The Chilling Tide

by T M Bashford

  You’re the one who dumped me.

  Is that what she thinks? But why?

  I figured she’d know I left Samoa because Brett told me the truth about their relationship. But there is no Brett and Shae. What did he tell her? Why does she think I left her in Samoa?

  When the starter gun goes off, I scan over the white sails which whizz and weave farther out of sight. The smaller they get, the smaller I feel.

  I sit frozen on the jetty, a victim of shock. The area clears out as family and friends head for the bar. I grapple with the strands of thoughts speeding through my brain and attempt to unravel them. It’s like trying to fly ten kites at once and not tangle them into one big heap before they fall out of the sky.

  Is this Brett’s grandest manipulation yet? Surely not even Brett would do something this awful to a best mate simply to win the girl. He’s competitive, but is he capable of being this cruel? Maybe he’d got to know her—had fallen for her. I’m struck by the memory of bumping into Shae at the pub and how I can still make her stop breathing.

  My phone rings, startling me. I almost hit the reject button, except it’s from Gavin.

  “Gavin. You have news?”

  “I do. I’m afraid all the documentation supplied in Lucas Cunningham’s claim has been authenticated. We can contest the exhumation of your father’s body, but it’s a long shot. A paternity test will certainly rule out his lawsuit if it’s negative, but if it’s positive, it could mean—well, we discussed this before you left. I understand you’re quite open to the idea of having a half-brother, but the implications for Vega Corp. and the people who work here, and for your own future. I suppose I’m phoning to ask if you want to fight this?”

  I jump to my feet and channel my inner warrior, striding up the jetty. First Brett tries to take Shae from me, now his half-brother is after my company and everything I own? What is it about this family? I also remember the vow I made to the universe that I’d take over the business if we made it back to Samoa safely. “Yes,” I say into the phone. “Fight it.”

  The idea of waiting for a taxi is impossible. Instead, I run back to my hotel. There, I search for Brett’s number in my cell. I refuse to wait a month to confirm Shae’s words. And I need to find out what he told her and why Shae thinks I left her in Samoa.

  Brett.

  I met Shae in Plymouth. She told me everything.

  Next, I book a flight to Los Angeles.

  Shae

  The race winner will complete the crossing in approximately eighteen days. I’ll be happy with between three and four weeks. I can do it if I sail through the night—I’m used to the lack of sleep. Finn reckons I stand a chance of winning because when I sailed Sassy, I reached Hawaii—a similar distance—in twenty-one days. Some take two months to reach Rhode Island, but I need to impress potential sponsors.

  There’s something beautiful about the line-up of yachts before a contest—the sound of the luffing canvas, the grins of each skipper, the shapes of the sails against the ultra-blue sky, like a hundred swans in formation. My first solo race. It feels right that I’m here, though Drew’s words haunt me.

  He’s always acted jealous when I mentioned Brett. When I first met Drew in Samoa, I asked about Brett simply to make conversation. It’s true I brought him up too much, but then Brett attacked me. How can Drew believe anything could happen between me and Brett after that? Maybe when he discovered we spent weeks together in Samoa, he became bitter and covetous and decided something must’ve developed between us. How many times do I need to tell him I have no interest in Brett? And if Drew dumped me on a mere hunch… well, that’s callous. Why didn’t he simply ask me?

  The megaphone blasts instructions. “Fifty seconds to start.” Everyone jumps around their boats, jostling to stay in the best position. They count down from ten seconds.

  Within a minute of the starter gun firing, a Corby yacht called Tatum II diverts directly into my path and we both jump to keep clear of each other as we make for the breakwater.

  The skipper, Colin, I believe, raises his hand and shouts, “Sorry, Shae.” I wave off his apology. There’s a great atmosphere out here—everyone’s cool and not overly dog-eat-dog. I should study the race information and memorize who’s on which boat.

  During the first few hours, I settle into a position somewhere in the middle of the pack. We whoop and share shouted conversation, exhilaration causing our spirits to soar. With an eighteen-knot wind, the competitors are flying along steadily. As the day dies, we separate though, many of the yachts choosing different routes, some more northerly, some southerly. By tomorrow morning, I’ll be on my own, without another boat in sight.

