“Her husband comes in here for a drink occasionally at weekends. Spends most of it on the phone wheeling and dealing. Rich city type. He’ll probably give you a reward.”
“The only thing I want is for my headache to go away.”
She saw him raise an eyebrow and knew he was thinking of the night before. And she was thinking of it too, even though she was trying not to.
“Get in the shower, Abby,” he muttered. “You’re freezing.”
She threw her damp sweatshirt over the chair. “I will. When you’ve gone.”
He hesitated. “Okay. I’m going to get you a bowl of soup. I’ll be back.”
“Don’t bother.” But she was talking to herself because he’d already left the room.
Too tired to care too much what he thought about her, she undressed. She was tempted to flop onto the bed and skip the shower part, but he was right about her being cold.
She needed that hot shower.
She stripped off and headed to the bathroom. It was already steamy and she stepped into the shower and closed her eyes. Instantly her head was filled with images. The mother screaming. The flash of pink. She kept visualising a scenario where she hadn’t been able to find the child. And another where the child couldn’t be resuscitated.
Trying to block it out, she shampooed her hair to remove the salt and seawater and stood under the hot jet of water for another five minutes.
“Abby?” His voice came through the door and she sighed and turned off the water.
He was persistent, she had to give him that.
“I’m fine.” She dried herself and rubbed at her hair, then pulled on the white dressing gown that hung on the back of the door, taking her time in the hope that he’d be gone by the time she came out.
No such luck.
When she stepped out of the bathroom Tristan was standing by her little table, unloading food from a tray.
“I brought you a small bowl of soup, and some toast. Did you swallow a lot of seawater?”
“Some.” She sat down at the table. “I’m not hungry. I just want to sleep.”
“Just a few mouthfuls.”
Deciding that the sooner she ate something, the sooner he’d be gone, she picked up the spoon but her hand was shaking badly and she put it down again.
“I keep reliving it,” she muttered. “I couldn’t see her at first. Couldn’t find her. There was a flash of pink and then nothing. And the waves were getting bigger and she was so tiny—” Her voice broke. “It would make me happy if you’d leave me alone.”
“Why would I want to make you happy? Turns out I like annoying you.” His voice was rough. “Thanks to you the whole incident had a happy ending. Try and focus on that.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks and she covered her face with her hands.
“What if I hadn’t decided to go for a swim? It was a last-minute decision.” She was sure the two teenage boys wouldn’t even have noticed what had happened.
He gave a soft curse and pulled her into his arms.
She tensed for a moment and then buried her face in his shoulder. “If you tell anyone you saw me cry, I’ll kill you.”
“Why? You’ve had a pretty traumatic couple of hours. What’s wrong with showing emotion?”
She knew she should pull away but his shirt was soft, he smelled delicious and for a moment it felt good to lean on someone.
“It’s not something I do, that’s all.”
“Another first.”
