ELEMENTS: Acquiesce

by Kathryn Andrews

  They frolicked in the water, splashing and laughing and then Cordelia dived below the surface, splashing Breck with her tail. When she surfaced, Breck and Cordelia stopped jesting and stared at each other intently. Cordelia swam over to Breck and gently doused his face with salt water. Breck closed his eyes as the water trickled over his long eye lashes. He placed his hands on Cordelia’s waist and pulled her in closer. Her eyes met his chest and she cast her eyes over the water droplets that glistened against his skin. She traced the contours of his broad, muscular shoulders and her hair brushed against his chin. Trembling, Cordelia glanced up. Breck bowed his head and kissed her softly on the lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

  “Let’s not let anything come between us,” whispered Breck.

  “Never,” replied Cordelia.

  Breck scooped Cordelia in his arms and carried her out of the water. Her tail became legs and she stepped down onto the rocks. They dressed before choosing a spot to sit and watch the sea.

  “Why did your aunt strike you?” asked Cordelia eventually.

  “She’s not herself,” said Breck. “She’s a lot on her mind.”

  “That’s no excuse for hurting you,” said Cordelia.

  “She wanted someone to blame.”

  “What for?”

  “Everything. The loss of her family, the failing business.”

  “What will happen to the tavern?”

  Breck shrugged. “The landlord’s given notice. I guess I’ll have to leave.”

  “But what will he do with an empty property?”

  “Who knows. Perhaps he’ll rent it to someone who knows what they’re doing.”

  “Where will you live?”

  “I’d live in a cave if it meant I’d be near you.”

  Cordelia smiled. “What if you could prove the landlord wrong? If you could make a good profit, would he let you stay?”

  “It’s too late,” said Breck.

  “But what if it isn’t? You don’t have to leave for another three weeks.”

  “What difference would it make? Nothing’s changed. Why would the punters come now?”

  “Things have changed. Your aunt and uncle have gone and Flynn’s come back.”

  “I see where this is leading.”

  “Don’t you see? You need him as much as he needs you. People in this town like nothing better than to gossip. They’ll be queuing out the door to catch a glimpse of the fisherman that came back from the dead. What’s more, he’s your father. Give him a chance.”

  “He’s your father,” said Breck.

  “Not really,” said Cordelia.

  Puzzled, Breck asked, “Why do you say that?”

  “He’s not my natural father. If he was then we’d be related, but we’re not.”

  “Oh. That would be weird.”

  “But it’s not weird is it, because he’s not my real father.”

  “But you love him as your father, you shouldn’t deny him that.”

  “You’re not listening,” complained Cordelia. “If I acknowledge him as my real father then I can’t be with you. People would say it was incest.”

  “Since when did you care what people think?”

  “I care what Flynn thinks.”

  “And what does he think?”

  “He sees us both as his children. Siblings.”

  “But we’re not,” said Breck.

  “I know.”

  “Does he know about us?”

  Cordelia shook her head.

  Breck ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing’s ever simple is it?”

  “Let’s make a vow,” suggested Cordelia, standing, “right here on these rocks.”

  “A vow?”

  Cordelia leaned forward and took Breck’s hands in hers, pulling him to his feet. “A vow that we will never be parted.”

  Standing on the shimmering rocks and bathed in sunlight with only the elements as their witnesses, the pair held hands as they made their vows.

  Breck looked lovingly into Cordelia’s eyes and said “I, Breck Braden Kelly promise to love you until the end of our days and let nothing come between us.”

  His words took Cordelia’s breath away and then she replied, “I, Cordelia, daughter of the sea,” she smiled and laughed a little before clearing her throat to compose herself, “promise to love you for the rest of our days, until the stars fade and the tides stop turning and I will let nothing come between us.”

  They sealed their vows with a kiss and walked hand in hand back to their horses.

  “Shall I tell Flynn you’re ready to talk?” asked Cordelia, untying Réalta from the post.

