I can practically see his good mood evaporating. Idon’t move or say anything. Finally he breaks the silence. ‘Had enough already?’ he says with the disappointment of a school teacher who had high hopes for his pupil.
‘It’s just …’ I falter, then find my backbone and hold my head up. ‘I’m not sure this is for me.’ I don’t know what’s going to happen next. It’s not like he’s going to offer me a lift to the railway station and I can’t run, not in these shoes. I have to persuade him just to let me leave.
‘I see.’ Sean turns away from me and back to the stove, opening it up and poking at the turf he’s just put in there. He throws in some more and then pulls a red cast-iron kettle onto the hot plate. ‘Well, it’s certainly not everyone’s cup of tea.’ There’s a hardness in his voice. It all feels a bit surreal, as if I’m turning down a perfectly normal job, not the chance to join his stable of prostitutes.
‘I’m sorry,’ I hear myself saying.
He sighs and shrugs.
I decide to take the bull by the horns. ‘Look, if you could just take me back to the town. I’ll never breathe a word of this, I promise.’
There’s a long silence in which the kettle comes to a cheery boil and he picks it up and goes to the kitchen area, looking for mugs. ‘Shame, I thought you were going to be the answer to my prayers.’ He finds two. ‘Then of course there’s Grace. I need someone to look after her.’ He looks at the dog and she wags her tail. Now that bit of the job I wouldn’t have minded.
‘Isn’t there someone from the town who could help you?’ I suggest helpfully.
‘I like to keep my business to myself. You’ve seen them. Bunch of busybodies. They’re only interested in passing on each other’s news, mostly bad. I like to keep my business and my life away from the town.’
I know why, I think to myself. There’s something unpredictable about his manner. I just want this to be over.I take a deep breath. ‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on here or where you planned to take me, but I’m a bit long in the tooth to be some kind of sex slave. Really, you’d hardly get anything for me. I’d be a terrible prostitute. I don’t even like holding hands in public. I’d be useless to you,’ I blurt out.
He stops pouring the hot water and turns and stares at me, mouth open. ‘What?’ he says, his dark eyes flashing. I take a step back and eye up the poker by the fire. ‘I haven’t a feckin’ clue what you’re on about, but I think its best that you go,’ he says angrily. He slams down the kettle. Then slowly turns back to me. His face begins to change, like he’s processing the information. ‘Oh my God, you think … you think …’ he repeats, pointing a finger at me. I’m feeling uncomfortable. Then to my amazement he starts to smile and then lets out a small chuckle. I’m flabbergasted that he could find this so funny. The chuckle grows until he throws back his head and laughs out loud. See, definitely unpredictable.
I look away, waiting for his hysteria to subside.
‘You thought I had a hooker, a prostitute.’ He clutches his sides and I begin to shift from foot to foot with frustration and embarrassment. I have a strange feeling this is not going the way I was expecting it to.
‘Well, that’s what you told me!’ I fold my arms across my body, indignant.
‘It’s a boat … s’called that.’ He grips his sides and can barely breathe. Every time he looks at me he bursts into laughter all over again.
