Endless Blue Seas

by Annie Dyer

  “Tell me about that night. Tell me about Ryan.”

  I froze. No one had been so blunt apart from a therapist whose office I’d walked out of straight after she’d asked me a similar question. I wasn’t walking away from Anya, or even letting her go right now.

  “He was a character. He was a bit shorter than me and always had this really neat hair cut that he had trimmed every week. I used to take the piss out of it. He was always in a suit with a waistcoat. We nicknamed him Gandy.”

  “After the model?”

  “Hmmm.” I nuzzled her hair. “He was always dating someone and I don’t think he ever went home alone.”

  “Somehow I suspect that you were the same.”

  “Kind of. But nowhere near like him. He was the same at university. Practically had a fan club.”

  “Why did he become an architect?”

  “He liked making models. As part of the degree, you end up making shit tons of scale models and he was really into that as a kid. I suppose we all were, but he got really geeky over it. And he was obsessed with old buildings. We went into a night club in Manchester once and he spent the evening obsessing over period features.”

  “What did you do?”

  I’d fucked a girl in the toilets. It was during my manwhore phase, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “Left him to it.”

  “Otherwise occupied?”

  “Let’s leave it at that.”

  She giggled and kissed me again. “What were the awards for that night?”

  My head went straight back there, flashbacks that were always there, mosquitoes in my mind waiting to draw blood. “He won one for a building he’d restored in the city centre. It was his pet project and had shit loads of publicity. He was brilliant, but he was modest. His speech was all about the other people who had been involved and the original designer.”

  “What about yours?”

  My award was now in the bottom of a canal.

  “Sustainability. Second year in a row I’d won it. Ryan gave me the loudest cheer.”

  “Did you take dates?”

  “Just each other. We tried to keep work separate, and Ryan would’ve looked a total tool taking a different woman to each event. He was seeing someone though.” I thought of Adele. She sent me texts most weeks, sometimes pictures of him. I knew she was clinging to me to keep his memory of him alive in her, but I knew that he was going to end it, even though they were as together as Ryan had been with a woman. I told Anya as much.

  “You can’t tell her that.”

  “I know. It would be cruel.”

  “But you can ask her to stop messaging you. When someone dies it affects everyone in different ways. And no one should have the pressure of being someone’s crutch.”

  “Is that what your therapist told you?” I moved a hand to run my fingers through her hair.

  “No. Nan told me that. Ryan’s girlfriend isn’t your responsibility. What happened after the awards?”

  I kissed her collarbone and she tipped her head to one side to give me room to kiss her neck. Talking about this wasn’t something I’d done. There hadn’t been anyone who needed to know about those last minutes of Ryan’s life or how it had felt in that split second before the car had hit us. I’d wanted to protect others from it, keep them away from the fracturing of their fucking hearts.

  “I was driving. I was always the driver. He wanted one for the road, a whisky sour, which I moaned about so he downed it quickly. He was half asleep in the car on the way back.” There were no lights on the road, a dual carriageway that was always quiet at that time. I’d had the radio on, playing nineties indie music and the window open to let cool air in. I wasn’t tired as I’d had a late start before walking a property near to where I lived.

  I saw the car at the point where the dual carriageway became single. I remembered blinking, thinking I was getting a migraine for the first time in my life because I knew people could see lights, only these were flashing. I swerved to try to get out of the way when I realized it was another vehicle but it was too late. He was going way above the speed limit and he caught me anyway, the car a pirouetting dancer in her swansong. Ryan was woken up by the impact and I recalled his scream, ear piercing and hellish and then he went quiet.

  When I looked at him, we were upside down and he wasn’t the same person I’d gotten into the car with.

  I rested my chin on her shoulder and listened to her breathing. She was tucked into me, having listened without commenting or asking more questions. It was the first time I’d told anyone what had happened from the elation we’d felt at winning our awards through to opening my eyes with my heart thudding out of my ears and finding the world fractured into too many pieces to save.

  “I was told it was quick. But they would say that, wouldn’t they?”

  “Yes. They would. But I don’t think they were lying. Was it his scream you heard or your own?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, wanting to say that it was his scream, but I didn’t know. He’d been asleep. The headlights coming towards us had been a blur, my reactions fast as I hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, not even the champagne.

  “I always thought it was his.”

  “Gabe, I’m not a doctor or anywhere near a forensics person, but even if he had woken up when you swerved, would he have been awake and aware that quickly to scream?”

  “We’ll never know.” It was the first time I’d thought about the noise coming from me and not him. The first time I had considered the chance that he’d never woken up and never knew what was happening. It could’ve been my scream. It could’ve been my imagination or the sound of the tyres or fuck knows what.

  “We won’t. But that’s the hardest thing to accept, that there’s stuff we’ll never have the answers to.” She turned around, straddling me, her hands on my shoulders. My hands sat on her waist, pulling her closer.

  “I miss this beach. When I’m in London or even at work and it’s play time and the kids are outside I’ll sometimes wish I was here, watching the waves, seeing the mountains.”

  Her eyes were focused on me and not the surroundings. I raised a hand and moved her hair from her face.

