by Various
“We were visiting Ida. That orange and white house is hers. Anyway, Dad was in the garden. I used to sit in that truck all the time, listening to music and pretending I was driving. He hadn’t bothered to turn the truck off, and I knocked it into reverse. Went right out into the harbour there.”
She pointed to an embankment with about a ten foot drop into the ocean.
“Were you hurt?”
“No. More scared than anything. I didn’t get my license until I was twenty-six.”
She continued her trip down memory lane until they reached the community wharf—the government wharf, as she called it.
“How are you at bailing out a boat?”
The vessel in question was a small fiberglass open fishing boat, about twenty feet long. It looked like it had seen better days. He’d never been in a boat as small as that. In fact, his boating experiences were limited to yachts that were tied up on the Thames. Suck it up, buttercup.
She climbed down the side of the wharf and jumped into the boat. It rocked furiously.
“Toss me down everything before you come down here,” she said.
He supposed he should take pride in her total confidence in his abilities. She didn’t seem to consider for a second that this might be an entirely foreign experience for him. Best to keep her thinking he knew what he was doing.
Once she’d taken the gear from him, she turned to fill the motor with gas. He stood on the worn, wooden planks of the wharf and watched her deftly move around.
“Come on,” she said, smiling up at him. “It’s a beautiful day on the water. Hardly a bit of wind. Should be a nice run over to Gull Rock.”
Do or die time. He turned to climb down the side the way she had. It was like climbing down a ladder, only the rungs were made of pieces of wood that looked like someone had taken an axe to them in places. He cautiously put one foot on the side of the boat. It started to tip. He was stuck there, one leg on the side of the boat, his other glued to the wharf, as were both his hands.
“Don’t step there! Step on the seat.” She leaned over the other side of the boat to try and keep it fairly level.
He felt like an idiot. This time he did it correctly and promptly sat in the middle of the boat. His intention was not to move unless she told him to.
“Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“Well, I did just feel like my body was about to split in half. A new sensation for me, you know.”
“Have you been in an open boat before?”
Time for that honesty she professed to prefer.
“I’m not really the boating type.”
She leaned over and kissed his nose. “Don’t worry. I’m a better boater than I am a driver. You’re in good hands. Now, turn around, unfasten the bolt on that little door there and take out our life jackets.”
For some reason, that didn’t make him feel any better.
Once he’d pulled the fasteners of the bright orange jacket tight, she had him sit in the centre of the boat. “You’re going to love this,” she said, her face glowing with excitement.
He wasn’t sure about the boat ride, but he was certainly loving watching her in control. She deftly pulled the motor over in one strong stroke, adjusted her red Tilly hat, and they were off. They started out slowly, and he was able to get a view of Heart’s Ease that was breathtaking. You didn’t see it so much when you were driving through, but the place was essentially built into the hillside. He could imagine people choosing where to build based on where there were no rocks jutting up from the ground, or no cliff faces. The houses were all brightly coloured. Reds, blues, yellows, oranges, some multi-coloured, like Aunt Ida’s. He’d wondered before about the assortment of colours, but from the water it was a beautiful sight. Each house was like a jewel nestled in the land. And above them all stood the inn. It was stately, and Cam understood Elsie’s desire to fix it up and bring it to life. He could imagine how it looked when she had started, grey and decrepit, bringing down the entire town. Elsie had told him before that once she’d fixed up the inn, a lot of people had repainted their own homes. Now he could see why.
He pulled out his sketchbook, hoping to roughly outline the town, but that was at the same time Elsie revved the motor. The bow of the boat began to rise out of the water as she increased her speed. Soon the boat was hitting the waves, causing it to bounce along the surface like a skimming rock.
From time to time she’d point out things that he longed to sketch, but there was no time. Elsie was on a mission. Since he had his book out, he sketched the only breathtaking thing in constant line of sight. Countless times over the past week he’d longed to draw her deliciously emotive face. When she was angry. Pensive. Sleeping. Eating. Post-coital. But he realized at this moment he was seeing her at complete ease, filled with peace and excitement. Her eyes were greener than he’d ever seen them. Her cheeks and nose were red from the cold wind, which also made her eyes water. A piece of her glorious mahogany hair had blown free and was streaking across her chin. It was the most beautiful he had ever seen her.
He sketched furiously and was surprised when she released the throttle and slowed the boat.
“You’re looking the wrong way.” She turned the boat so that he could see, and cut the motor.
Looming out of the water was a huge jagged rock, about the height of a ten-storey building. Overhead a myriad of birds swooped and crested in the wind. He hadn’t noticed the sound over the motor, but now it was all around them. A cacophony of the soft purring uurrr’s of turrs underlay the screeching of the herring gulls and a hundred more varieties of birds.
It was both frightening and awe-inspiring at the same time.
“Get ready for this,” she said, pulling a small white bucket out of the pack.
“Holy shit. What is that?”
The reek that came out of the bucket was putrid.
“Fish guts,” she said, tossing them overboard.
