I have a sudden urge to hear Mum’s voice. I want to tell her I love her while I still can, before time runs out. I dial her number and listen as the phone rings. I’m about to hang up when she answers.
‘Hello, love. Everything OK?’
‘Yes, all good.’ There’s a distinct wobble to my voice. ‘Mum, I want to say sorry for how I acted back then.’
She knows exactly what I’m talking about. ‘Is that what’s bothering you? Don’t be silly. It was your way of coping. I never blamed you.’ She pauses. ‘Don’t be living in the past, love. Look forward.’
My fingers are aching from gripping my bike handles.
When I don’t reply, Mum asks, ‘Is anything else bothering you?’
‘I’ve had to close the café.’ My voice breaks, but I plough on. ‘I couldn’t keep it going. Will you tell Dad? I don’t think I can.’
There’s a slight hesitation before she answers. ‘If you want me to. You are looking after yourself, aren’t you? Do you need anything?’
‘I’ll be fine, Mum. Thanks. I love you.’
‘I love you too, love.’
I click the phone off and push it back into my bag, out of sight, wishing I could bury everything else so easily.
I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. Time passes in a daze and before I know it, I’m back at home. I park my bike and put my key in the front door, then stop. The thought of going in and staring at the walls makes my skin itch. On impulse, I open the door and sling my bag through it. Then shove my key back in my pocket and head towards the beach.
Unusually, the air is perfectly still and there are fluffy cotton wool clouds hovering across the picture-perfect cornflower-blue sky. I walk past a couple of preschool kids with their mum throwing a bright pink-and-yellow beach ball to each other and giggling when it hits their heads and bounces off down the beach. Their free and easy frivolity bites hard. Tears spring to my eyes and without thinking, I tip my head back and let out a shout almost as if my wail will let all my hurt, guilt and fear out into the world, freeing me.
The laughing behind me stops and I swing around to find the kids and their mum staring at me. Embarrassed, I mumble ‘Sorry,’ and put my head down to continue walking.
The loose sand near the dunes feels too safe. Too familiar. I walk on the diagonal until I’m walking on the firm sand near the water’s edge. Even that’s not dangerous enough. I stop to take off my shoes and socks, then tie the laces in a knot and sling them around my neck. The sand is damp and gritty beneath my bare feet. My toes curl up as I walk, digging an imprint into the beach. A wave rolls all the way up to me and I stop dead. My throat constricts as the cold water covers my toes. I can’t move again until the water’s withdrawn.
I watch, mesmerised, as the next wave breaks and heads in my direction. The urge to step backwards is huge, but I forcemyself to stay put. The sea water runs around my feet and splashes at my ankle bones. It’s cold and tingly and the sensation of the sand disintegrating as the waves withdraws is weird. As the sea retreats, I walk forwards a few more steps. I need the water to go higher. I need to drown out all the voices in my head. To only have the terrifying water to think about and have no gap in my head to think about anything else.
A new wave is coming, its foamy white top rising until it breaks and rushes towards me. I take two bold big steps towards it. I can feel my sharp intake of breath all the way down my windpipe as the cold water dances around my calves. My heart is thudding in my chest and I close my fists tight to stop myself from fleeing. The wave is sucked back and it pulls me forwards with it. The next wave swirls below my knees, splashing up onto my hands.
‘I’m impressed.’ Jackson’s voice gives me a fright and my surroundings come into full focus.
What the hell am I doing?
I dash back towards the dunes and Jackson, a wave chasing me to the shore. He’s standing out of reach of the water, Tippi on a brown leather lead next to him.
‘Hi.’
He acknowledges me with a nod, his eyes catching mine, and my whole body tightens at his proximity. Even with everything coursing through me, he still manages to make me feel like an awkward, horny teenager.
‘I’m getting the hang of it. Slowly.’ I wiggle my toes in the mushy sand the wave has left behind and look down towards the little terrier at his feet. ‘Tippi looks happy.’
He waves the brown leather lead Tippi is attached to. ‘If I didn’t have her on this, she’d be diving into the sea. I’ve already had to stop her once.’
Tippi looks up at him as if she understands every word. Anincoming wave takes me by surprise and I suck in a lungful of air as the cold sea water rushes up my leg. Tippi has no such qualms and takes a couple of steps forwards, straining on her lead. Jackson gives a gentle chuckle. ‘Come here, you rascal. You are not ready to tackle the sea yet. All in good time.’ The little dog ignores him and continues to pull.
‘You’d think she always had three legs,’ I say, still marvelling at how Tippi is totally at ease. ‘I don’t think I’d be in such a hurry to get back in the sea.’
‘She’s a tough nut and the vet’s happy with how it’s healing. She’ll be back swimming before she knows it.’
Without saying anything, we both turn and fall into step alongside each other. I stay on the drier sand and Tippi paddles through the remnants of the incoming waves with Jackson between us.
‘Thanks for looking after Mum. She said you made soup.’
My body is racked with tension strolling alongside him, but I keep my tone neutral. ‘I thought it might be easier to eat.’
