Albatross

by Ross Turner

  There was no sign of the albatross, Jen noted. But also, and perhaps more unusually, there had been no sign of Clare either.

  Perhaps they were both preoccupied with other things?

  That was an interesting thought, but Jen’s mind didn’t allow her to grasp exactly why, and so she skimmed over the notion without realising quite what she was missing.

  “Come on!” Deacon suddenly exclaimed, pulling Jen by the hand as he surged forwards, cutting down onto the sandy portion of the beach.

  “Where are we going!?” Jen laughed.

  He turned midstride and winked at her slyly.

  “I know a good place…” He replied mysteriously.

  Deacon led Jen down across the sand, right next to where the surf frothed and seethed, and then up again onto the rocks on the far side on the beach. Following what looked at first glance to be an impossible route, Deacon forged round the very furthest corner of the rocky coastline that Jen had spent so many months simply gazing at.

  They skipped from rock to rock, gaining speed and momentum, hurtling faster and faster. He was quick, but then so was she, and she just about managed to keep pace with him as they flung themselves over treacherous crevasses and monstrous drops.

  The rock ledges dropped off suddenly then, their faces sheer and vertical; impossible to traverse, descending all the way down to the water.

  “Where now?” Jen asked, breathing heavily, her lungs heaving, excited.

  The salty wind whipped at her long, curly hair, and the sun kissed her face warmly as it shone down upon the coastline.

  “Here.” Deacon pointed, holding out his hand towards a slight opening in the rock. The crack looked barely wide enough for even a child squeeze through, and Jen could see no more than two feet inside of it, for it was too dark and too narrow.

  “In there?” She questioned, her tone dubious, and quite rightly so.

  “Don’t worry.” He assured her confidently. “It opens up pretty much straight away once you’re inside.”

  Sea spray rocketed up over the ledge upon which they stood, clearing at least two dozen feet from the water far below, as a wave struck the rocks perfectly, sending crashing water off in every direction.

  “Do you trust me?” Deacon asked her, looking at Jen pointedly, and her reply was instant, and automatic.

  “I do.” She breathed, surprising even herself.

  But she didn’t have much time to think on it, as Deacon surged forward, letting go of her hand, and dropped down with practiced grace of his own into the crevasse in the rocks so narrow, and disappeared into the rock face itself.

  “I’m here!” His voice called up to her from the blackness. “Don’t worry!”

  Surprisingly, Deacon’s words spurred Jen on immediately, and also, just as astonishingly, the thought in the back of her mind that this was just the sort of thing Clare would do spurred her on too.

  Jen dropped down into the dark, narrow crevasse, following the sound of Deacon’s voice.

  She did not see her albatross soar overhead as she descended, looking down upon her with satisfaction in his jet black gaze.

  Her descent was not quite as graceful, nor practiced, as Deacon’s, but it got the job done.

  She couldn’t tell where she was going at first, and she started to panic, reaching out desperately with one hand and struggling to find her footing. But in an instant he had her, gripping her hand tightly with his, and Jen calmed almost immediately.

  Dropping her head beneath an enormous boulder, splaying both her hands on the walls, Jen glanced down, and indeed the narrow cave widened dramatically, just as Deacon had promised.

  His legs were planted on either side of the cavern walls, about four or five feet lower than where Jen hovered, quite precariously to say the least.

  “Okay?” He checked, and she nodded in response, concentrating on where she was putting her feet. He pointed this way and that to help her, and she placed her feet and hands exactly where he indicated, finding, in fact, that it was actually quite easy. She descended quickly, dropping down at Deacon’s side in barely even a minute.

  A huge archway stretched up and over the pair of them, as they lowered themselves the final few feet out of the cavern.

  “This is the Grotto.” Deacon stated, his gaze sweeping over the cavern stretching beyond the archway.

  “The Grotto?” Jen queried.

  “I’ll show you.” He promised, taking her hand gently and leading her under the massive archway, their footsteps echoing round the cavern and they traversed its side.

  Clearly this cavern always flooded when the tide came it, and the walls were wet and slippery.

  Jen followed Deacon still and they climbed up a little. There was still a fair amount of water in the bottom of the cave, and it looked almost crystal clear, which was most odd for the water round these parts, Jen thought.

  Towards the back of the cavern the walls opened up and widened, giving way to a stretch of golden sand and a much larger pool of water that shone and glistened with sunlight.

  At first Jen didn’t see how that was possible, and looked puzzled at the sight, since they were too far back in the cave for the sunlight to reach here.

  But then she saw what was happening, and all became clear.

  The reason the pool was so deep, and the reason it shone and glistened so brightly, was because although they stood in a cave, beneath the surface of the water there was a break in the cavern wall, which led out to the open ocean, allowing the sunlight to filter through.

  This was the Grotto.

  Jen grinned mischievously.

  Now she understood.

  Unless you knew about the cave they had climbed through, fancied dropping down the sheer rock face, or knew about the secret Grotto that led here from the open water, there was simply no way to get here.