  “Especially after what happened to the boy in my class. I used to think about here and how peaceful it was and how happy I felt when I came home and then I felt guilty. I still feel guilty some days. But this, this beach, has been the same for thousands of years.”

  “And it’s still amazing.”

  She nodded. “It is.”

  I wasn’t looking at the scenery either. I was looking at her, the light freckles that were dotted across her nose, hazel eyes, lips that didn’t need any more colour than what she woke up with.

  “You can tell me what happened that night.” I didn’t want this to be all about me.

  Anya shook her head. “Later. But not now. I don’t want to get into a game of whose story trumps the other. Besides, you need to check out if I kept my promise.”

  I’d noticed the dress immediately when I’d seen her and my head had wandered to what she had on underneath it, if anything.

  “We’re on a beach, in public.” Even though there was nobody near us, and I hadn’t seen anyone for hours, I kept my voice low.

  “Public sex isn’t your kink then?”

  I laughed, my hands now on her smooth legs, following them up under her dress to see if she really had gone without underwear. I paused and kissed her softly. “So you like to seduce starving artists on beaches with sandwiches and teases of no underwear.”

  Her giggle was quiet and coy. “I get it right now your mind isn’t on what I’m not wearing.”

  If Ryan was looking down on me right now, and knowing him he’d be trying to look under her dress, he’d be telling me to move my head the fuck away from that night and instead take care of business. If it had been him who had survived he would not be moping around; he’d be trying to live both our lives.

  Which at some point would’ve given him a great excuse fo
r several threesomes.

  My eyes lifted to hers and my hands pushed up another few inches to find her naked underneath her dress and by then I was consumed by her, forgetting, needing to forget, about that night.

  I removed one hand, letting the other explore the tops of her thighs and cupped her face with the other, bringing her mouth to mine. She was warm and soft, her responses reminding me of the sea with its wild calm, the ripple of its surface hiding what was always below.

  My cock hardened as I shifted my hand to between her legs, finding the smooth silken flesh. I cupped her pussy, gently applying pressure to her clit and she spread her legs wider, her knees digging into the sand. Her hands went to my jeans, undoing the zipper and cupping my cock, pressing her hand tight against it.

  My hand dropped from her face to her shoulders, pushing down the straps of her dress. She laughed as I fumbled it down, exposing bare breasts.

  “No underwear at all?”

  “No. Gives you easy access.” She was becoming wetter and I figured my sweet school teacher liked being an exhibitionist. We were well shielded. As turned on as I was, I did not want anyone else sharing the sight of her.

  Her tits were more than a handful, her nipples large and dark, ripe for sucking but that would involve becoming a contortionist, so I settled for giving each a hard pinch. My head was firmly in the zone of getting inside her, feeling her tight cunt gripping my dick as it had done the other night. I pushed a finger inside her, slowly, needing to get her ready for me.

  “Can’t tell you how fucking amazing you look out here with your tits out for me. Every fucking fantasy I ever had.”

  She laughed, making her breasts bounce. Her nipples were erect and I was finding it hard to take my eyes away from them. I wanted to paint them, paint her naked on the beach and then save it just for my eyes and no one else’s.

  “You make me wet so easily. It’s embarrassing.” She had started to ride my fingers, her pussy getting wetter. Her hand was still on my dick, gripping it just enough to make me bite my lip occasionally.

  “Jesus, Anya, that is not something you need to apologise for.” I pushed in another finger and heard her gasp. “You ready for me? I want inside you.”

  She nodded, pushing her tits closer to me, needing release. Part of me wanted to make her come first, but the sight of her needy and close, wanting me to take her over the edge made me want to hold off, keep her there because it would be all the better in the end. I was also aware that anyone could walk past and when she was bouncing on my cock, it would be obvious what we were doing.

  “Come here.” I lifted her onto me, hearing her groan as I had to remove my fingers from her cunt. She guided me inside her and sank straight down, her nipples tightening even more, her eyes wide. The dress covered us, but the movements couldn’t be hidden. I guided up and down, getting her to ride my cock, whispering to her how tight she was for me, how wet she was, how her pussy was the best I’d had and how I wanted to fuck her forever.

  They were words, words that took her over the side into an orgasm that made her scream replace the one that had haunted me. Her muscles clenched around me, her fingernails digging in hard on my skin as she held on.

  I came hard inside her, thrusting up deep and making her cry out my name again, aftershocks reverberating through her. And then we stilled, me still deep inside her, her skirts still hiding us and her tits exposed, chest heaving with her breath as she tried to catch it.

  I pulled her into my chest as a dog ran behind her, not wanting anyone to see what was mine. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  “You keep telling me that.” She laughed into my t-shirt.

  “Because you are.”

  “You tell me lots of stuff when you’re fucking me.”

  She liked the words, I could tell. Any dirty words made her wetter and I wanted to push that further, find out what else made her lose her mind and forget everything else except me.

  “And I mean every word.” I knew exactly what I’d said and all of it was true. I’d known her days, fucked her more than twice and it wasn’t going to be enough. She was the realest, most tangible piece of life I’d found since Ryan had died and although I got that this was just for the summer I couldn’t see any further than that anyway.

