The Life We Almost Had

by Amelia Henley

  There was a shriek.

  The blonde – Star’s wife – frolicking in the waves with Josh. He probably thought she was flirting with him.

  Sucker.

  My eyes flickered back to Star. She was bobbing up and down. Tiny in the huge expanse of ocean but in no way insignificant.

  Josh and the blonde ran out of the sea and flopped down onto towels, deep in conversation. Again, I gazed out to sea, shielding my eyes when I couldn’t immediately see her. She resurfaced. Her hands waved. I thought at first she was beckoning to the blonde, wanting her to go back into the water, but then she slipped underwater again, and I wasn’t so sure. Worry drew me to my feet. Something was wrong. I knew it. She disappeared from view again. Her arms flailing as she fought to break free of the current, which now I realized had her in its grip. It was strong here, I knew from experience, but she should have been able to swim through it.

  Why wasn’t she swimming?

  The ocean sucked her down once more, her body, her head, her tightly clenched hands. I ripped off my T-shirt, kicked off my flip-flops and pelted into the sea. Once I was knee-deep I threw myself forward, the water slapping against my stomach, my arms slicing through the water. It could only have taken several seconds to reach her but it felt like forever. Her head was barely above water, panic in her eyes.

  ‘Just relax.’ I linked my arms around her waist. ‘I’ve got you.’ Her body thrashed wildly, heels jabbing into my shins. She didn’t speak. She was whimpering like a frightened puppy. ‘Let your body go limp or you’ll drag us both under.’ She was slim, she couldn’t weigh much, but I was struggling to stay afloat. She tried her best to stop moving but her muscles were rigid. It was like trying to save an ironing board, stiff and unyielding. I tried to manoeuvre her head onto my shoulder. ‘Relax.’ This was nothing like rescuing a mate in a swimming pool for my silver badge. I was sweating despite the water. I began kicking towards the shore, her slumped against my chest, her head leaning back on my shoulder. ‘I’ve got you,’ I said again. It was then I realized I never wanted to let her go.

  In the shallows we stumbled to our feet, our arms around each other. I wasn’t sure who was supporting who as we staggered onto dry sand. I was incredulous that conversation still buzzed, children still filled their buckets. Nobody had noticed that someone had almost drowned. My adrenaline was leeching from me, the memory of a few minutes ago hazy. But it had happened.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She nodded but I knew she wasn’t. She was shaking. I was shaking.

  ‘Anna! I’m going to get some drinks with Josh. Be back in a bit,’ the blonde called loudly before she turned away.

  Anna. She was called Anna. I wanted us to be alone but she needed comfort. Reassurance. I couldn’t give that to her. I couldn’t just watch the blonde leave, like a dick.

  ‘Do you want me to tell your wife what happened?’ I asked as her knees buckled and she sank onto her towel, still coughing.

  ‘My wife? Why would you… Oh, last night.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘She’s not my… I’m not…’ She coughed again, rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand.

  That mouth.

  ‘It’s hard to know how to explain,’ she said.

  ‘I find it’s best to start at the beginning, Anna?’ I sat cross-legged next to her. ‘I’m Adam, by the way.’

  ‘I don’t want to go into it all, but Nell’s my best friend. We’re not romantically… I’m not romantically…’ She ran her fingers over the face of my watch. ‘I hope that’s waterproof – it looks old?’

  She was changing the subject. I wanted to know why she was on a honeymoon with her friend but I didn’t want to push. She looked so pale and there was still a tremble in her fingers as she lifted them from my wrist.

  ‘It’ll be okay.’ I leaned back on my elbows, feeling the rough sand against my feet, the sun warming my skin, and hope. I felt hope.

  ‘You twat,’ Josh would have said if he knew what I was thinking.

  He wouldn’t be far wrong.

  ‘Thank you,’ Anna said quietly. We’d been sitting side by side, gazing out to sea for at least fifteen minutes – it was difficult to gauge the time; my watch wasn’t waterproof and I wasn’t hopeful it would ever work again. We were both lost in our own what-might-have-been thoughts. Our silence companionable rather than awkward. ‘You saved my life,’ she said.

