Her anger crumpled and fell away, her face for one brief moment betraying her fear before she composed herself again. She nodded. ‘Of course he will.’
‘Remember the time he fell through the ice?’ Gray said quietly. ‘He can’t have been more than twelve years old.’
‘He was eleven,’ David said. ‘I remember because we’d just had my ninth birthday party the week before.’
‘Right. Eleven years old. I can still hear the crack the ice made when it broke. It was too early in winter. The ice looked solid enough, but it wasn’t.’
I felt my heart beat faster in my chest, even though I knew the story obviously had a happy ending. It made sense now, how sure Jonah was when we’d gone ice skating that the ice was thick enough. He’d learned from experience. ‘What happened?’
‘I was sixty feet away. Water that cold, most kids would have panicked. Flailed around and probably disappeared underneath the ice. Not Jonah.’ He shook his head. ‘That kid pulled himselfback up bit by bit. Didn’t try to stand. Spread himself flat and kept his weight even. Crawled back the way he’d come until the ice was strong again. I don’t know how he knew what to do; he just did.’ He looked me straight in the eyes. ‘Jonah knows how to listen to his body. To his surroundings. He’s going to come home.’
I nodded, feeling his reassurance wrap around my heart like a blanket. I clung to it, because even if it turned out to be unfounded hope, it was all I had.
They ordered drinks. I joined Sophie and David in a whiskey, hoping it would help settle my nerves. Jack brought out bowls of fries, garlic bread, but I had no appetite. The hours crawled by. Every time the bell above the door jangled we turned en masse, hoping it would be Jonah walking through the door, stomping snow off his boots and laughing, telling us about the wild ride he’d just had. But it never was. And every time the radio crackled to life the room fell silent as we held our breath and waited to hear their voices. But we never did. The disappointment weighed heavily on the room like a layer of smoke.
At one in the morning, with no news, Eleanor stood abruptly. ‘Let’s get you home,’ she said to Gray. ‘You’re still recovering. You need to rest.’
It was a sign of how tired he was that he didn’t argue, just got to his feet with help from David.
The bar crowd had gradually thinned out, as people had donned jackets, muttered goodnights and headed out into the cold.
‘We should go too,’ David told Sophie, helping his father into his jacket. ‘I don’t want Mom driving in this weather. We can run them home and bring them back into town tomorrow for their car.’
‘Yeah, that’s a good idea,’ Sophie agreed. She turned to me. ‘We can run you home too, Mae, if you like. Or you could comeand stay at ours if you don’t want to be alone. We have a spare bedroom.’
I was tempted. The thought of being alone with my fear and anxieties filled me with dread. But I figured, hoped, that the cottage might be the first place Jonah would go when he made it made back to shore. I needed to be there when he did.
‘Thank you,’ I told her gratefully. ‘But I’ll be OK. I want to be home in case he comes there. Will you let me know if you hear anything? Anything at all?’
‘Straight away.’
‘I trust you’ll do the same?’ Eleanor asked me, her voice stiff.
‘Of course.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you.’
Sophie kissed me on the cheek. ‘Drive safe, and text us if you change your mind or need anything.’
Her kindness and warmth were like a hug to my soul, and I felt tears well up. Eleanor paused, staring at me, her expression unreadable.
‘I know it’s easier said than done,’ she said. ‘But try not to worry. He’ll be home soon.’
I left a few minutes after them. Outside, the cold stung my cheeks, and the wind whipped my hair around my head as I hurried to my car. It was a slow drive back to the cottage. The wipers struggled to keep up with the torrential rain, and the headlights barely illuminated the road in front of me. I couldn’t imagine the conditions out on the open sea. Didn’t want to.
Back home, I changed into comfortable clothes and heated up a can of soup, but I had no appetite. I sat at the table by the window and watched as outside the storm raged.
38
JONAH
I woke up to Jim shaking my shoulder.
‘I need you to get up,’ he said in a low, steady voice. ‘Storm’s worsened.’
Pulled out of a deep sleep, it took me a few seconds to orient myself. I pushed myself up onto one elbow. Focused on his face. ‘How bad?’
‘One minute the wind was OK, moving us about sure, but nothing this boat hasn’t handled before. Next minute we’re being tossed around like a cork in a bathtub. Damn weather forecast undersold it, as usual.’
