‘Here I am.’
He walked straight to the French doors, standing in the dying light as if disinterested in her scribbling – or unnoticing. Either way she felt a flush of relief. Her writing was not something she intended to share.
Ever.
‘It’s a beautiful evening, the sky is on fire.’
‘Do you think we’ll ever get sick of it, take the view for granted?’ She stood, placed the book on the lamp table and came to rest behind him, standing so close she could smell the end-of-day sweat mixed with his cologne. He reached back and pulled her arm over his shoulder, kissing her fingers and holding her hand inside his, knitted over his heart as they stared at the sunset.
‘How could we ever take it for granted? It’s beautiful and different every time. What could possibly spoil such a majestic moment?’
‘Mmm.’
She made the noise, not wanting to risk talking or giving free rein to the tears that threatened. How could he possibly know that in that second, as she stared at the pale stripe of his cotton shirt and wondered if this was one he’d worn when he was withher– the woman who had taken a scythe to all Harriet had thought was secure – the moment was entirely spoiled for her?
Her thoughts returned as they often did to that sunny May evening as blossom lay on the ground.
‘Are you ...’ She had swallowed, feeling ridiculously awkward, foolish even in having to ask. ‘Are you having an affair?’
His reply had been instant, insistent, strong in the denial. ‘What a bloody ridiculous thing to say to me! No!’
‘I need to know who you were on the phone to.’ Her voice quieter this time, not so confident in the face of his absolute denial.
‘I ...’ His lips had turned bloodless and nerves instantly made his face shiny.
Her thoughts returned to this point often, that moment when her marriage, her life, had begun to unravel.
CHAPTER THREE
TAWRIEGUNN
AUGUST2024
It was just over seventeen months since Tawrie Gunn had become a fully fledged member of the Peacock Swimmers, and it would be accurate to say she was at one with the sea. It felt like a secret, this relationship she shared with the ocean. The pure exhilaration, the joy felt like a gift from mother nature to her. Time lost meaning with every moment she spent as a guest in its watery embrace. Worries evaporated in a floating pool of endless possibilities. It was a carefree world where the many constrictions of daily life did not apply. Another dimension, where those within it wore different clothes, made different movements, existed in a different temperature, and felt unique sensations. A soft, fluid environment that held her fast while setting her free. A topsy-turvy place where sounds echoed, the world’s noise softened and instead of big slabs of sky above there were deep, invisible depths below.
‘Here I am, Dad,’ she would whisper into the fathoms and smile at the feel of the water’s response, knocking her shoulders andtickling her neck. ‘Here I am. So what’s my news? Not much to tell today really. I slept well. The busier we are in the café the better I sleep. There’s something about slipping between the sheets with aching limbs and weary bones that makes the sleep even sweeter. As if I’ve earned it. And other than that? As I say, not much to tell ...’
It felt easy to talk to him out here in the sea. No threat of being overheard by her relatives, no other chore calling for her attention. And it was no surprise that here in the water where he’d lost his life, she felt closest to him. Even on the coldest of days, the shiver in her bones shook off any malaise, dispersed her thought-fog and left her with a singular clarity of mind that was as good as a mental reset. And on the warmer days, there was nowhere else on earth she would rather be. She knew that nearly three-quarters of the world was covered in water and yet as she took a deep breath and immersed her body in the salty blue, this tiny bit of it felt like hers alone. This cool sea coaxed her thoughts, caressed her limbs and urged her on silently from its depths ... the message always:
‘You’ve got this, Tawrie Gunn, everything is going to be okay.’
They were a curious trio, Maudie, Jago and her. On some days they were silent, as if bowed by the majesty of the rising sun and the water before them. Silently swimming, close enough and yet in their own worlds, almost in reverence to the act that bound them.
When they left the water, however, that was when the gang came together, chattering through the shivering after-drop as their bodies cooled, comparing notes, sharing any glorious experiences that ranged from the interest of a nosey seal to the sighting of a cumbersome piece of driftwood that for a split second, out of the corner of Jago’s eye, took on all the characteristics of a crocodile. She liked to sit with them on the rocks that edged the bay, enjoyed their ribbing, their comedy and the snippets of their everyday life. Married for an unfathomable sixty-eight years, it fascinated her how they had morphed into one entity: walking in unison, pausingto allow the other to catch up and donning their wetsuits every morning to climb into the sea. Time spent in their company both gladdened and saddened her. It made her see that it was possible to find someone and live a happy life and yet it felt as out of reach for her as it always had. She knew practically everyone there was to know in the town but without a wider social network it was hard to meet new people. This, in no small part, was behind her motivation to start swimming, and not that she didn’t adore Maudie and Jago, but it wasn’t quite the gang she’d imagined.
‘That was a tad chilly!’ Maudie reached for her towel, while with the other hand she rubbed her stomach.
‘Are you okay, Maudie?’ She felt the familiar flicker of concern, aware of the age of her fellow swimmers, although their fitness was astounding.
‘Yes, it’ll pass. Period pain.’ Maudie pulled a face.
‘Period pain?’ She must have misheard.
‘Of course not, you daft thing! I’m eighty-bloody-six! I hurt because I’m eighty-bloody-six!’
Tawrie laughed loud and hard as she dried her hair and pulled on her thick socks.
‘What’s she on about?’ Jago sat down hard on a flat rock and caught his breath.