  ‘You’d have been okay.’ I sieved sand through my fingers. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Better. Embarrassed. I’m not a good swimmer.’

  ‘No shit!’

  There was a split second when her expression hovered uncertainly before she burst into laughter. I found myself laughing too and when Josh returned with the drinks we were doubled over, my sides aching.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Josh asked, shadowed in the sun, but we couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t explain it. For Anna it was probably the relief of her being alive. For me? It was the same.

  ‘I’m Nell.’ The blonde handed Anna a plastic pint glass of beer before she sat, curving her legs under her.

  ‘Adam.’ I took a sip from the glass Josh offered me. It was weak and warm.

  ‘Are you as smooth as your friend here, Adam?’ Nell asked.

  ‘Sadly not. Josh has all the moves.’

  ‘So he thinks,’ Nell grinned.

  ‘I think I might have met my match,’ Josh said.

  Nell raised her eyebrows. ‘You think?’

  ‘And you are?’ Josh held a hand out to Anna.

  ‘Anna.’ She took his hand and he raised hers to his lips, planted a kiss.

  ‘A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.’

  Nell cupped her hands around her mouth. ‘Lock up your daughters – Casanova is in town.’

  Josh’s eyes were all over Anna, undoubtedly unsavoury thoughts running through his mind.

  ‘Oi. Behave.’ I threw a kick in his direction. He glanced at me and I gave an almost indiscernible shake of my head and in return he gave an almost imperceptible nod. He turned his attention back to Nell. He may come across as a dick sometimes but, like I said, he was loyal to me. Always had my back.

  While he asked Nell if she fancied another swim, I asked Anna if she wanted to go for a walk and I tried not to read too much into it when she said that she did.

  We strolled barefoot across the beach, not getting too close to the rolling waves that frothed into foam. Jet skis zoomed towards the shore and shot out to sea again as though they were attached to elastic. I felt the prickling heat of sunburn on the back of my neck, but I also felt something else. Comfortable. Something I’d never truly felt with Roxanne, with her constant obsession with her appearance. With my appearance. Making me change before a night out if what I was wearing didn’t complement her outfit.

  ‘Shall we head up there?’ I pointed to a slope that led off the beach.

  In unison, we turned. Our bodies were close as we strolled, arms almost brushing. I could have stretched out my fingers and taken her hand, but I didn’t.

  We paused when we reached the path. Brushing the sand from our feet before slipping our flip-flops on. Hers were silver and sparkly. Mine were from Primark, white and plastic. Roxanne would have been horrified.

  A row of kiosks selling postcards and buckets and spades provided a strip of shade and we stepped into it thankfully, welcoming the kiss of warmth rather than the beating heat.

  A man approached us and thrust a clipboard under Anna’s nose. Pushed a pen into her hand. He tapped twice on the sentence at the top of the form written in broken English. Some sort of petition to keep open a school for deaf children. Anna glanced at the man, confused. He placed his hands over his ears.

  ‘You’re deaf,’ Anna said.

  He nodded. Moved a hand to cover his mouth.

  ‘You can’t talk?’

  He shook his head.

  Anna’s expression was one of sadness. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She spoke slowly. Clearly, exaggerating each word with the movement of h
er lips. ‘What do you need?’

  He twisted his fingers, signing things we didn’t understand.

  ‘I can’t… I don’t know sign language,’ Anna said.

  The man tapped twice on the sentence again, this time with force. The clipboard bowing in Anna’s hands. He slid his finger down to a blank space before pointing at Anna.

  ‘You want me to sign my name?’

  He nodded. His hands making circles as though there was more.

  ‘My address?’

  He nodded again. Tapped the paper too hard. He was getting my back up now. He might be deaf but that was no excuse to be rude and intimidating.

  ‘You don’t have to—’ I began but Anna had begun scrawling out her details.

  Anna Adlington.

  ‘Good luck.’ She handed the clipboard back to him with a smile. She began to walk on but he put a hand against her shoulder, stopping her. He rubbed his fingers together, the universal sign for cold hard cash.

  ‘Oh, you want money!’ Anna’s cheeks spotted pink. ‘I’m so sorry, I don’t have my bag. Adam… do you…’

  I did have my wallet but I wasn’t giving anything to this tosser with his aggressive attitude. It was probably a scam.