The first bird to spot the bait, a small puffin, dropped from the sky in a death-defying dive, plunging beneath the water, presumably spearing a treat as he dove. At least Cam hoped the poor thing did, given its tenacity.
It was followed quickly by another, a gull this time, he thought. And then another and another until it was raining birds, and feathers. If one bird was lucky enough to have speared some food, another tried to steal it from its beak. It was awesome and terrifying all at once.
“Start drawing,” Elsie said. “No telling how long the show will last. Even when the food is gone they’ll hang close for a bit hoping for more, but still...”
While he furiously sketched, she poured coffee into thermal mugs and then wrapped herself in one of the blankets. The boat slowly drifted further away from the rock, but the birds remained close by.
When Elsie offered him a small sandwich, an enterprising gull tried to swipe it from him. He gave up and tossed it into the water.
“I’m fine with coffee.”
Elsie erupted with laughter. He smiled. “Yes. I am a coward. Never knew that about myself until now. Then again, I was never adrift on the ocean before with a scene from Hitchcock’s “The Birds” playing itself out overhead.”
She slowly moved her way to the bow of boat, standing behind him. “Keep drawing,” she said. “I didn’t go through all this effort just to have you waste it eating and gabbing.”
But she made it difficult to concentrate. She slowly massaged his shoulders as he continued to sketch. It was both a relief to his tense shoulders, and a distraction. “If you keep this up I’m not going to get anything drawn.”
“If you keep working, I’ll give you a very big reward,” she said, nibbling his ear.
After about five minutes he’d had enough. “That’s it, woman.” He shoved his book into the backpack and pulled her onto his lap. “A man can only resist for so long.”
“But I was trying to help you relax so you could draw more.”
“You were trying to see how much I could put up with, more like it.”
“Well, I told you that I’d get you back.”
“When?”
“The first time we made love.”
Made love. She was right. They’d never just had sex. He was recognizing the subtle differences between the two, and he had definitely spent the past few days making love to this woman.
“Have you ever made love in a boat?”
“No. Then again, you’re the first man I’ve been in a boat with that I’m not related to, so that’s a good thing.”
“Want to give it a try?”
“Seems a shame not to, doesn’t it?”
She ran her tongue down his neck, before nibbling on his collarbone.
Cam felt goosebumps follow the same path, the biting air only half the reason for the delicious chill.
He lifted her face to meet his, staring into her eyes, willing her to see everything that he was just not ready to say. It turned into a lingering stare, neither of them willing to break the trance.
Tell her how you feel...But I don’t know how I feel...You do...I don’t…
This was not the time for him to have a fictional argument with his sister.
“Elsie,” he whispered as softly as he could. “You amaze me.”
“I do?”
“You have no idea.”
“Tell me.”
“Oh, I want to. I’m just not good with words. Not these kind of words, anyhow.”
She stroked his face with tenderness and kissed his brow. “I’m not the best with them either.”
She nestled her head on his shoulder, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Cam was filled with a deep-rooted desire to hold her close to him forever. It was a moment to savour. The only sounds were their breathing and the soft lap of water as it gently caressed the underbelly of the boat. They’d drifted away from the birds. They were the only two people in the universe.
“I could stay like this for an eternity,” she said, snuggling closer. “I feel so small in your arms, and yet, more complete.”
I’m going to do it. It’s just three words. I can say them.
“Elsie...”
“Mmmmm?”
“I feel rain.”
Not the three words he’d intended. But in just the few minutes they’d been lost in each other, grey clouds had blown in. And the wind was starting to pick up.
Elsie nearly pitched out of his arms. “It’s going to be a rough ride back. I need you to sit closer up in the bow for ballast. And hold on.”
The ride back to Heart’s Ease wasn’t exactly harrowing, but there were a few times when he thought he was going to freeze to death. Where the wild wind and freezing rain came from was beyond him. The weather had changed in an instant.
When he wasn’t wiping water out of his eyes, and holding on for dear life as Elsie opened the throttle wide, flying just ahead of the worst of the squall, he was gripped in fascination at how capable she was at getting them home. As they motored into the harbour the wind was gusting. He could pick out a few vehicles waiting on the wharf.
“Grab that rope,” Elsie directed, “and toss it up to Dad.”
Cam was relieved to see George Walsh. He was freezing, and could only imagine how cold Elsie was. The last thing they needed was to walk back to the house.
“Go get in the truck,” Cam said, “I’ll get our stuff.”
He’d expected her to offer at least a token protest, but instead she scampered up the side of the wharf.
It took about five minutes under George’s direction, but they had the boat safely moored. He was also slightly aware of men with cameras documenting their actions, but if they wanted to stay out in the freezing rain and wind, that was their prerogative. His was to get Elsie warm and dry.
TWELVE
The freezing rain had turned to snow, and the wind was whipping the house so hard that it shuddered. Cam was somewhere in the house talking to his sister, who’d arrived while they were out. Asher was sitting in the corner of the living room, strumming his guitar. Her mother and father and Ida were in the games room playing cribbage. There were no paparazzi around, since Ida had charged them next to nothing to stay at her house. And Elsie was stretched out on the sofa reading a book and trying her best not to fall asleep. Between the quiet sounds of the guitar and the crack and hiss of the fireplace, it was hard to keep her eyes open.
