by Annie Dyer
“You’re done,” Morris said, and I wondered if he knew something that Donald and I didn’t, for it seemed like we weren’t done at all. Donald looked at me as the next couple took our place, his hand still firmly on my waist.
What do I do, Alice? I think he likes me more than he should, but I could be making it up. I wish you were here so we could laugh about this and work out what to do – not that I can do anything. He’s a married man and his wife is exactly what he needs her to be, given his position.
But he looks at me like no one else has.
Wish you were here, Alice.
Love,
Marcy
“Aunty Anya, you said we could go on the boat!”
I put the book back in my beach bag and stretched. My nephew was done with occupying himself and wanted to be occupied by me. It was the second time I’d looked after him, to give Kim – and him - a break. The first time had been hard. I’d thought about Calen and how he should’ve been looking forward to playing outdoors on his bike and then I remembered what I’d said to my therapist: grief is acceptable as long as you don’t let it steal your future.
“Get your life jacket on then.”
He gave me the look that said he’d rather not, but he was five and even if he swam like Nemo in the Olympics, there was no way he was getting on a boat on my watch without a jacket on.
“You put yours on too, Aunty Anya. I if have to, you have to.”
“Shit.” I cursed quietly under my breath. Mine wasn’t with me and I knew for a fact it wasn’t in the boat. I was a more than competent sea swimmer, but I wouldn’t usually go out without a jacket with a kid on board. “Sorry, buddy. I’ve forgotten mine.”
His little face turned sad, a genuine upset, not just the crocodile tears I knew he was more than capable of. “Okay, kiddo. We can go out, but no rocking or tearing round. You’ve got to be sensible.”
His eyes lit up and his smile stretched wide. I took his hand and we headed out to the dock where the little boat owned by the guesthouse was moored. I faffed around for a few minutes, keeping one eye glued to the little man. He sat patiently, watching everything I was doing.
Being brought up by the sea meant he’d been taught respect for it from the start. My brother-in-law had taken him out in the water as soon as he was old enough and going out on a boat was how Harry would spend every day of his life if he could. But my teacher instinct meant I was on over-protective mode and having had one loss, I did not want to put myself at risk of another.
“You off out?”
The deep voice made me jump. I turned round and saw Gabe standing shirtless as usual. He had fishing equipment in his hands so I figured he’d been out on a deep fish or he’d taken a party out. We had team building groups come out for fishing experiences or even stag parties and Gabe had been helping out with them.
“Taking Harry for a quick boat trip. If the kid doesn’t get out on the water at least once a day, he starts to go into meltdown.”
Harry appeared at my side, looking up at Gabe. “Are you coming too?”
Gabe grinned and crouched down so he was on Harry’s level. “Not today. But maybe I can take you out on one of the bigger boats next week?”
Harry’s face lit up. “Yes, please. I’d be really, really good.”
“I’m sure you would.”
Gabe’s hair was down, long and heavy, curling to just below his shoulders. I’d never slept with a man who had longer hair than my own, or even better hair than my own, and I’d never thought I’d be attracted to one.
But he was something different. The way he was looking at Harry right now was doing things to my lady parts that shouldn’t have been happening, not after knowing someone for such a short period of time. Not after everything that had happened to us both. Neither of us were right for anything more than a summer fling.
“You be good for your Aunty Anya.” Gabe fist bumped Harry, doing a turny thing when their hands hand bumped that I’d seen other kids do.
I laughed. “Come on, H, let’s get you on board.”
I took the boat out to a spot where I knew the current was predictable. Like Harry, I was confident, having lived the majority of my life on the island. Like Harry, I knew what the sea was capable of and the Straits were deceptively murderous. I let him have a guided go at steering, keeping the engine quiet so we weren’t going at any real speed.
We headed back towards the dock, into the cove of our beach. A loud engine disrupted the relative quiet and the next thing I knew I was in the water, sinking fast.
Panic rose in me, drowning me from the inside. Harry. Harry was in there with me. I tried to quell the scream that was pulling me under and fight the fracturing of my reality. Water. Kick up. Kick. Kick. Kick. I went through each step, hearing my teacher voice telling me what to do, finally finding light and air and seeing a little bit in a bright orange life jacket turning his head and shouting for his Aunty Anya.
“I’m here! I’m here, Harry.” I swam over to him, aware of several boats lurking nearby and the large body of Shep nearer to Harry than I was.
“Got him, Anya. It’s fine. Luke’s going to sort your boat.” Shep’s voice was the same steady calm it always was.
Then arms encircled me and I didn’t have to kick any more. “I’ll get you back. It’s going to be fine.”
Gabe.
I clung onto him, my eyes still on Shep who had hold of Harry and was swimming with him to his boat. Gabe took me there too, keeping my head above water while my body continued to shake. The sea was frigidly cold; the shock and the fear were now reeking their effect on me and I knew tears were very close.
