The Swimmer

by David Haynes

  “What if I come over in the morning and watch for myself?”

  There was a pause on the other end and for a brief moment May was convinced she had over stepped the mark again. “I could wait in the cove, but if she’s trying to keep the name of the swimmer to herself then I‘d scare her off. Besides, it’s bloody cold.”

  The lack of response made her want to continue talking; awkward silences were always unpleasant. She opened her mouth to speak and was on the verge of apologising when Joe’s voice came through. “If you can make it across the field without falling over, you can come any time after six thirty. I’ll make the coffee but don’t expect sparkling conversation at that time of the day.”

  “Really? That’s fantastic, thank you. But honestly, don’t go making any of that coffee just for me”

  “Oh no, I insist. It gave me a kick to see the look on your face after the first taste.”

  9

  May pulled into the car park and made her way slowly across the field which was boggy from the heavy rain. It was still dark but she’d been up since five, energised by the exciting events of the last few days. She couldn’t remember feeling so excited by her work in a very long time.

  The rain beat against her umbrella, drumming out a methodical, predictable tune which made her think of her annual camping holidays with her parents. She’d wake up each morning, wishing for the sunshine which would take them all to the beach, instead of another trip to a stately home in the drizzle.

  From the field she could see the small, square window of Joe’s cottage illuminated from the inside and the shadowy figure of someone looking out. She raised her hand and was thankful to see Joe raise his hand back. She hurried the last few metres, wanting to be out of the cold rain and inside the inviting looking cottage.

  Joe was waiting at the open door and beckoned her inside. “Come in, nice morning eh?”

  May collapsed the umbrella, leant it up against the wall and unbuttoned her coat. The comforting smell of burning wood made her shiver involuntarily. “I must be mad; it’s like the end of the world out there. Will we even be able to see anyone down there? It’s still black as night.”

  Joe checked his watch. “Give it another half hour or so and we should be okay.” He took her coat hung it on the back of the door. “Go and take a seat, I’ll get you a coffee”

  May screwed her eyes shut. “Would you mind if I had tea?”

  Joe laughed. “I’m sure I can find a few tea bags.” He rubbed a hand down his unshaven face. “It’ll have to be plastic milk though. I’m afraid the milk man doesn’t deliver down here.”

  “Plastic milk?”

  “Err… Yes, that long life stuff in a carton. It tastes a bit like plastic, nice in tea though so I hear.”

  May laughed too. “Go on then. I’ll take it over your coffee any time.”

  “Hey, watch it! Invitations can be rescinded you know.” He walked off to the kitchen and May followed him.

  The kitchen was small but perfectly formed with brand new appliances and fittings. It looked too sterile though, as if it weren’t being used. Joe flicked the switch on the kettle and a blue neon light illuminated the water inside. She could see a cafetiere next to the kettle which was about half full of ground coffee. “Is that what you normally put in there? No wonder it tastes like crap.”

  “Like I said to you the other night, it’s a tobacco substitute. Although I’m starting to think fags might actually be better for me.” He dropped a tea bag into a large white mug and poured boiling water into it. The remainder of the water was poured into the cafetiere and immediately the rich aroma of fresh coffee did comforting battle with the warming smell of wood smoke.

  Once Joe had added plastic milk to the tea, he ushered May into the main room. She made her way to the ragged looking sofa and noticed a bunched up fleece and pillow crammed into the corner. 'I wonder if he sleeps on here?' She thought and sat at the opposite end. Joe sat where he had during the interview, on the wooden chair at his desk. He nodded towards the little window above his head. “This is where I saw her yesterday, the old lady I mean.” He checked his watch again. “Another quarter of an hour and the sun, such as it is, will start showing its face.” He turned to her again. “So what exactly do you find to write about in that paper of yours? It’s not exactly a hot bed of activity down here is it?”

  May frowned. “Well probably not in the way you’d be used to, drugs, murders and all that big city stuff but you’d be surprised. There’s loads of things happening all the time.”

  “Such as?”

  She could see he was teasing her but she wasn’t about to let him poke fun at her work.

  “Okay, yesterday I was poking about in an old mine. The previous day I was interviewing a reclusive writer and the day before I was investigating the disappearance of a mystery swimmer. It all sounds pretty active to me.” She didn’t mention it was about the only activity there had been in the last five years.

  Joe’s face appeared serious again. “Which mine were you in?”

  “The Levant mine, don’t tell anyone yet but…” She paused. “Now why did I say that? You don’t know anyone to tell do you? The owner of the paper’s going to re-open the mine again. God knows why but anyway he took me down there yesterday. It’s incredible, absolutely amazing.”

  “Is he? Christ, my great grandad’s still buried down there somewhere. From what I understand, he was one of only two men left unaccounted for after the accident.” Joe shrugged. “Why on earth would he want to start digging around down there after all this time, when did it close? Nineteen twenty something wasn’t it?”

