My Name Is Echo

by Marguerite Valentine

  When he said that I was choked. I just didn’t know what to say. He was an orphan. Even if he had been adopted and his adopters wanted him, it didn’t take away the fact that his own mum left him while he was tiny and his father had abandoned both of them. And none of it was his fault.

  He stared at me and said, ‘What about you, what about your dad?’

  ‘I’m like you. I don’t know my father. My mum won’t talk about him, so I don’t know what he was like or why he went, or where he is, or anything about him. She gets upset if I ask, so I keep my mouth shut. There’s no point. I get on her nerves, and she’s said so often I’m difficult, that I believe her now, so I keep out of her way and keep my mouth shut. That way I don’t piss her off.’

  Ifan said ‘So your dad, he’s done a runner just like mine.’ I must have had a weird expression on my face, because he said, ‘It’s alright, don’t be sad.’ I didn’t think I was sad, but I didn’t say that. He turned his face away so I couldn’t see him, then he said, ‘We’re both the same. We have useless fathers.’

  ‘I suppose so, but my mum said it didn’t matter what he was like, because she’d make it up to me.’

  Ifan stared. ‘Make it up to you? What the fuck does that mean? She’s not a man, is she, so how can she be like your father?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Who knows what she means and who cares anyway?’

  Then I did get upset and Ifan must have noticed because he acted as if he wanted to make it up to me. He grabbed my hand and said, ‘Have you finished eating? Because two weeks ago I found something along the river washed up by the tide and I’ve made a boat out of it. I’ve been saving it to show you.’ I’d been sitting on a log and he pulled me up and said, ‘Come on, get up, quick. We need our bikes. We’ll have to cycle to get there.’

  He led and I followed, and by the time we got our bikes and had cycled along the road and track, we were out of breath and red faced. We came to a stop along a part of the river where it was shallow and he showed me two big, empty drums, which he’d pulled out of the water and on to the grass. They must have floated off one of the boats in the Bristol Channel. He looked proud as he pointed out what he’d made.

  ‘You see this? It’s a pontoon and it’s based on my research. I went to the big library in Cardiff and looked at different types of boats.’

  ‘It looks like an ordinary boat to me. Or is it a raft?’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not ordinary. It’s a special type of boat.’

  ‘What’s that name on the side?’

  ‘Baranov 1. That’s my dad’s name, he was an engineer and that’s what I want to be.’

  ‘Oh,’ was all I said. He’d probably made that bit up.

  ‘Look, can you see how it’s made? I got the driftwood, lashed them together, then tied them to the two oil drums and then I placed them parallel to each other. They act as floats. Then I connected them with the plank so two people can sit together as it floats down the river. It’s a prototype. What do you think?’

  I looked at it. As he’d been talking I’d felt my eyes glazing over but in a month of Sundays, I’d never have said that to him. ‘I’m impressed, but what next, what are you going to do with it?

  It wouldn’t have occurred to me what he was about to suggest.

  ‘Well, I thought I’d get some improvised oars, then we could push it on the water, and paddle over to the other side, to England.’

  I looked across. England seemed a long way away and the river was a filthy brown colour and running fast. I was doubtful. It looked scary. ‘It’s dangerous,’ I said.

  ‘Echo, you’re a spoilsport, I thought you were different from other girls.’

  That challenged me. I glared at him. ‘Okay, well maybe… It’s a brilliant idea. But what if we fall off and we’re swept out to sea and drown? Then what? Can you swim?

  ‘That won’t happen. I can swim,’ he said, ‘but can you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I can swim because my mum used to take me to Hampstead Ladies’ Pond.’

  Ifan burst out laughing and said, ‘Hampstead Ladies’ Pond. Where’s that? You’re no lady,’ and when he said that, I pushed him in the water. It was only shallow but he got saturated. He struggled out and said, ‘Right, I’m going to get you, so you’d better run fast.’

