CHAPTER ONE
TAWRIEGUNN
MARCH2023
Tawrie Gunn wanted her situation to change and understood that it was she who needed to change it. With an itch to her spirit and a restlessness to her bones, it was time she faced up to the inaction that had led to this feeling of stagnation. It was born, no doubt, of living in the same town, in the same house and doing the same job since school.
It wasn’t so much that she was bored, rather she was curious about the world that everyone else returned to when they left her seaside haven. This curiosity was a fairly recent thing for her; she’d always assumed that because visitors were so keen to return to this little slice of North Devon, even shedding tears when they left, she must surely already be in the best place.
Standing at the foot of her bed, Tawrie rolled her shoulders and took deep breaths. She had seen athletes performing similar rituals prior to a big event so it felt awkwardly appropriate. In that moment she was rather glad of her single status, which left her freeto act a little oddly, chattering to herself and bending this way and that, safe in the knowledge that no one would barge in on her.
Today was the day. March the fourteenth to be precise. The day she had chosen to take the plunge.
‘You’re going to dowhat?’ her nan, Freda, had exclaimed when Tawrie had told her about her plan, pausing mid custard cream and screwing up her eyes, as she did when she wanted to hear better – as if her eyesight and less-than-perfect hearing were in some way connected.
‘Well, the simple answer is I’m going to swim! I’m going to swim and get better at swimming! That’s it!’ Tawrie flapped her arms and let them fall to her sides like a penguin.
‘Every day forhowlong?’ Freda needed this confirmed.
‘Every day between March and September. Or at least, that’s the idea.’ She pulled a face and tried not to think of all the reasons she might fail.
‘It’ll be a bit dark some mornings. Might even be raining.’ Her nan, as ever, sipped from the negative side of the cup.
‘Yes, and it’s not only the early start or the thought of rain that puts me off, or disrobing in public – not that there’ll be many people around at that hour – but also I know the water is going to be cold! So cold!’ She mock shivered inside her hoodie.
‘I’m not saying it’s abadidea ...’ Her nan paused in the way she did when she was about to do exactly that. ‘... but let’s face it, you’re not that keen on jumping in when the sun’s out, let alone at daybreak when even the spadgers are looking for a hat and scarf to ward off the chill! I mean, the summer will be all right, but March and September? No, thank you!’
‘Well, no disrespect, Nan, but I already figured you wouldn’t be joining me. And you’re right it might be a little—’
‘Seriously, Taw.’ Her mother, sitting at the kitchen table, abandoned her eyeliner, put down her magnifying mirror, tooka drag on her cigarette and joined the conversation. ‘What do you know about “winter swimming”, “wild swimming” or whatever else it is they want to call it? Makes me laugh.’ It was her mother’s turn to pause in the wayshedid before going on to trash an idea or topic that clearly didn’t make her laugh at all. ‘We’ve always just known it as taking a dip! Having a swim! I mean, seriously, when did it become a thing? Why do people have to hijack everything and try to make out they invented it? Why can’t people just swim quietly, privately, without announcing to all and sundry that they’re “wild swimmers” as if it’s a superpower? I mean, anyone can shove on a cossie and get in the bloody sea, it’s not that difficult. It’s the same with vegans and dyslexics; just get on with it! Don’t eat meat, don’t spell things right, but for the love of God, stop going on about it!’
Tawrie was trying to think how best to respond to her noxious diatribe when her nan cut in.
‘You’re not wrong about vegans. Everyone’s a vegan nowadays. Mrs Frinton was only telling me the other day when I saw her in Lidl that her daughter has just turned. The poor woman was all of a dither over what to put in her sandwiches. Although she’s still eating bacon at weekends, so it’s a bit easier.’
Tawrie opened her mouth to explain that anyone who ate pig at weekends was not vegan. Her mother, however, wasn’t finished.
‘And what does “wild swimmer” even mean? Are there tame swimmers too? What are they? Swimmers that don’t bite you or ransack your picnic basket before shitting on the shoreline?’ Annalee Gunn wheezed with laughter at her own joke. ‘Once upon a time we’d think folks needed their noggin looking at if they stripped off in winter, but now? It’s all the rage, apparently. I’m not trying to talk you out of it, but what in the name of Larry is it all about?’ Her mother’s response was no surprise: disparaging with a heavy peppering of sarcasm.
Tawrie stood her ground. ‘I read about it a while ago and I’ve seen a few people taking a dip, even in the rain. Apparently there are loads of benefits to getting into colder water: it raises your endorphins, improves circulation and can help ward off the winter blues, plus it’s a good way to burn calories. And I’d be happy with any of those right now.’
‘You feeling a bit low, little love?’ Her nan’s voice echoed with genuine concern.
Her mother had gone back to her eyeliner, while blowing cigarette smoke from the corner of her mouth. This was typical behaviour: spouting her piece before disengaging completely. The verbal equivalent of throwing a rock into a quiet pond and then legging it to avoid looking at the ripples as all the little fish and frogs ran for their lives. Or swam – swam for their lives.
A bit low ...How could she best explain it without giving her beloved nan any cause for concern? The truth was she wasn’t low exactly, certainly not depressed, but neither was she happy, nor excited, nor hopeful. No, low wasn’t accurate, she just wanted...more.
Tawrie found herself stuck in the middling lane of mediocrity, plodding, looking left and right without the first clue where or how to turn. Life at this stage was, for her, a little disappointing. Stuck in a familiar groove and aware that she’d left school, blinked, and suddenly she’d be turning twenty-eight next birthday.
She carried the nagging feeling that she was missing out. She had loved to study and never found her school work a chore. With good grades and a love of biology, she’d dreamed of becoming a midwife. But responsibilities and circumstances had conspired against her. Her cousin Connie had offered her a job in her café, only ever as a temporary measure, so she could be close to home. Now here she was, about to clock up a decade of service at the Caféon the Corner. Life had sidetracked her, and the fact that it was easy, familiar, meant she had seen no real reason to change. Until recently, when the walls that had kept her confined, safe, suddenly seemed a little oppressive and she was finally plucking up the courage to peer over them.
She’d watched enough clips of people in dry robes or with towels around their shoulders extolling the virtues of wild swimming to want to give it a go. She was envious of their rosy complexions and the smiles on their faces as their eyes danced lovingly over the water. Could it be that jumping in the Atlantic, which was right on her doorstep, was the solution? And how crackers would it be if it turned out that the answer to feeling like she was caught in the nets had been right there all along? She was at least willing to give it a go.
‘I just think it might be good for me.’
‘I don’t like the idea of you getting in the sea on your own, I really don’t. Can’t our Connie go down with you?’
Tawrie snorted her laughter at the very thought of her cousin agreeing to jump into the sea and ruin her make-up, or even give up sleep to watch Tawrie paddle. It wasn’t going to happen. Plus, and she wasn’t sure how to explain it without sounding a little mean, she liked the idea of making new friends, doing something that was only hers.