Hands pulled me into the boat and a wet but okay little boy slipped onto my lap, already wrapped in foil. Some went round me, then Gabe’s arms even though he was sopping wet too. I saw our boat being turned back over and decided not to think any more about what could’ve happened.
“Do you know why you went over?” Shep asked, crouching down as one of his crew started to take us back to shore.
“No idea.” My teeth chattered. “We were heading back in and then we were in the sea. Jesus.” Gabe’s arms tightened.
“Speedboat.” Shep said. “Clipped you and sent you over. They were going too fast and clearly lost control. Coastguard will pick them up.”
“Probably drunk.” The crew mate who I didn’t know added.
I felt Gabe stiffen, his arms still tight.
Nausea started to crease my stomach. But I didn’t think it was because of cold or shock. It was him. I could feel how his body became a tight container, bottling every fear he’d just gone through.
I hadn’t been there when Calen died. I’d been at home in bed, possibly with a book, possibly making a mug of tea to take to bed, maybe even on the phone to my sister. I hadn’t been there to see the aftermath or witness a tragedy in progress.
Gabe had.
And he’d just witnessed what could’ve been another.
We docked and clambered off the boat, Harry in the process of asking question number eighty-five about the boats and fishing equipment. The possibilities of what could’ve happened had not occurred to him, and hopefully wouldn’t. Instead, he’d probably always remind me to never go out without my life jacket.
Gabe let go of me when my feet were on solid ground. He was soaked and still silent, his eyes flitting from one thing to the next. I called my nephew over and wrapped him in a huge hug that made him wriggle. He had warmed up and was seemingly none the worse for falling into the sea. If I gave him the option, he’d want to get back out on the boat.
“I’ll run you home, Anya,” Shep said. “I’m done for the day and I need to call by the guesthouse with a delivery.” He glanced at Gabe and back to me, understanding that all was not well.
“You’re soaking.” I stated the obvious.
Shep shrugged. “Sooner I drop you, sooner I get home to change. You want a lift, Gabe?”
Gabe shook his head. “I’m going to head of
f. Catch you later, Anya.”
I watched him turn and start to jog back to his house. It was then it caught me, the sense of futility tapping me on the shoulder like I’d just lost in a game of tig.
We were both broken. How can you fix something when you’re broken yourself?
Gabe
It didn’t matter that I was soaking wet or that I’d swallowed a couple of gallons of sea water. I didn’t notice how the light meandered through the clouds or how the gulls had soared higher. I didn’t notice anything apart from my need to fuck off away from everyone and shut down.
I pushed open the front door hard enough to make it bang, and went upstairs, tossing off my T-shirt and losing my trainers somewhere along the way. The house had a small bedroom room, currently full of boxes which my parents had brought up one weekend when they figured I really had backed away from my life as it was.
I sat down with my back to the wall, legs bent to my chest and put my forehead to my knees. The wet on my face wasn’t from the sea. I heard sirens, the screech of tyres, the harsh crunch of metal on metal and then it repeated.
Flashbacks.
I saw Anya’s boat tip as it was clipped by the speedboat. Saw her disappear. The panic I’d managed to suppress at the time flooded me now and I shook, the light from the small window filtering onto me, a spotlight. The fucking disastrous hero in some sort of post-Shakespearian tragedy.
Time died with the light. My head had emptied and the panic had given way to numbness, which in turn had left me raw. Outside, the sky had turned to orange, the clouds blackened, the earth’s smoke.
What if she’d drowned?
The thought made me feel sick.
Ryan wasn’t like a brother: we didn’t fight or disagree or fall out. He had been my wing man, my best friend. My soul mate. I couldn’t cope with another loss.
This had been something I’d talked about with my therapist. My self-destruct button had included pushing everyone close to me away. For weeks when I was in rehab after my back surgeries, I refused to let any of my family visit. I couldn’t manage their concern or worry or fear: it was impossible for me to accept that they were hurting because of me, like I was hurting because of Ryan.
It was also impossible for me to deal with the idea of losing anyone else.
All of it was perfectly normal, so I was told. Everyone deals with grief differently, and keeping people away was one of those ways. A safety mechanism.
I’d tensed when Anya had been in my arms on Shep’s boat. My head had already conjured a different ending and I had stiffened at the idea that she was nearly not there. Twenty-five months was a long time, however quickly it had gone, and I hadn’t recovered fully and didn’t think I ever would. That was something I’d accepted. But going through it again was not something I was well enough to break into fixable pieces for.
The door to the box room opened. I knew who it was without looking over, the musky scent she wore carrying over.
Anya said nothing. Instead she sat down next to me, nudging a box out of the way with her foot. Her head went on my shoulder and my arm went around her and I breathed her in, feeling her heat.
We sat there like that while the sky blackened and dimmed, the stars hidden and the moon blanketed. There were no words, none were needed. No justifications.