  It was not the sort of place you could just stumble across. Not unless you were looking for it.

  “I’ve been here a few times…” Deacon explained then, his rough velvety voice echoing round the cavern a hundred times. “But I’ve never shown it to anybody…”

  “How did you find it?” Jen asked, mystified at the place, gazing all around.

  It was something out of a fantasy.

  The way the cave glistened from the underwater sunlight, so secret and so secluded. There was no way it could possibly be real.

  “I stumbled across it.” Deacon admitted. “I was looking for a secluded spot to draw. I had no idea I’d find this…”

  “Well, I think you found a secluded spot alright!” Jen laughed, and her happiness echoed all about her. “Why are you showing me?” She asked, and Deacon looked across at her quite seriously.

  “Are you ready?” He asked in return, his voice low.

  “For what?”

  “To look for desert islands…”

  Elusive Desert Islands

  Jen was confused.

  She frowned slightly.

  Deacon grinned at her and stepped easily over the wet, slippery rocks of the Grotto, moving purposefully, though she knew not what he intended.

  Desert islands?

  Jen thought of the picture she had seen hung back at Deacon’s house, though why that specifically jumped into her mind at that moment, she wasn’t sure.

  Recalling the albatross looking down upon the desert island, and the message etched into the sand, she wandered what on Earth Deacon meant.

  But, in her wonderings, Jen had failed to notice that Deacon had dropped down from the rocks and onto the golden strip of sand that lined the pool in the bottom of the cavern: the one that led out into the open water.

  When she looked up, distracted from her thoughts by the sound of echoing ripples disturbing the silence, she saw that he was walking slowly out into the lush water. The pool grew ever greener and ever bluer the further he waded out, and also, more notably, she saw that he’d left his clothes up on the rocks.

  He turned back and smirked at her in perhaps the cheekiest
manner Jen had seen yet, and she blushed red furiously. But it wasn’t entirely his smile that made her flush so dramatically, she had to admit, as her eyes wandered in awe over his terribly perfect, terribly scarred body.

  Jen felt as if her heart was about to leap from her chest, and her mouth hung slightly agape in sheer, undisguised awe.

  He was flawless.

  Her fingers ached to touch him.

  Her bosom heaved and longed to be pressed against his chest.

  Then, with the same smirk and a subtle wave of his hand, Deacon beckoned for Jen to follow him in.

  Suddenly her stomach lurched.

  How could she do that?

  It was too much.

  She couldn’t.

  Could she?

  Jen’s instant reaction was to raise her hands warily, shaking her head slightly and taking a small step back.

  Deacon still wasn’t very far out, and he wasn’t fully facing her, but the water was so impossibly clear. It rose up to his hips, although, if Jen was perfectly honest, it hid pretty much nothing; not that she wished for it to be any other way.

  But then, as if reading her thoughts, Deacon took another step further away from her and, in a single movement, dove head first beneath the water.

  He knew what she needed.

  He always knew.

  And he knew he could get her to follow him in.

  And follow him she would.

  He surfaced from the water again, turning to face her now, and the crystal clear pool came up to his chest. The water glistened on his wet scars and his body looked somehow even more defined than it had done before, every detail highlighted by the glimmering of the Grotto.

  Jen smiled and, deciding to risk everything, just because all of a sudden she could, she rolled her dress up from the bottom and slowly pulled it over the top of her head.

  She felt suddenly free for the first time in a long time.

  Raising her arms up high, she slipped the dress over her hands and dropped it onto the rocks beside Deacon’s clothes, kicking off her shoes as she did so, and her heart started to race furiously.

  As she stood there in her lingerie, exposed, her nerves kicked in again, only this time tenfold. But she refused to yield.

  Deacon smiled and, seeming to know as always what she was thinking, he politely turned his back and dropped again beneath the water, diving much deeper this time, looking almost even as if he was going to pass beneath the Grotto and out into the open water of the ocean.

  Heart in her mouth, or maybe more accurately out on her sleeve: so far so that it was ridiculous, and potentially very dangerous, Jen carefully slipped off what little remained of her clothes, dropping them with the rest, and sidled down to the water’s edge.

  When she stepped out into the pool, breaching its surface cautiously, it was so icy cold that it stole her breath away, and not for the first time that day.

  Wading out to about thigh depth, Jen moved slowly, taking very deep breaths in a futile attempt to counter the freezing temperature.

  But then Deacon suddenly resurfaced once more, yet again a little further out. He faced away from her still, and now he was paddling to stay afloat. He was directly above the tunnel which led out to the open water, and the floor was about two dozen feet below him.

  On an instinct, Jen dove head first into the ice cold pool, aiming for the mouth of the Grotto.

  In an instant, fully submerged for the first time, she felt revitalised.

  The water was so cold and fresh that she suddenly felt more alive than she ever had done.

  Surfacing at Deacon’s side after a few moments, her hands finding his body immediately, this was perhaps the most exciting thing Jen had ever done, and she could feel by his touch that it was completely new to him too.