She was content. Her house was full of people that mattered. Even Asher counted. At some point he’d become more friend to her than lover. And she also realized that what he ultimately wanted from her was friendship as well.
“You awake over there?” he asked, still strumming.
“Barely,” she murmured.
“Cam’s a good fellow.”
“Yea, I think so too.”
“You like him?”
“Yup.”
“You love him?”
“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it, Ted? I’ve never been in love, so how do you know?”
“You know. You just don’t know you know.”
He was making her head hurt. “You’re talking in riddles.”
“No. I’m talking from experience. When you’re in love you spend all this time trying to figure out if it’s love. Because you can’t believe it’s happened to you.”
She mulled that over for a bit, trying to wrap her head around the idea that she was getting advice that made sense from both Ida and Asher in one day. About love. What was the world coming to?
“When did you get so wise?” she asked, sitting up.
“Oh, about the time I was left at the altar. When I realized that I was marrying Nina because I’m in love with Anna. And when I realized that neither of them care for me as much as you do. And you don’t even like me half of the time.”
“That’s not true!”
“Oh, you know it is. If you were willing to take a good hard look at the time we’ve spent together you’d see it. You used me as much as I used you. And I don’t mean that in a horrid, you hag, kind of way. It’s just the way it is.”
“When you put it that way, we both sound awful.”
“Not at all. You gave me what I needed, and I’d like to think I returned the favour. And now, you’re still helping me. Which is why I feel so bloody awful about this mess you’re in. But I think I helped you out earlier today.”
He recounted how he’d called Anna while standing next to a ground floor open window that faced the parking lot. He was careful not to address her by name, but made it abundantly clear that he was talking to the woman the press were looking for. And that she was in London.
“They should be off soon, back to London to try and piece together the scavenger hunt of clues I dropped in the conversation.”
Elsie smiled. “Thanks, Ted.”
“So you’re going to start that now as well, are you?”
“Why shouldn’t I? Ted is a nice guy I know. And I don’t have a past with Ted.”
“But it’s our pasts, my darling, that make our futures seem promising.”
The man was beginning to sound like a writer of those inspirational posters. She told him so. And was in no way surprised to find out that he thought that was a great compliment.
“So let’s get back to my question, shall we? Do you…”
She shushed him. Cam and his sister were on their way down the hall. Either that or the house was currently experiencing an influx of loud, Scottish visitors.
“She’s here,” Cam said to a tall, arrestingly gorgeous woman. His parents sure did produce stunning offspring. Big, but beautiful. Daphne Scott had short, spiky black hair and large blue eyes. Amazonian was the first word that popped into Elsie’s mind.
Elsie stood to shake Cam’s sister’s hand. Instead she was swooped into a giant hug.
“Oh, you’re so wee,” Daphne said. “And beautiful. No wonder my poor old brother doesn’t know which way is up. Which is good for a change. Thanks so much for having me! I love this house. This place. And your da is just brillia
nt.”
Elsie was taking breaths for the woman, because her words were just flooding out without any break for air.
“But look at me, using up all the oxygen in the room. Must be the jet lag or something. I’ve not slept a wink since Cam woke me last night with the wonderful news. ‘Course I know it’s all for show right now, but a sister can hope for the real thing, can’t she. And I’d love to be an aunt. Oh, wouldn’t you make the most spectacular babes.”
The woman was like a whirlwind, leaving Elsie’s head reeling with thoughts and images.
“Control yourself, Daph,” Cam said. “You’re putting a fleet of carts before the horse there.”
“Oh, don’t mind me,” she said to Elsie. “Truly. I really need to get my inner-filter adjusted. I’m known to never shut up, so you must promise to tell me to stop talking if I’m getting on your nerves. Half the time I don’t know what I’m saying. But I just think any woman who can cause my brother to propose, real or not, well, let’s just say good on ya.”
Much of the next hour was taken up with Daphne either asking Elsie questions, or expounding on the answers. She wanted to know about everything. Why she’d opened an inn. What was it like living in such a beautiful place. Did she enjoy having her parents around all the time, and wasn’t her father just the handsomest thing?
Elsie didn’t think she’d have the patience to withstand such rapid-fire questions from anyone else, but there was something charming in the way Daphne spoke and reacted to everything Elsie said. Maybe it was that it was obvious that she really wanted to know about Elsie and her life. Or perhaps it was the passionate way she had of putting her feelings out there, regardless of the consequences. Daphne might take up a room with her personality, but she didn’t crowd others out.
Still, Elsie was getting exhausted. It was hard to believe tomorrow was only Monday. So much had changed over the weekend. Was it really only Friday night that she had invited Cam into her bedroom?
She was trying to be polite and keep up with the conversation but she was seriously starting to lag behind. Even rapidly blinking her eyes wasn’t working to keep them from drooping.