  I started screaming really loudly, ‘Help, help. I’m being attacked. Somebody, come. I’m going to be killed.’ I ran away through the trees and down the path but I was laughing as well. He came after me until he caught up with me, then he dragged me to a shallow part of the river and pushed me in. I was soaking now, like him. We stood looking at each other.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ I said, ‘my clothes are clinging to me. They’ll take ages to dry. We’d better go home and change.’

  Ifan looked at me but then he said, ‘Just take off your clothes now.’

  ‘And wear what?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. Who do you think we are? Adam and

  Eve? I’m not doing that. I’m going home now.’

  Ifan said, ‘Okay, if that’s what you want, but are you still up for the experiment on the raft tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but tomorrow I’ll wear my bathers underneath, just in case, and so should you.’

  ‘Whatever,’ he said, ‘and don’t forget to look for some oars, but don’t tell anyone. This has to be secret. If they find out they’ll try and stop us.’

  I cycled off back to the farm. It was quiet when I got there. Perhaps they were having a siesta. I had no idea where everyone was, but I could see Gareth sitting under the trees in the apple orchard in his favourite ladder-back chair with the rush seat. He’d been drinking cider. I could see that by the empty bottles, but he was also surrounded with pages of writing lying on the grass which he’d weighed down with a stone to stop them blowing away.

  I walked over, smiled at him, said, ‘Hello,’ and asked what he was doing. He said he was writing. I asked what about, and he said, ‘Life.’

  I didn’t know what to say to that so I just said, ‘It sounds private.’

  ‘Yes, until I’ve finished,’ he replied. Then he noticed I was wet. ‘Why are you wet?’

  I didn’t tell him. I said I’d fallen in the water at the estuary and had come back to change into dry clothes, and because I could see he wanted to be on his own but was too polite to tell me, I said, ‘See you later then,’ and went to go in the house.

  As I was walking away he called out, ‘By the way, where did you fall in?’ I turned round and said, ‘Along the river. Past the estuary. Know where I mean?’ He nodded, so I said, ‘Well, it was there.’

  He said, ‘You should be really careful. Do you know how strong the tidal current is? It sweeps in from the Bristol Channel and it can be dangerous.’

  ‘Thanks, Gareth, yes, I’ll be very careful.’ He was looking at me doubtfully so I said, ‘I’m off for a rest now.’

  I went to my bedroom, pulled off my wet clothes, and crawled into bed. I fell asleep straightaway and didn’t even wake for supper. No one called me down. Perhaps they thought I’d eaten already but I didn’t mind. They must have come in late but that meant in the morning I’d have the kitchen to myself.

  I woke early the next day and went down for breakfast. I hadn’t expected to find anyone up but Gareth was already sitting at the kitchen table eating scrambled egg on toast and reading a book propped up against the trilby hat he’d taken off the ostrich.

  He looked up. ‘How you doing, Echo?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine, thanks and what about you, how’s your magnum opus going?’

  He laughed. ‘Still working on it. It takes time.’ He put a slice of toast in the toaster, and said, ‘So what are your plans for the day?’

  I was pleased he was interested but I didn’t tell him about the pontoon oil drum and our plans. I just said, ‘N
ot much. Meeting a friend and we’re going to have a picnic by the river.’ He didn’t say any more other than, ‘Well, have a good time,’ and returned to his reading, which meant I could get on with making the sandwiches without any hindrance.

  The fridge was always stuffed with food. I picked some cheese and buttered some thick multi-seeded bread my mum had bought from some trendy bakers who called themselves artisans. Just like London, I thought, everybody has to make up some crap to make themselves exciting and different. I made a huge doorstep for Ifan and me and then put that into a brown paper bag with an apple and banana. Everything fitted into my bike basket.

  I said goodbye to Gareth and went outside to see what the weather was like. It was fresh, a little cool but it was going to be another lovely day. I stood wondering if I’d forgotten anything. I’d remembered to put my bathers on and wondered whether to pack a towel too but in the end I decided not to, basically because I couldn’t be bothered to go upstairs again.