  “I suppose there’s no harm in talking,” said Breck.

  The young lovers ambled back to town, riding side by side. They attracted attention from the town folk as they rode along the seafront. Breck returned to the tavern and Cordelia continued the journey to the lighthouse to fetch Flynn.

  Flynn rose from his chair when Cordelia burst into his chamber. “Any luck?” he asked, hopefully.

  Cordelia smiled widely, “He’s agreed to talk, though he looks a bit worse for wear.”

  “In what way?”

  “He’s two black eyes.”

  “Bar fights now is it?”

  “Not exactly,” said Cordelia, “his aunt struck him with a saucepan.”

  “The woman wants locking up,” said Flynn.

  “She’s gone to America, left him alone and destitute. He needs you more than ever.”

  “And you think I can fix everything?”

  “He’s facing eviction from the tavern, we have to try at least. He’s three weeks to make it work.”

  SIXTEEN

  CELEBRATIONS

  That evening after dinner, Cordelia and Flynn arrived at the tavern. Keeping a low profile they knocked at the back door. Breck took a deep breath, brushed himself down and opened the door.

  “Come in,” he said.

  “I see you’ve been tidying,” said Cordelia, her eyes wandering around the kitchen.

  “Thought I’d make a start,” said Breck. He avoided eye contact with Flynn and an awkward silence filled the air.

  “That looks painful,” said Flynn, eventually.

  “Ah, it’s nothing. You should see the other guy,” said Breck.

  Flynn smiled sympathetically. “We’re here to help, if you want us to.”

  Breck nodded.

  Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Cordelia handed Flynn a duster and chirped, “Let’s get started then.”

  Together they dusted, polished and spruced the place up. Cordelia swept the floor, Flynn washed the windows and Breck restocked the bar. Within a few hours everything was ready.

  “Get a good night’s sleep,” said Flynn. “You’ll need it if you’re to stand behind that bar tomorrow.”

  Having spoken very little all evening, Breck finally mustered a few words, “Thank you, both of you.”

  The following morning at precisely eleven o’clock, Breck opened the tavern. A steady stream of customers came to the tavern throughout that week and word gradually circulated the town of the fisherman who’d returned from the dead. By the weekend the weather was warmer and visitors flocked to Kilfearagh from Limerick, Ennis and Kilrush to fill their lungs with clean, sea air. The influx of tourists brought an undesirable trade to the town; fallen women lurked in the alley ways and side streets. Women who’d lost their husbands during the hunger, single mothers trying to earn a wage to feed their children, women who could find no alternative employment. Prostitution seemed their only option. It was that or the workhouse but the workhouse paid their wages with food, not money and they could not pay rent with food. Breck and Flynn worked day and night behind the bar, serving customers and telling tall tales. Had they told the truth about themselves or the things they’d seen, nobody would have believed them. On Sunday evening the following week, Breck counted the takings.

  “How did we do?” asked Flynn.

  “We did okay
, but it’s not enough,” replied Breck. “It’s not even half of what I need to pay the rent, never mind buy food and replace the stock.”

  “We’ve still got two weeks,” said Flynn. His eye caught sight of a covered piano in the corner. “That’s it!” he said. “This place needs music.”

  “D’you play?” asked Breck.

  Flynn shook his head. “Can you?”

  “No.”

  “Then we’ll find someone who can,” said Flynn, his voice filled with determination.

  They placed an advertisement in the window for a piano player but nobody responded to the ad, not until the following Friday when Jerry stumbled into the tavern.

  “Did you find anyone to tinkle your keys yet?” asked Jerry.

  Breck and Flynn looked bemused.

  “The piano,” said Jerry.

  “Oh, no, not yet,” replied Breck.

  “Do you play?” asked Flynn.

  “I can play the fiddle,” said Jerry, pulling one out of his bag.

  “Be our guest,” said Flynn perching on a bar stool.