  Her arms went round my neck, breasts still pressed against me, cock still semi hard inside her.

  “You make me feel like I’m more than just a body that functions. I know that sounds weird, but…”

  “I get what you mean.” I pressed my mouth to hers. “I want to stay with you here all day, but there’s a dog running around that will have an owner somewhere.”

  She laughed and pulled up the straps to her dress, tucking away her tits. “I should pack this up and head home for a shower. How do you want to get to the restaurant later?”

  “How does boat sound? I can borrow one.”

  “We have a couple that belong to the guesthouse, so we can take one of them. I can drive it too.” She gave me a wink, removing herself from my lap and reaching for the serviettes she’d thought to bring to clean herself up.

  I smiled at her. “I feel bad.”

  “Why?”

  “The mess. You have to deal with it.”

  She shook her head, grinning. “It doesn’t bother me. Or well, it doesn’t bother me yet. I’ve always used condoms before.”

  “Really?” I kept my tone cool, although this news was something I was keen to hear. I’d think about it later.

  “Really. My last boyfriend… you know, let’s not go into that. Just know that’s I’m clean and have an IUD fitted, so there shouldn’t be any surprises in nine months.” She stood up, packing the remainders of our late lunch.

  I helped her, slipping in brief touches of her when I could. I wasn’t ready to let go yet. “Will you stay at mine tonight after?” This was right outside my usual way of playing. If I did second dates, if that’s what this was, or even second screws, I wasn’t generally asking a woman back to stay over, sounding like a needy nerd.

  Ryan would be pissing his sides.

  “I’d like that. Can I drop a bag off before we head out? It’ll save another walk of shame tomorrow if I’ve got a change of clothes.”

  “Sure.” I stood there awkwardly, trying to remember how to play it cool. “I’m afraid my bed is still in the barn. I am working out what to do with the house though. Slowly.”

  “You don’t need to apologise, Gabe. Neither of us do.”

  I held her in my arms several hours later, full from the tapas we’d eaten, satiated from the sex we’d had. Slow lazy sex that worked on full bellies and without the urge to rush like we’d needed before.

  “I got the call at two in the morning.”

  It took me a few seconds to realise where our conversation had jumped to.

  “My head teacher had never phoned me at that time. No boss had. In fact, apart from when I’d been out and we’d lost a friend, no one has ever called me at that time, especially on a school-night.”

  “Who called her?”

  “The police. They’d seen photos of my pupil, Calen, and recognized the uniform he had on, so somehow they’d gotten Sandie’s number.”

  “And she phoned you?” I didn’t understand how that worked, waking someone in the night to give almost the worst possible news.

  “The press were there already. I would’ve heard it on the news in the morning. Or a journalist would’ve found out that I was his teacher and contacted me.” She buried into my chest, her legs meshed with mine.

  “How did you feel?”

  “Nothing. It was complete shock, I guess. The words didn’t register. I found out later that the family’s dog had been barking incessantly and a neighbour had gone round to see if something was the matter. When she went through the garden she saw the mother dead at the kitchen table.” Her voice lacked emotion, the facts given almost coldly.

  I understood, I got why she needed to do it, to keep what happened at arm’s length. It
was a way of coping, surviving.

  “What happened to the children?”

  “They were asleep. He smothered them while they were in bed after he’d killed their mother. Then he went back to the children and used an axe to deface their bodies. The mother had called time on their marriage a couple of months before – that I knew about as she’d come in to school to tell me what had happened in case Calen got upset during the day. From what I heard afterwards, her husband wanted to get back together, but she didn’t. He accused her of having an affair, according to her friends.” She moved back and looked up at me. “I have the facts. But there are gaps. No one will ever know what actually happened in that house that night. But I’ve spent the last few months thinking about my meeting with them for Calen’s parents’ evening and gone through to see if there was anything I should’ve picked up on. What did I miss?”

  “You didn’t miss anything.” They weren’t the words she needed to hear, but it was the truth. “And you know that. I think the same about the road that night and the other driver.”

  “But we can’t control everything. That was what my therapist got me to say almost as a mantra.”

  I kissed her. “What was your pupil like?”

  “He was bright. Obsessed with trucks and cars like most small boys and he was really coming on with his reading and phonics. His baby sister got on his nerves when she cried but he was always pleased to see her when his mum brought her at the end of the day. He played well with the others and didn’t have a special friend, which was easier. He’d only started at the school in the September as the family had moved and was still finding his feet a little and settling in.

  “Calen was happy,” she laughed quietly, remembering. “His tooth fell out one morning at snack time. It was a front tooth and it’d been wobbly for ages. He’d been desperate for it to come out. I remember him holding it up and telling me really excitedly that the tooth fairy was going to come that night. I wrapped it up safely and at the end of the day he remembered to ask me for it. Then he started crying. He was upset because his baby sister wouldn’t get a visit from the tooth fairy - that summed him up. He wanted everyone to be happy; if one of his classmates was sad, he was the one trying to cheer them up.