  ‘No, I don’t.’ I took Anna’s arm and went to walk away but the man blocked my path.

  ‘Listen, mate.’ I straightened my spine. ‘We’re not giving you any money, understand?’

  The man began to shout, angry words, and despite the language barrier I could guess what he was saying.

  ‘Back off.’ I held up my palm, shielding Anna with my other arm. We hurried away.

  ‘He lied,’ she said quietly. ‘You really can’t trust anyone.’ I could hear the crack in her voice as she spoke and I knew she was thinking of whoever had hurt her, just as I was thinking of Roxanne.

  ‘I’d better get back to Nell.’ She wouldn’t meet my eye and began to hurry away.

  ‘Anna.’ I hesitated as she paused. Unsure what I wanted to say. That not all men are bastards. That I’d never hurt her. Lie to her. That rejection was raw for me as well, that I understood; finding Roxanne in bed with her boss, her legs wrapped around his waist while a band of pain tightened around my heart. There was so much I wanted to say but I didn’t say any of it. Instead, I asked, ‘I’d very much like to have dinner later. With you, I mean. You and me having dinner together. What do you think?’

  It was crazy to ask. A holiday romance wasn’t on the agenda. A quick fling wasn’t my style and I had plans for after this fortnight. A new life waiting that wouldn’t accommodate a relationship. But still, in that moment we felt all kinds of right for each other. I didn’t know then that we were all kinds of wrong for each other.

  I didn’t know, while I waited for her answer, that I should, perhaps, have walked away.

  Chapter Five

  Anna

  ‘No, I can’t have dinner with you,’ I had said when Adam first asked me out. But as he turned away, I caught both his ‘sorry’ and the sight of the pink tinge of sunburn on the back of his neck and he seemed vulnerable somehow. Not brash like his friend Josh. There was no way I was looking for a holiday romance but I felt mean. Ungrateful. He had, after all, saved my life. Stepped in front of the not-deaf deaf guy when he was beginning to scare me.

  ‘Adam, wait!’ I had called. ‘Yes. Yes, I’ll have dinner with you.’

  It was just one meal to say thank you. Nothing more.

  We opted to sit on the terrace just in time to see the last glow of sunlight slipping behind the ocean. Fairy lights spiralled around the pergola. Candles flickered on every table. The beach was swallowed by night but we could still hear the gentle lap of waves. Taste the salt carried by the warm breeze. It was relentlessly romantic right down to the musician perched on a high stool, gently strumming on a guitar. Honeymoon-perfect, except a virtual stranger was the one topping up my glass.

  Except, despite only knowing him for a few hours, Adam didn’t quite feel like a stranger.

  This is not a date.

  I had been studying the menu for far too long, my stomach fluttering with nerves. It was natural I’d feel on edge; I’d almost drowned earlier, but each time I raised my eyes and caught sight of Adam I felt… something.

  ‘Are you ready to order?’ The waiter hovered around our table for the third time, pad and pen poised.

  ‘I’ll have a crab salad, please.’ I can’t remember the last time I ordered anything other than salad on a date.

  ‘You’re getting a bit porky, Anna. Think of our wedding photos.’

  Except this… this wasn’t a date and the restaurant smelled so delicious – garlic and oil and herbs. Did I really want a plate of leaves? If I had died today, I wanted to have lived my life. Loved my life. I wanted to be remembered for being kind and happy and fun. Not the girl who never let herself go because she was trying to lose the same ten pounds over and over again.

  ‘Sorry, can I change my mind?’ I quickly scanned the menu again. ‘I’ll have a paella with a side order of tomatoes stuffed with feta and spicy chorizo, and could I please have some bread and olives while I wait?’ I lowered the menu, my shoulders stiff with the expectation of disapproval on Adam’s face but instead he smiled.

  ‘That sounds great. I’ll have the same, please.’

  We both watched the waiter until he disappeared back inside.