  I fitted my basket on to the front of the bike but as I started to wheel it through the field, I realised I’d forgotten the oars. I didn’t know where to look for them and, although I could go back and ask Gareth, he’d want to know why and I didn’t want him to know because, as Ifan said, we’d be stopped from going on the river. I thought the best place to start looking would be in one of the outbuildings so I propped my bike against the farm gate and ran back.

  I’d been inside this particular outbuilding before and it was full of things: tools, discarded furniture, spare engine parts, horse-riding gear, empty flower pots, gardening tools, but I’d never noticed oars. As I pushed open the massive doors, I saw straight in front a canoe hanging on hooks drilled into the wall and tucked inside were two paddles. I couldn’t believe my luck. These would be ideal and far better than anything improvised. I pulled them out, tied them to my bike rack with some rope and set off down the deserted country lanes. It was still early. As I cycled away I stood on my pedals to get up some speed, and I heard Gareth shout ‘Ciao.’ I looked over my shoulder. He was standing in the kitchen doorway drinking his coffee, watching me.

  Ifan was waiting in the den when I got there. As soon as he saw me, he said, ‘I’ve looked at the tide and it’s coming in, so we can’t be swept out to sea.’

  ‘Ifan, Gareth told me yesterday the river’s dangerous. It’s the current; it’s powerful, he said.’

  ‘You didn’t tell him our plans?’

  ‘No, he only said that because he saw I was wet from when you pushed me in.’

  ‘You pushed me first… I know it’s dangerous but I’ve lived here most of my life. We’ll be alright. The worst time is when there’s a spring tide. It rushes inland from the Bristol Channel, but that’s not now.’

  He sounded so knowledgeable I didn’t like to show my ignorance by asking what a spring tide was. I showed him the paddles I’d got. He was well pleased and said they were ‘perfect’.

  The plan was to sit next to each other on the raft and paddle across to the other side. I was really excited. We set off towards the river and found the raft. It was still in the same place where we’d hidden it. I took a look at the river. The water was racing past and the other side was a long way away. The reality of what we were about to do hit me. I was getting nervous. If we fell in, we’d have to swim for it but the water was moving so fast, it was scary.

  I turned to Ifan and said, ‘Did you remember to put your bather on under your clothes?’ He nodded but he was staring across to the other side. It looked like he was in a dream. I said, ‘Come on then, let’s get ready and take our clothes off. You’re not scared are you?’ He gave me a strange look. I thought maybe he’d forgotten to put them on after all. ‘You have got your them on, haven’t you?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘have you?’

  ‘Of course I have. I’m waiting for you. You go first.’

  He didn’t move. I thought he was playing around. I was smiling, he wasn’t. He looked deadly serious, standing there just staring at me. I caught hold of his shirt, unbuttoned it, and pulled it off. He stood in his beige shorts. He was still not moving.

  ‘You’re like a dummy, Ifan, what’s wrong with you?’

  He said, ‘Nothing. You’ve taken off my shirt. Now I want you to take off your top.’

  That took me by surprise. It was the expression in his eyes. He was looking straight at me and seemed more serious, more intense than I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure what was going on because he’d never spoken to me like that before. I hesitated, then lifting my arms up I slowly pulled off my t-shirt and stood in my bather. It was an ordinary one-piece blue bather, the one I wore at school when we went swimming. Nothing special to look at. He was still staring intensely at me.

  ‘Now your bather and your jeans. Take them off too.’

  ‘But…I’ll have nothing on.’

  ‘That’s what I want. I want to see you, you know, what you look like underneath. We’re friends. Just once, please, Echo.’

  I was intrigued. I hesitated for a moment, wondering whether I should, then I did it. I stepped out of my jeans, tugged at my bathers, pulled down the top half, and wriggled out. I stood naked in front of him. I felt the grass under my bare feet and the cool air on my skin. I felt intensely shy. I could see him looking at my breasts and when I looked down at myself, my nipples had become erect. He stood for a moment staring. I watched his eyes looking intently at my face, my mouth, my breasts, my body. No boy had seen me naked before, but seeing myself through his eyes made me self-conscious. I hid myself with my hands.

  He moved slowly towards me until he was close. He said, ‘You’re very beautiful.’ He kissed me.