  How she could tell that, she wasn’t exactly sure, but it just felt right, and she was glad that they could share this together.

  Firsts are important.

  Deacon held Jen closely and kissed her gently, his tender lips fiery compared to the icy cold water. And she kissed him back, passion welling up from deep inside of her. It was something that he had sparked within Jen’s very soul, and there was no quelling it.

  Barely even three days ago had she felt it for the first time, and since then the feeling had built inside of her, growing and growing endlessly, until Jen felt as if her heart would burst.

  She didn’t know what it was.

  Perhaps Clare had been right?

  Either way, she didn’t really care.

  Whatever it was, she loved it.

  Deacon’s strong arms came up and around Jen’s back, pulling her body close against his as they floated. She felt his heart surging through the cold water towards her as they pressed together.

  Pulling her legs up through the water and wrapping them around Deacon’s waist, she felt his heat flowing through her, rushing inside of her in a way she’d never imagined.

  He pressed himself somehow even closer to her, and Jen arched her back and dropped her head into the water, allowing it to engulf her completely, pulling herself ever further into him.

  She crossed her feet behind him, linking them together and pulling hard, and the sensation rippled through her body madly, intensely.

  His hands raked slowly and tenderly up and down her back and legs in the freezing water, and Jen gasped desperately to catch her breath as Deacon stole it away yet again.

  Lost in You, Again

  The moonlight cast the magic of its midnight glow across the ocean, as it did every night, dripping white, glimmering traces upon the ripping water’s surface, leaving long trails in the wake of the midnight sun.

  But tonight things were different.

  The weather was closing in and the temperature had dropped dramatically. Clouds swarmed menacingly in the darkness and did their utmost to block the moonbeams at every opportunity.

  Blustery winds whipped about and charged over the water and barraged exposed rock faces, whipping the waves into furious, crashing swells and breaks.

  The surging gales even lashed at the colourless sands, once they had finished with the black water and rocks, and when the clouds succeeded, more and more often as the night wore on, in the absence of light, the entire coastline seemed to blend and blur into one treacherous mass. Merging together, it was as if the rocks and the water and the sand were all one and the same, indistinguishable from each other.

  Deacon and Jen had stayed in the Grotto until the tide had started to come swelling in, forcing them to leave.

  So distracted by each other, they had totally lost track of time, and only just made it back past through the huge stone archway, and up out of the narrow cavern, before the water engulfed the Grotto completely.

  The whole thing, though perhaps dangerous, had been quite an adventure: exciting and forbidden, and most certainly something Jen had needed.

  Soon enough they were sauntering back along the lanes, hand in hand still, laughing and joking. Some roads were lit, and some were not, and they were making their way towards Keepers Cottage, in generally, roughly, the right direction.

  Deacon led, and Jen followed.

  He took her a way that she no longer walked, and for good reason, but she said nothing of it.

  Beginning to withdraw into herself all of a sudden, Jen barely noticed the tune Deacon was humming, occasionally breaching the gaps in his song by substituting words for verse and chorus.

  But the further they walked, the less and less Jen heard him.

  They passed a corner shop on the left.

  Jen’s heart began to race and fresh, aged fear pulsed through her body in fits and bursts.

  They turned the next corner and, knowing it was there, Jen stole a glance across at the street name sign.

  Memoria Lane

  Deacon, of course, had sensed that something was wrong.

  He had noticed Jen’s breathing quicken and grow shallower, and felt the slight tremor that raced out through her fingers and palm,
held so protectively in his.

  Naturally, he clocked her sly glance at the street name sign, and though he was more than capable of putting two and two together, he wasn’t a mind reader.

  He could see something was bothering Jen, but as of yet, he didn’t know what exactly.

  “You okay?” He breathed through the night.

  Jen nodded, lying of course, but she did not speak.

  “Does it by any chance have anything to do with the dream you had the other night?” Deacon posed, and Jen stopped walking for a moment and looked across at him, her eyes widening a little.

  Although, on second thought, she realised she probably shouldn’t be so surprised.

  She sighed deeply.

  “Yes…” She admitted. “This is where we were looking. Over there…” She revealed, pointing over to the bushes off the side of the road, identical to those she had seen in her dream.

  Deacon saw, despite the dim light, and even though it was barely noticeable, that Jen’s hand was shaking, quivering, even as her outstretched finger indicated over to their left.

  But then, as if on cue, a deep, threatening rumble echoed out above them, and Deacon decided it wasn’t worth it.

  There was no point upsetting her further over nothing but a dream.

  “We’re going to get caught out here…” He muttered quietly, glancing up at the sky with a frown. Jen squinted upwards too, though admittedly only half-heartedly, for her concern was still on her worry.

  Seeming almost to respond to his words, the first few raindrops fell from the sky: big and heavy and freezing.

  They quickened their pace, but the rainfall grew heavier, and the droplets grew bigger, and the temperature plummeted colder, and within barely minutes, caught out by the sudden downpour, they were both soaked through to the skin.