  My mouth was dry. I picked up my glass and took a long drink of sangria, watching the other diners. The couple staring so deeply into each other’s eyes that they probably didn’t register the chink of cutlery on china, the low murmur of conversation. The elderly lady eating alone, a paperback propped up against a jug of water, eyes straining to read by candlelight. A widow? A family of at least three generations seated at a long table across the terrace. A ‘Happy Golden Anniversary’ balloon tugging against its string.

  What did these people see when they looked at me? A girl whose fiancé hadn’t been able to bear spending another single day with her, let alone a lifetime? A girl having a holiday romance? The start of something?

  This is not a date.

  ‘So.’ Adam’s voice led me back to the present.

  ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’ I took another drink. Put down my glass and fiddled with the edge of my napkin. Why was I so nervous?

  ‘Don’t judge me, Anna, but…’ Adam took a deep breath. ‘I’ve already chosen my dessert.’

  I laughed. ‘Me too. Limoncello and plum tart.’

  ‘Snap. I knew there was a reason why I like you. Not like like,’ he added quickly. ‘Not…’ Now he played with his napkin.

  ‘To friendship?’ I raised my glass and we chinked, but our eyes met and an unspoken toast passed between us, to the future versions of ourselves and even then, on some level, I knew that in the days to come, weeks, months, years, our lives would be bound together.

  ‘Tell me about yourself, Anna Adlington.’

  The arrival of a platter of bread and dips gave me time to think. What did I want him to know? Everything and nothing.

  ‘I’m an English teacher.’

  ‘Primary?’

  ‘Secondary.’

  ‘You like a challenge then?’

  I met his gaze. Is that how he saw me? Fearless? Brave?

  ‘I do like a challenge.’ Did I? Was I flirting? I carried on. ‘My dad is a teacher. Was. Was a teacher.’

  Adam studied me. He could have assumed my dad had changed professions or retired, but somehow he just knew.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Anna. Do you want to talk about him?’

  One thing I’ve learned is that grief makes people uncomfortable. Loss is a subject to be changed, skimmed over in case death is catching. Nobody wants to think about it. Talk about it. Question their own mortality. Yet Adam had covered my hand with his and was unflinching in his gaze. I knew he was seeing more of me than anyone else here could.

  ‘Thanks, but no.’ I drew my hand away but I could still feel the warmth of his skin. I coiled my fingers
around the cool stem of my glass when all I really wanted to do was to thread them through Adam’s.

  ‘Anna,’ he said softly. ‘I—’

  ‘For you, señorita.’ The waiter placed a steaming plate of paella in front of me. ‘Señor.’

  The tension broken, I picked up my fork. ‘I love this Mediterranean food so much.’

  ‘Me too.’ Adam speared a prawn. ‘Josh’s parents took us to Barcelona for a week after we’d passed our A Levels and when we got home I made paella.’

  ‘Was it good?’

  ‘I didn’t realize rice expands so I chucked in the whole packet – not just any packet, a huge one from a cash and carry. I was eating the bloody thing for about a week but by then the seafood had gone off and… It wasn’t pretty, let’s just say.’

  I laughed. ‘It hasn’t put you off eating it though?’

  ‘Nothing would put me off my food. What’s your favourite thing to eat?’

  ‘Ice cream. You?’

  ‘Pringles. Once you pop.’

  It was easy to talk about the inconsequential, ignoring the spark between us. I wasn’t sure if Adam could feel it too. He told me when he was growing up, he was obsessed with Eighties music and films.

  ‘I loved Back to the Future with Michael J. Fox,’ I said. ‘Was that the Eighties?’

  ‘Yep. Everyone loves Marty.’ Unabashed, Adam began to sing ‘The Power of Love’ from the movie. I joined in the chorus, knowing that everyone here was a stranger, probably never to be seen again.

  ‘So I know where you’d go if you could travel in time. Or what era anyway. The Eighties in…’ I appraised him. ‘America? Hollywood?’

  ‘Because I have film-star good looks?’ Adam smoothed back his hair.

  ‘I was thinking more about you seeing where they made movies rather than starring in them,’ I laughed.

  ‘No offence taken.’ Adam pretended to dab a tear with his napkin. ‘I’d like to see America. I’d like to see all the places I sell tickets to.’ He caught my expression. ‘I’m a travel agent.’