  I sail aggressively until sundown, my eyes giving me trouble again. They hurt when I move them, and my vision isn’t as sharp. The hospital hadn’t mentioned I’d have this problem, but I have to believe it’ll pass. It’s tiring me out more than normal though, and I set up the autopilot so I can cook dinner.

  It’s the first time I let myself think about Drew again. I recall his pulled apart expression, his final words. “You fell for my best friend...” I guess it didn’t look great when Brett relocated to LA, but I couldn’t stop him, and how does that mean I fell for him? I’m too exhausted to make any sense of what Drew said, and I head for my bunk, setting the alarm for every thirty minutes to perform checks.

  We progress steadily through the thick gloss of night. The stars are tiny chips of light and Gambit’s sails are ghost-like against the dark backdrop. I listen to the familiar sounds and feel more myself.

  When I wake in the silvery dawn glow, the choppy sea resembles scrunched up glittering tin foil reflecting the sun. There’s a problem with a line on the boom and I must climb out onto the end of it to replace a rope. It’s exhausting as I cling on. I’m not as fit as I was when I made the last crossing, and I’m already craving a hot shower and a freshly cooked meal. I’m going soft. The cold dampens my spirits and seeing Drew again has its own weakening effect. I continue to crave him and want to be with him. I hadn’t moved on at all. But I can’t let myself wane. Even if he does still love me, even if he realized leaving me in Samoa was the worst mistake of his life, I can never trust him with my heart again. It doesn’t matter how I feel or how he feels. Love is not for me. Look what happened with me and Connor—and my mom and dad.

  Next, because there is always something to fix on boats, the leech is fluttering too much. It could shred the mainsail. I head to the front of the main to tighten the leech line. Each time I solve a problem, I become stronger, back in my element. Back where I belong.

  The rest of the day is unspoiled as Gambit and I skim across the Atlantic. Having an autopilot is a luxury I never had before. It means I can keep racing while preparing food or completing small repairs without having to set up a mechanical wind vane. Competing in a boat I’m unfamiliar with is risky, though. I don’t recognize her various noises yet and can’t always discern what she’s trying to tell me. Consequently, I keep repeating checks to ensure everything’s as it should be until we learn to communicate.

  On the second day, Mom and Brody call me on the sat phone—another luxury I’ve never had. They’re buoyant with excitement, alongside an undercurrent of worry. Brody informs me of a weather warning. He’s tracking both me and the weather radar. Later, Ryan calls to chat and to answer any questions I have about the boat. His voice is full of longing, revealing his wishes that he was here instead of me.

  “Before you go,” he says. “Brett’s been waiting here since yesterday to talk.”

  Annoyance ripples through me. Brett must’ve got Ryan’s details from Emily. He always goes too far. When I return to LA, we will have a serious discussion. He needs to back off.

  “Sorry, Ryan. I hope he’s not annoying you. But I have to go now. Tell Brett I’ll see him when I finish the race.”

  In the background, I overhear the grumbling sound of Brett’s angry response.

  Drew

  The next morning, I drive to
Heathrow airport, music blasting. I sing and thump my fingers against the steering wheel to distract myself from the roiling anger inside me. The flight is non-stop, and I spend the entire twelve hours staring out of the window at the blue sky and stiff clouds or at the ocean below. Knowing Shae is below me, crossing the Atlantic, dislocates my brain—is it possible she could look up and see me flying overhead?

  I’m going to sort this out once and for all. I’ll confront Brett and insist on the truth. If he’s done what I think he has... I swallow hard and push back at the rising fury. The knowledge he’s lied to me, that he’s caused this rift between me and Shae, has ignited a seething ball of fire inside me. If only I’d gone to the hotel in Samoa with Shae instead of visiting Brett on Sassy, but I was putting off a confrontation with her family. I admit that now. Finn had confirmed Kathleen was seriously angry that I’d dragged him, and then Shae, into the situation with Eddie. Avoiding confrontations has always made everything worse—look where it got me with my father. We had no relationship for years because I avoided tackling the issues between us—I even escaped to Samoa to evade him.