We’d both remembered what it felt like to be helpless and life had underlined that it could happen at any time.
I shifted her into my arms, sitting her between my legs and wrapping my arms around her. I’d managed to dry off, but my skin was rough with the salt from the sea. Her hair was down and lose, soft against my chin.
She warmed me.
There were choices, ones that sounded big but in actual fact were very simple. Being close to anyone puts you at risk of being hurt at any time, but it was a risk I couldn’t take. I knew that now. I could live on an island but I couldn’t be one.
“How’s Harry?”
She hitched back into me. “He’s absolutely fine and asking if he can go swimming tomorrow. Kim was fine too.” Her head leaned back against my chest.
“It wasn’t your fault. The speedboat was going too fast…”
“I know. I should’ve had my lifejacket on. I should’ve been more vigilant.”
“Should’ve.” There were too many should’ves.
“It’s a pointless word.”
“It is. Because he’s fine. And you’re fine.”
“And you’re not.” She wasn’t going to ignore the elephant in the room.
“No. I wasn’t.”
“I saw you panic. I felt you panic.”
“I know.” Another woman would’ve stayed away. It wasn’t me who had been tossed by the sea, yet I was the one who’d reacted as if I had been. “I don’t want to apologise for it.” I couldn’t. Because right now, this was who I was. I knew in time things would get easier; I wouldn’t have that physical reaction
“And you shouldn’t.”
I felt the tension strung through her body. “How are you feeling about it?”
“Better now. Nan put it into perspective. Harry’s been pretty much brought up on a boat and I’ve swam in that sea long enough to know what to do if I capsize. It isn’t the first time it’s happened. She just looked at me and said it’s a risk I’ve been taking for years. Everything worked out fine and all that’s happened is that Harry wants to go sea swimming tomorrow.”
“And you’re taking him?”
“Yes.” Her voice was quiet but firm. “I can’t live by staying wrapped away from risks. Harry wanted to go on the boat this afternoon and I took him even though I didn’t have my lifejacket. He did. I wouldn’t have taken him otherwise. We were both fine. Even if I’d banged my head and lost consciousness, you were all there because we were far enough inland in case of an emergency. I can’t not do things because of other people’s stupidity. I just have to build that into my risk assessments.” She laughed although it was a little forced. “I sound like such a teacher.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” I buried my face into her hair. “And you’re right. You can’t live in a box.”
“Neither can you.”
I kissed the side of her neck. I needed to apologise for not being there for her today, because it was her it was happening to, not me. I hated when people took someone else’s drama and made it their own and I’d done that – not for the attention. Boxing yourself up in a room was not looking for attention. “I know. I tried it. But sometimes it’s hard not to go there. I’m sorry I wasn’t what you needed today.”
She didn’t say anything, simply looked out of the window and I wanted to paint her again, from behind as she gazed out at the night from a plain room in which she was the most beautiful element.
“Gabe. This – this what we have is a summer thing. I know that on September first I’ll be back in London at school. Even if I choose to move back here, that won’t be till December at the soonest. And I don’t know if I’m – or you – are right for anything more than what we’ve been doing.” Her voice was pained and the words sounded forced.
I wanted them to sound forced.
“Then let’s not analyse it or take it for any more than what it is. Let’s just have a good summer. And you don’t need to explain how you’re feeling or what happened – I get it.”
“I know you do.” She moved out of my hold and went to the window, looking out towards the sea. “I get why you had to rush back here afterwards.”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me, standing up but not following her. I had no idea how to respond; what to say or how to be. A rift had been created, one that I couldn’t fill with hot words and orgasms.
Anya turned round, her eyes catching the faint light that was falling through the door. “Will you show me your paintings?”
I felt like a teenaged boy again. If Ryan was there he’d have taken the piss so hard. A pretty girl likes you, Gabe. Has she got you tied up in knots? Never seen you like this before…
“All of them?” She’d seen some already, but not the ones of her.
There was a nod and a smile, one I couldn’t decipher.
“I’ll show you.” I held out a hand.
She took it. “You sound nervous.”
I was. I’d fucked up today. I wasn’t going to thrash myself with it, because the panic had been something that was almost out of my control, but I knew I had to start to make that leap into being what others needed me to be. Because I wanted to be there. “I’m showing you stuff no one else has seen.”
“You make it sound like you’re a virgin.”
I grinned at her, finding a bit of wickedness. “Can’t think of anyone better to lose it to.”
This time her laugh and smile were full-bodied and lighter. “Come on, show me your goods.”
“Do I have time to grab a really quick shower.”
We had stopped on the landing, outside the bathroom.
“You haven’t changed or showered yet?”
I shook my head, aware that my hair was matted from the sea.
“You went straight into that room?”
I shrugged. “Coping mechanism. I had flashbacks. I needed to be in a small space and just ride with it.”