  “1919, I think. I’m no expert, Joe and I really couldn’t say why he wants to re-open it but one thing I do know. He wouldn’t be doing it if he didn’t think there wasn’t plenty of money to be made.”

  “I suppose that’s as good a reason as any. It just seems a bit strange that’s all. Don’t suppose you could get me a guided tour could you?”

  May laughed. “A favour returned? I could certainly ask, no promises though. He’s not an easy man to talk into something he doesn’t want to do.”

  Joe put the binoculars to his eyes and looked out of the window. There was nothing to see yet but the sky was starting its slow revolution from black to grey. May was disarmingly easy to talk to and the guards and checks he’d put in place so long ago were being eroded. Still, he reconciled it with the fact that this time, he was at least in charge of what was happening. She was very beautiful though, there was no getting around that and his attraction to her was an aspect of the relationship he couldn’t control.

  “See anything interesting?”

  “Huh?” Joe put the binoculars back on the windowsill and as he did so he brushed against May’s hand. He quickly moved away. “No nothing yet. Have a look for yourself.” He walked back towards the kitchen. “More tea?”

  May picked up the binoculars and looked towards the cove. “No thanks, I’m fine.” She’d felt the accidental touch of his hand as he’d put the binoculars down. She knew it had made him feel uncomfortable and a mischievous grin played on her lips. She might just have to engineer a few more accidental touches.

  For the next few minutes May kept watch over the slowly illuminating coastline but mostly she kept the binoculars fixed on the slipway. The rain was coming down harder now and the drops bounced off the concrete and formed a misty cloud. The indefatigable sound of the waves raking the smooth pebbles to and fro was somehow mesmerisingly melancholy against the grey dawn. She felt herself slipping into a tired hypnotic state. If it weren’t for a garish red and white spotted umbrella suddenly appearing at the top of the slipway, she might have missed the hunched figure, slowly shuffling towards the waves.

  “There she is,” she whispered.

  “I see someone, or something?” Joe had resumed his place next to her at the window.

  She passed the binoculars back to him. “Is it the same woman?”

  Joe took a quick look and pass
ed them back. “I don’t know but she’s following the same ritual. Here have a look.”

  May watched as a hand appeared from beneath the umbrella clutching a red flower. The bright scarlet petals matched the spots on the umbrella and they were a shocking contrast to the grey November morning. She held the flower like a torch before tossing it gently into the greedy ocean. The figure turned and May saw a tangle of white hair fanning lazily under the cover of the umbrella.

  “Who the hell is she?” she whispered almost to herself. She passed the binoculars back to Joe and lightly brushed the back of his hand with her fingers.

  He took the binoculars without any sign of being uncomfortable. “No idea but there can’t be many umbrellas like that around here can there?”

  “Reckon I can catch her?” May asked.

  Joe frowned “I wouldn’t think so but then again….” He ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair. “She looks pretty old and the climb back to the top is hard going. If you ran back to the car park, you might catch her.”

  May was already walking back to the door to get her coat. “Fancy a walk in the rain?” she called over her shoulder.

  “Not particularly but I’m not one to ignore the possibility of finding out who our mystery swimmer was.”

  They jogged across the field towards the gate at the edge of Joe’s land. He tried desperately hard not to show it but by the time they reached the gate, he was incapable of speech. May bounced over the gate in an easy fluid movement but Joe clambered over, almost falling on the other side. May took his elbow and steadied him. “I thought coppers had to be fit and agile?”

  It was all Joe could do to smile; he could feel the coffee working its way back up his throat.

  From the path they could both see the car park clearly and the only vehicle in it was May’s. She looked at her watch. “By my reckoning it’s only taken us about two minutes to get across here, so she should be appearing very soon.”

  Joe nodded. “It might look a bit weird if we’re waiting up here to ambush her. Shall we walk down towards the cove? It might look a bit more natural.” He started off towards the little path down to Priest’s Cove.

  After several minutes they reached the concrete slipway and the deserted shoreline. They hadn’t passed a single person on the way down. Joe was the first to speak. “That’s weird. Where the hell did she go?” He looked around the rocky cove. “There’s no way we missed her. Is there another way out of here?”

  May was also confused. “Not as far as I know. The way we came down is the only way in or out of the cove. Maybe she went in one of the houses further along coast road?”

  Joe shook his head. “Didn’t you see the way she was walking? She would’ve had to fly to beat us.”

  He looked around the cove again. At the top of the slipway were a few dilapidated fishermen’s huts and one or two small boats which had obviously been left to ruin. To the left of the slipway, set against the dominating cliff face was a much larger building made from huge granite blocks. The corrugated iron roof was discoloured and rusty but still looked to be intact. He ran his hand through his soaked hair and a fine spray flew up around him.

  “I’m soaked, but intrigued. What say we shelter over there for a while and see if she appears as quickly as she disappeared?”

  May looked to where Joe was pointing. “In there? Are you kidding? It’s decrepit.”