  I have no idea where Brett lives in LA—or Shae. I drive to the UCLA campus and I’m forced to wait on a wall by a fountain in hope of spotting him. But there’s no sign of him and I have to give up and book a room at the Beverly Hills Hilton. It conjures memories of how I flew into LA to surprise Shae after she was acquitted of the charges connected to Connor Stratton. It had been an amazing night and we made love for the first time in a bed, rather than on Sassy. But nothing has gone right since. My father died, and Shae took off to Samoa on Ariel, then ran off to LA with Brett.

  The next day I wander the campus again. It’s huge though, and Brett could be anywhere. I target the faculty of law and sit on the stairs at the entrance to the red brick building. I consider finding an admin office to ask where he lives but I’m guessing they won’t give out private information to a complete stranger.

  While I wait, I remember how Shae had once expressed her confusion, wondering why I hadn’t confronted Brett after he attacked her on the beach. I wasn’t able to properly explain it to her then, except that I felt sorry for him after what he went through with the kidnapping and his father not paying the ransom. I’d made allowances for him for years because of it—letting him do as he pleased, covering for his drinking and drugs, permitting him to muscle in on the girls I was keen on, even taking the rap for his shoplifting once. The confrontation about to take place should’ve happened years ago. Finally, I’m ready for it.

  The whole time I’m waiting, Lucas Cunningham sits in the rear of my mind like a toad in a dark room. Should I tell Brett he has a half-brother? If Lucas does receive half of my inheritance, where does that leave Brett? Nowhere, I guess, unless he joins forces with Lucas—who knows what they’d do. Take over the company? Brett was willing to turn Shae over to the police to collect the reward... he would do anything to ensure he is no longer dependent on his father for financial security.

  I march across the campus again, determined to stay as long as it takes to find Brett. The grounds are spotted with seemingly ancient trees and the neatly clipped lawns invite you to rest. Mature green vines grow up the sides of buildings and groups of students criss-cross en route to somewhere. I’m about to start climbing a three-flight set of stairs in the gardens when I spot him. He’s near the top, lightly descending each step as he’s done every day for months.

  The rage pulsing through me is ferocious, and I’m glad he’s at the top. I take in deep breaths to calm myself. My body crackles, a lit firecracker. When he drops down the last few stairs, I finally blow and pile into him, scrunching his shirt in my fist, shoving until he trips backward onto the steps. He grunts in surprise, his hands moving to stop his fall as I punch him and pull myself upright. He rolls onto his front, holding his jaw and daring to peer at me from his position sprawled on the ground.

  “Drew. Friggin’ hell, take it easy.” His words infuriate me further and I close in on him. He jumps up, a few steps higher than me, palms outstretched. “Calm down. We can talk.”

  “What’s there to talk about? You lied. You didn’t think about her when you lied. You hurt her. How could you do that to her… to me?” Spit flies from my mouth and rage builds and builds.

  He hovers above me and wipes his hand across his bloody nose. “I fell in love with her, mate. What can I say? And I did believe you guys were over. By the time I found out you were coming for her it was too late.”

  “No way, Brett. That’s not good enough. She told me you were friends and there is no relationship. You told me a very different story. You said you’d slept together and that she told you she loved you. You sent me emails leading me to believe you were living together.”

  His face contorts. “Did she say we were just friends?”

  “You got rid of me and hoped she’d turn to you instead? If you really loved her, you wouldn’t have done something so awful to her. What did you tell her? She must have wanted to know why I left her in Samoa?”

  Brett unexpectedly sits on a step, hanging his head.

  “What did you tell her?”

  “Does it matter? Nothing ever happened between us, not even a kiss.”

  “Then was it you who wrote all over my sketches and stabbed them with a pencil?”

  “That actually was Shae.”

  “Oh.” My heart sinks like when Sassy dropped down the front of a huge wave. “I don’t understand. She thought those things she wrote?”