  It was my first proper kiss. It was a French kiss. I’d heard about them from my mates but they hadn’t said how it would feel. It was strange. I felt his tongue in my mouth and all kinds of sensations flooded through my body. It was overwhelming. I had had no idea how powerful a kiss could be, but it felt good. Then he pulled away, stood back and stared at me.

  ‘Ifan.’ I looked him straight in the eye. ‘Don’t stop. Kiss me again. Like you just did. Like that.’

  He didn’t answer. His breathing was fast. He was looking deep into my eyes. He was so close I could feel the heat of his body. He stroked my face, ran his fingers through my hair, touched my breast, my nipples, my body and closing his eyes, took hold of my hand and guided it inside his shorts. As I touched him, he came. But then he turned away and stood with his back to me as if he was ashamed. I sensed he was crying.

  For several minutes I didn’t know what to do or say but I pulled my bather back on in case someone was watching. I took a quick look round but there was no one.

  He said, ‘I’m sorry, Echo, I shouldn’t have done that.’

  I put my arms round him. ‘It’s okay… I liked it and I like you, and it doesn’t matter, because no one will ever know. I won’t tell. It’s a secret.’

  Maybe I loved him, but I couldn’t say that. He stood looking at me but suddenly became businesslike. ‘We need to get across the river.’ He was smiling now.

  I was curious, I said, ‘Just a minute, before we go, how did you know what to do, how to kiss? You must have done it with someone else before me?’

  He was laughing and said, ‘No.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  He looked serious again and looking straight at me, he said, ‘No, I haven’t. Well, not like that. You’re the first. I didn’t know that was going to happen. I mean, sorry, that came out wrong, when I saw you this morning, standing by the water, well, it’s natural, isn’t it?’

  He took a step towards me, then stopped himself, so

  I didn’t know what he’d been about to say.

  I said, ‘I’m your first. You’re my first. So, what were you going to say or do?’

  ‘Nothing. I wasn’t going to say or do anything. We need to cross the river.
’

  I said, ‘Okay,’ but I was disappointed. He was pulling the pontoon closer to the river and as he stood up, he glanced at me. I looked at him and I thought I’ll get my own back, catch him by surprise, the way he had me, and when he was least expecting it.

  I walked over towards him, all casual like, then I kissed him full on the mouth with my arms wrapped round him and pressed so tight against him, I felt the heat and shape of his body all over again. I also made sure he could feel mine. I had my response. He had a hard-on. He didn’t pull away, not straightaway but he looked so startled, I had to laugh.

  I said, ‘Now you know how I felt. So don’t forget, it can work both ways,’ and I stuck my tongue out at him. He looked at me in that way of his. That was the moment in my life when I recognised my potential power to get what I wanted or that’s what I thought, but all he said was, ‘Stop messing around. Let’s get the pontoon out.’

  He was determined not to give in, I could see that, but it didn’t matter. I was happy. Happier than I’d ever been. The feelings that had flooded through my body were new and exciting. I’d always wondered if I was ugly, but Ifan didn’t think I was and Ifan was more important to me than anybody. He saw me as beautiful and he wanted to be close and touch me and that made me feel good.

  I helped him pull the raft into the water and neither of us said a word. I think he was embarrassed but I wasn’t. My mind was still with what had just happened. I kept looking at him but he took no notice. He just said it was time to go and to sit on the raft.

  He pushed it away from the river bank, then jumped on it. The raft floated alright. At first we drifted gently along under the trees but then it got caught in a protruding tree root, and we came to a halt. It started spinning, going round in circles – slowly, slowly, slowly, round and round. We looked at each other. We were stuck in an eddy and going nowhere.

  Ifan seemed to know what to do. He pushed the paddle with all his strength against the bank until the raft floated free. We began a faltering path towards the middle of the river. It seemed to meander in a diagonal direction until we were halfway across. We took a look around. We were a long way from either bank and surrounded by fast-flowing deep water, but the sky was blue and the sun warm. I smiled; I was looking forward to landing in England.