  Joe jumped onto the pebbles and held his hand out to help May down. “Come on humour me. I don’t get out much you know?”

  The pebbles were glossy and in loose piles where the tide had dropped them. She jumped down and landed awkwardly even though she’d taken his hand causing her to fall against him. She found herself holding him longer than was necessary and when she looked up into his eyes she realised she wanted him to reach down, take her face in his hands and kiss her hard on the mouth.

  “Sorry about that.” She released her grip around his waist.

  “No worries. Come on, let’s go and see what that shack’s all about.” He took her hand again and started to walk carefully over the pebbles towards the shack.

  Joe kept his eyes firmly fixed on his footing, trying to use giant boulders as steps. Even though there was no sun, the rain soaked pebbles appeared to shine and glisten under their covering of November rain. It gave them a treacherous lustre.

  After several minutes of precarious tip toeing through the seaweed and rocks they found themselves at the foot of steps leading up to the shack. The door to the shack had long since gone and it looked dark and unwelcoming inside. It gave May an uneasy feeling. “It looks a bit grim.”

  There were no windows inside the shack and it was dark and damp. In one corner someone had lit a long extinguished fire and the blackened remains formed a neat pile, as if waiting for the next guest. The corrugated iron roof amplified the sound of the rain. “I wonder what this was used for?” She asked.

  Joe shrugged “Other than a hideout for smugglers and underage drinkers you mean? At least it’s dry.”

  May laughed. “Old black-beard wouldn’t be seen dead in a place like this.”

  For what seemed like an age they were both silent. Joe shuffled his feet and looked towards the roof of the shack. There was nothing to see, just the corrugated pattern of rusting iron. “It’s a bit disappointing really, I thought there might be more to see.”

  May laughed. “Like what? It’s an old shed!”

  Joe laughed too. “I don’t know? Pirate treasure or something?”

  May pointed at the twisted, empty can of lager beside the blackened ashes. “Like that you mean?”

  Joe looked at the can. “Very funny, but you never know who drank that beer do you? Maybe it was someone with a story to tell. Imagine, the little fire burning, a homeless man crouched, shivering, beside it. Drinking that can of lager, hatching a dark plan to get revenge on his spiteful ex-wife. You never know what stories places like this have to tell.”

  May shook her head. “I think you’re in the right profession with that imagination.”

  Joe laughed before his expression turned serious again. “I suppose you should be getting back to your office? I need to get back to my writing anyway.” The words felt awkward and he grimaced slightly as he spoke. He knew he looked as awkward as he felt.

  “Yes, I suppose so.” May could see the on anxiety on his face. She knew it was because they were alone.

  Joe walked towards the door, as he passed her, she put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  Joe looked down at her hand. “You understand what?”

  She recognised a slight tone to his voice, similar to when they had first met. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant I understand it’s difficult being around people for you.” She tried to lighten the atmosphere. “Let alone a mad journalist who doesn’t know when to shut up.” She removed her hand.

  Joe didn’t know what to say; he hadn’t meant to appear tense or uncomfortable. Up until the point they were alone in the shack he’d felt quite the opposite, he was actually enjoying her company. He looked into her chestnut eyes and at that moment realised that his self-imposed exile had left him yearning for someone like May to come along. Someone exactly like May.

  He reached for her hand and pulled her towards him. “Even when I wasn’t a hermit, I wasn’t very good at this.” He held her gaze and smiled.

  “And what exactly is this?” She allowed him to pull her closer and tried to sound casual but she felt breathless. The steady thump of the rain on the roof beat in time with her pounding heart.

  “It’s me kissing you.” He lowered his head and kissed her lightly on the lips; lingering for just a second before pulling away.

  “And I’m not finished with that yet, not by a long way.” He wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her even closer.

  “Finished with what Mister?”

  “This.” He lowered his head and kissed her again, this time May opened her mouth and their tongues touc
hed.

  May pulled out of the car park. She looked in her rear view mirror as Joe waved once then turned and walked towards his cottage. She screamed, an excited little girl noise which surprised her and made her laugh. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d just kissed someone like that. Probably not since she’d been at school; at an age where there were no expectations of kissing turning into something else. She’d felt that with Joe too; the kissing had been enough. My god, it had been more than enough. Long slow and passionate, their tongues had danced together over and over again. The faint bitterness of coffee on his breath was forgotten in an instant. And when they finally came up for air; the sound of the waves crashing outside and pounding rain on the roof came back into focus; as if those sounds hadn’t existed in the moments before.

  He’d held her hand again on the walk back, not as he had when they stumbled across the pebbles, but with a soft warmth which made her feel like a teenager again. She’d tried very hard not to grin like a fool but it was all she could do to stop herself dancing back up the path. They hadn’t talked much, but when they parted, Joe cupped her face in both his hands and kissed her again, this time gently on the lips. As he pulled away, he had a giant smile on his face and said, “And I’m still not done with that. It might take some time before I am.”