  To their surprise, Jerry played the liveliest, ambient music they had ever heard and wide beams appeared on their faces as the punters started tapping their feet and hands in time with the music.

  “You kept that talent hidden,” said Flynn when Jerry had finished playing.

  “Am I hired?” asked Jerry.

  “I’ll give you a week’s trial,” said Breck. “Come back tonight at six.”

  That evening the tavern was packed with punters reveling in music and drink. The place had never been so alive. Every night after that the crowds poured in through the tavern door, there was music and dancing, slurred talking and laughter. When Cordelia’s lessons were over each day she practised her diving for the competition and would sometimes ride into town to meet Flynn at the end of his shift, but not before stealing a kiss from Breck at the back door. Life was looking brighter all round and a constant stream of money poured into the till. On Thursday 28th April, the day before the notice period was up, Breck counted the takings.

  “We’ve done it!” he exclaimed. “There’s more than enough here.” Overjoyed, Breck leapt to his feet and hugged his father. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Flynn slapped Breck on the back and smiled. “You did good boy.”

  “You know, I was thinking,” said Breck, “it seems daft you coming and going each day. Did you want to move in?”

  Flynn’s eyes lit up. “I’d be honoured,” he said.

  “Ahem, I hate to break up a party but will you be requiring my services again?” asked Jerry.

  “As long as we’re not evicted tomorrow, consider yourself hired,” said Breck.

  They celebrated well into the small hours, drinking and talking until they could keep their eyes open no longer.

  A loud pounding woke Breck from his sleep. He half opened one eye and the loud pounding came again.

  “Open up!” called a deep voice on the tavern steps. “We’re here to carry out the eviction process and secure these premises.”

  Breck peeled his face off the bar and stumbled from his stool.

  “What’s all the noise?” asked Flynn, holding his head.

  “They’re here to evict us,” said Breck.

  Flynn jumped up and stood beside Breck who clutched a brown, crumpled envelope.

  The loud knocking came again. “Open up or we’ll break the door!”

  “Alright, we’re coming!” said Flynn, unbolting the door.

  “I hereby…”

  Breck handed over the brown envelope.

  “What’s this?” asked the large man on the doorstep.

  “Everything that’s owed plus two month’s rent up front.”

  Breck’s heart raced beneath his chest and he breathed through pursed lips to calm himself.

  “I see. I’ll have to check with the landlord of course, see if he still wants you out.”

  “He wants money doesn’t he? There’s his money,” said Flynn, pointing to the envelope. “If he throws us out he’ll have nothing but an empty building.”

  “I’ll have an answer for you before the close of business today. Good day to you.”

  Breck and Flynn anxiously awaited their fate. By the time Cordelia had finished lessons that day they still hadn’t heard a word.

  “You didn’t come back to the lighthouse last night,” she said to Flynn.

  “Ah, no. We were celebrating and it got a bit late.”

  Cordelia’s eyes widened, “You raised enough money?”

  Flynn nodded.

  Cordelia turned to Breck whose expression was blank. “Well that celebration was short lived.”

  “We don’t know the outcome, the landlord may still want us out,” said Breck.

  “When will you find out?” asked Cordelia.

  “By close of business today.”

  “What time is it?” asked Cordelia.

  Breck took out his pocket watch, “It’s half past four.”

  “There’s nothing we can do now,” said Flynn, “we just have to wait.”

  The next thirty minutes was the slowest half hour of Breck’s life. At precisely five o’clock a large hand pounded on the tavern door. Breck leapt to his feet and opened the door. The large man had returned with a letter and handed it to Breck.

  “The landlord has reinstated your tenancy,” said the man.

  Breck smiled with relief.

  “Failure to meet payment deadlines in future will result in eviction. Is that clear?”

  “Crystal,” said Breck and he closed the door.

  Cordelia and Breck rushed into each other’s arms and Breck spun Cordelia around.

  “It’s good to see you two getting on so well,” said Flynn, unaware of the romance between them.