  “She wrecked the sketches the day she saw you with Ava. The day she sailed out of Sydney Harbor. That’s the truth.”

  His words are a salve to my anger. “Jeez, Brett. I’ve been trying to make sense of this for months. None of it hung together and you’re the reason. You and your lies.” I slump, exhausted. I had barely slept during the last few days. “Just tell me… put me out of my misery. Why does she think I left her in Samoa?”

  We’ve attracted a crowd and they observe us from a few meters away. Brett pastes on a grin and waves.

  “Everything okay, Brett?” a guy in a UCLA tracksuit top asks.

  Brett stands slowly as if his legs might give way. “Yeah, it’s cool, Neil. Thanks.” He steps down the stairs and walks past me. “Come on. Unless you want an audience.”

  I follow, again pushing back the ferocious heat inside me. We stride side by side, saying nothing. When we reach a deserted café, Brett sinks into a chair at one of the outside tables. I sit opposite him as he rubs at his eyebrows roughly, then wipes a palm over his cheek, now pink and slightly swollen.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. He flexes his jaw, checking it works. “It was a spur of the moment thing. I didn’t plan it—the lies. When you told me she hadn’t agreed to marry you, it seemed like my last chance to have her. Or I convinced myself I had a chance. I love her, Drew.” He lifts his gaze to me. The painful truth is right there. “I couldn’t imagine life without her. So, I lied to you and I told her...”

  He grips the arms of the chair, his wounded eyes sweeping the area behind me.

  “What did you tell her?”

  “That you were angry she hadn’t said yes to your proposal straight away.”

  My body lurches upright and I lunge across the table at him. He stands so I can’t reach him. I stride around the table, throwing his chair aside. We square up.

  “What’s your problem?” he yells. “You’ve won, haven’t you?”

  “This isn’t some competition, Brett. It’s my life. It’s Shae’s life and you’ve...”

  The surge of fury that engulfs me could lead to trouble, to being arrested. He’s confirmed what I needed to know. I want to hurt him like he’s hurt me, but it’s not going to change anything, and no amount of fighting will hurt him enough.

  When I walk away, I hear his following footsteps, but I step up my pace.

  “Drew. Wait. I’m sorry, yeah. Love makes us do crazy things, doesn’t it?”

  I swing around to face him. He ha
lts, keeping his distance. I stab my finger at him. “Never come near me again. Never call, never email.” His expression spins from defensive to surprised.

  “Come on, Drew. We can move past this. Twenty years of friendship.”

  This time I can’t help myself and I’m in his face, fisting his shirt. “We will never get past this.” I shove him.

  Shae thinks I dumped her because she didn’t accept my proposal!

  “And I’m going to tell Shae the truth. She’s never going to want to see you again.”

  I ignore Brett’s final parting shot. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, mate.”

  At my hotel, I read a text message from my PA asking if I’ll be returning to the office soon. Instead of replying, I book a flight to Newport, Rhode Island.

  Shae

  Today the sky is peppered with black puffs of cloud. Behind them, the sun trims their edges in effervescent light. It feels unreal, like sailing inside a painting. It’s my fifth day, and the Atlantic and I remain friends. She was mutinous overnight, but the clouds have nurtured her into liquid mercury. My only real concern is the pain in the back of my eyes, especially bad when I’m puffed out. Sometimes my vision seems off and the bright blue of the scenery becomes covered in a film of gray. I’m also getting headaches. I suppose the drug that spiked my drink is still having an effect.

  Half a dozen pods of dolphins have just finished entertaining me and gone to find someone else to play with. I settle onto some cushions and bathe in the peace. Occasionally, the ocean fills with crystallized light. It’s as if the sun has swooped down and is swimming in it. My hair streams behind me, my scrunchie lost once again. I spend these times planning my solo campaign. I make list after list, and I imagine what it’ll be like to be alone, without human contact for nine months or more. It doesn’t scare me one bit. I crave the solitude and the haven of the ocean. I especially love twilight when the world turns golden just moments before the sun winks goodbye, and I’m in a people-less place beyond the sunset.