We laugh, and I kiss her on the cheek.
I go downstairs with a heavy heart. To distract myself from worrying about Aunt Polly, I tackle the pile of laundry, clean the kitchen, and water all her plants on the patio. I’m about to tidy her living room when I catch sight of the swimming cap sticking out of my handbag. Something inside me shifts. I can hear Oliver talking about healing and I recall parts of Margo’s excellent book. The urge to get into the water is strong.
‘I’m just popping out,’ I shout up the stairs to Aunt Polly.
Before I leave, I put my new costume on under my clothes and grab a towel.
Time slows down as I hurry to the beach. I dump my clothes behind a rock and find a quiet spot to enter the water.
Waves rush over to say hello as I step in. My heart is hammering inside my chest. Will it bring back painful memories of Mum? The water is cold, but it’s not freezing. Am I brave enough to do this? A little voice from deep inside me answers. It says yes, and this was what Mum wanted me to do.
Once fully submerged, I lie back in the water and float. The sea nurses me. Its waves massage my legs and arms. Even the coldness has a therapeutic quality. For a long time, I let it carry me. The sky above me is a cloudless blue, and the sun’s golden rays dance on top of the water.
This is heavenly. The water and I greet each other like we’re old friends. I can be alone here. There’s no pressure to explain myself, to talk about my curse or question why it exists. Whatever happens in my life, I will always have the water as a friend.
I feel liberated from my worries about Aunt Polly, my curse and my thoughts about Oliver.
31
When I get home, the flat is empty apart from Lenny. Oliver must be out. I’m looking forward to another night of sharing a bed with him. I want to tell him about my swim. I wish I could say that after my unexpected dip in the sea, all my worries were washed away, and when I emerged, I gained a new perspective on life. However, that’s not what happened. I was so cold that I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering; it took me over an hour to warm up, and every part of me ached. As I trudged back to Aunt Polly’s, my shoes squelched and I questioned whether going swimming had done me any good. What I didn’t expect was Aunt Polly’s reaction when I told her. She pulled back her bed covers, hauled herself up and pulled me into the biggest hug ever. As the padlock vision returned and my world became muffled, I let my body relax in her warm embrace. ‘Nelly,’ she said when sound had returned, ‘I am so proud of you for doing that. This is the first step towards healing.’
I noted the return of that word.
By the time I go to bed, Oliver still isn’t back. I lie on my side of the pillow wall and wonder whether he’ll break our agreement of not waking me up. My heart aches at the thought. I try to stay awake for as long as possible. Eventually, sleep finds me.
In the morning, when I wake, his side is empty.
My mind begins to consider possible reasons why he didn’t come home. Maybe he met someone and went home with her. Maybe Rory’s sister made a reappearance. This unsettles me. I tell myself that Oliver is a single man, and he can do whatever he wants. Just because we happen to have a bizarre bed-sharing agreement doesn’t mean he has to live the life of a monk.
I get up and get myself ready for work.
On the way to the bookshop, I look for a suitable song to soothe my anxious mind – the trouble is, there are zero songs about sharing a bed with your handsome male flatmate due to a plumbing leak – while also wondering, purely hypothetically of course, if he’s seeing other women.
‘Hello, Nelly,’ says a familiar male voice. The bookshop has been quiet. Miranda is coming in later after she’s talked to Frank, so I am sneakily trying to finish Margo’s book behind the counter. I look up to see Ben, Amber’s father, standing by the till.
Ben has always looked as if he has been carved straight out of the wild. He’s built like he could lift a fallen tree and yet possesses a surprising gentleness. Kate used to say that her husband talks to trees as if they were old friends. He’s been known to talk terrified cats down from the highest branches, which always earns him a tick in my book.
‘Do you have any maths books for primary school kids?’
I go to show him where the educational section is. I’m about to step out from behind the counter when the doorbell jangles and in walks Alice. She’s wearing wide-legged denim jeans, a white T-shirt and sunglasses perched on the top of her head.
I glance at Alice and then at Ben, who looks mesmerised by her. It’s like he’s witnessing a miracle unfolding before his eyes.
‘Do you want to follow me?’
He’s still staring at Alice, and she’s gazing longingly at his giant forearms, built through years of scaling trees.
‘Earth to?—’
‘Uh… Oh yes. I need a maths book for an eight-year-old boy who doesn’t like maths.’
Alice hears this and giggles at Ben. ‘That’s a tall order.’
He smiles and gestures to me. ‘I have faith in Nelly.’
‘Do you want me to show you where the educational books are?’
Ben nods. As we walk past Alice, she grins. ‘Good luck.’