  That Friday night the tavern did a roaring trade and Cordelia danced until her feet hurt.

  It was almost midnight when Cordelia and Flynn crept into the lighthouse.

  “Where do you think you’ve been until this hour?” snapped Morwen Vanora.

  Cordelia jumped with fright. “Why are you loitering in the dark?” she asked defensively.

  “You wreak of tobacco and ale.”

  Flynn sniggered at being told off like a naughty school boy.

  “You’ve been drawing attention to yourselves in town, haven’t you? If you’ve given us away I’ll…”

  “We haven’t given anything away,” said Flynn. “May I suggest a glass of ether, it might loosen you up a little or at the very least you might crack a smile.”

  Cordelia laughed.

  “How dare you!” snapped Morwen. “I think you’ve outstayed your welcome.”

  “Then it’s a good job I’ve made alternative arrangements,” said Flynn.

  “You have?” asked Cordelia.

  “I was going to talk to you tomorrow but now seems as good a time as any. Breck’s asked me to move in with him.”

  “Oh, that’s great,” said Cordelia, her heart sinking a little.

  “I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow,” called Flynn to Morwen as he walked along the tunnels with Cordelia.

  Morwen’s mouth opened and closed several times without saying a word.

  After breakfast the next morning, Flynn said his goodbyes to Triton and Mazu and thanked them for their hospitality.

  “It was our pleasure,” said Mazu, opening the lighthouse door. The bright sunlight almost blinded them as they stepped outside.

  “Cordelia is a special young lady,” added Triton. “A friend of hers is a friend of ours.”

  “I can’t thank you enough,” said Flynn, “for everything you’ve done, for both of us. Cordelia’s in good hands here.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” said Mazu.

  “Will you come to the tavern Cordelia?” asked Flynn.

  “Maybe later,” said Cordelia, “I’ve a few things to do here first.”

  “If you’re sure,” said Flynn, “you don’t want to spen
d all weekend in school.”

  Cordelia smiled half heartedly. Sensing the tension, Flynn stepped forward and hugged Cordelia.

  “It’s for the best,” he said, “I’m only a stone’s throw away, you can visit whenever you want.”

  Cordelia nodded and smiled, willing Flynn to hurry up and leave. Her eyes burned as she fought back the tears. Then she watched him walk away. Mazu placed a hand on Cordelia’s shoulder and aquamarine tears fell to the ground. Cordelia continued to smile as Flynn turned around and waved. She and her guardians waved back. Once Flynn was out of sight, Mazu helped Cordelia to pick out the gemstones from between the blades of grass and they went back indoors.

  “I know it’s hard,” said Mazu, “but Flynn’s right. It’s for the best.”

  “Now that you know he’s safe, perhaps you’ll be able to focus your mind on other important events,” said Triton.

  Cordelia shot daggers at Triton with her eyes.

  “It’s no good looking at me like that,” said Triton. “If you want a reason to go to Meren, apart from the one you already have then you need to place in the diving championships.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to go to Meren,” said Cordleia.

  “We both know that’s not true,” said Triton and he turned on his heel and walked away through the tunnels.

  “Here,” said Mazu, tipping aquamarine gemstones into Cordelia’s palm.

  “I don’t see the point in these either,” said Cordelia. “What use do I have for them?”

  “Gosh, someone’s irritable today,” said Mazu.

  Cordelia frowned.

  “In time you’ll be glad of these,” said Mazu, folding Cordelia’s fingers over the stones. “Keep them safe.”

  “They always come with such heartache,” moaned Cordelia.

  “One day they will ease your heartache,” said Mazu. “Take Triton’s advice, focus your mind on the diving and everything will fall into place.” She rubbed Cordelia’s arm affectionately and walked away.

  Cordelia returned to her chamber and tipped the gemstones into the glass jar.

  “If the wind changes, your face will stay like that,” said Nixie, wryly.

  Cordelia slumped down on the edge of her bed and rested her head in her hands.