Winter Dreams

by Robyn Neeley

  Finding an empty spot on the rail, she leaned over it. Men and women dressed in wet weather gear were filing down the stairs with defiant expressions. So many of them in fact, there might not be enough boats. The woman standing beside her turned and smiled, her eyes gleaming with excitement; it would have been great if Carly felt the same. But she stood numbly as the painters were cast off and boats pushed into the harbour, not even smiling when the breeze caught the sails, blowing them out and sending them racing to the start line. Her eyes went to the sails, those billowing sails, how often she’d held them in her control, watching their every twist and slack, knowing instinctively when to tack. She used to drop her head back and grin at the wonderful feeling of racing, of being alive, of being young.

  Tears chilled her cheeks and she wiped them away with a glove. How she missed it! She would have coped with losing the use of her leg if only she’d still been able to sail, but she couldn’t forget the sound of the mast snapping, the sensation of being thrown into the water, to gasp and choke in the vicious December waves.

  Shuddering, she covered her face with her hands. Would she ever forget? It haunted her sleep, it filled her daydreams; the slam of a car door made her jump. Water swirling down the plughole reminded her of the rush of the ocean in her ears. Unable to sleep longer than a few hours, it affected her moods, leaving her irritable and angry. Seeing Daniel race across the harbour was more then she could bear. He didn’t suffer the same fears she did, his life had remained virtually unchanged.

  Raising her head, she stared across the harbour, Daniel was in the lead, thick, white foam flying from the back of his boat, the other dinghies behind, tiny dark figures clinging to the ropes as sailors leant over the gunwales. Had she once dared to do that? Hang her head inches from the waves? Yes, she had, and loved it. Now she would be too scared, because she knew how easily an accident could happen: a hand slipping on a rope, sailing in poor weather, trusting someone else’s judgement rather than her own.

  She didn’t have to stand here any longer, it was enough to see the boats off the landing jetty, there was no need to torture herself. Pulling her hat closer to her head, she jumped when a hand closed around her arm and squeezed.

  “It’s only me,” Shane said. “How are you doing, my girl?”

  She twisted around to face him, her chest tight. Shane was a good man, but she didn’t want to see him; she knew what he would ask her.

  “I’m fine,” she said, “shop’s doing well.”

  “Excellent. And has Daniel got you back in a dinghy again?”

  She stiffened. “No, not yet. I’m not ready.”

  “The longer you leave it, the harder it will get.”

  “So you keep saying.” She turned away, her pleasure at seeing him vanishing. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?

  “Carly.”

  Force of habit made her look at him, he stood watching her, his mouth turned down and eyes sympathetic. “I’m putting together a team for the Paralympics,” he said. “I’d like you to try out for it.”

  “Not this again. I’ve already said no, several times.” She didn’t want to join the Paralympics, it would be like admitting she was disabled, which she wasn’t. She could manage.

  “I think it might be worth talking to your doctor about your phobia.”

  “My doctor? What’s he got to do with it?”

  “There are treatments available for post-traumatic stress disorder.”

  She froze. “There’s nothing wrong with me, I just don’t want to sail again. You wouldn’t either, if you’d almost drowned.”

  “I do understand, I had a similar accident as a teenager. I didn’t have the injuries you have, but the current sucked me under. It took me ages to get the confidence to swim again, but I’m very glad I did.”

  “Good, I’m happy it worked out for you, but that doesn’t mean it’s the same for me, and I’m getting tired of you and Daniel pushing me.”

  Shane smiled. “At least he’s trying anyway, I was afraid he had no interest in getting back on the team.”

  “What?”

  He looked at her, mouth set. “I told Daniel he could join the team again if he got you sailing.”

  “How dare you! How dare you both. I’m not a bargaining chip and his career is nothing to do with me. That’s a terrible thing for you to do, so unfair. I shouldn’t be left responsible for him.”

  “I agree, it is unfair, but I couldn’t think of any other way of getting you back on the water again. Neither of you are going to be able to carry on with your lives until you sort out what happened two years ago. You need to forgive him, and he needs to stop blaming himself, but I don’t think you’re ever going to do that until you start sailing again.” He took hold of her hand. “No one can give you the use of your leg back, we can’t make you whole again, but we can give you back sailing. I know how much you loved it.”

  She snatched her hand away. “Leave me alone, Shane. I don’t need rescuing by you, or anyone else.” Grabbing her cane, she walked into the crowd.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Daniel climbed out the boat and raised his hand to acknowledge the cheers. He’d set off with the intention of losing, so he could pay a larger donation, but once he was racing with the bright sails following close, his competitive streak kicked in. The money would still be paid, there was nothing to stop him doing an anonymous contribution. Tying up the dinghy, he strode past his fellow sailors, ignoring their attempts to talk to him; it was disgraceful the way they tried to blackmail Carly. The best thing about him winning was that none of them were going to get any prize money, they didn’t deserve it.

  Taking the steps up to the harbour two at a time, his sailing boots slipping on the algae, he pushed through the people waiting at the top. Where was she? A couple of people waved autograph books and usually he would sign, but not today. She’d been standing here when he set off. He scanned the rail again, searching for a flash of red hair.

  “Daniel,” a female voice called, over the crowd.

  Twisting his head around, he swallowed. It was Imogen, clutching her weekend bag, blonde hair gleaming. Walking toward her, he looked at the holdall; she was leaving. If only he could have loved her, but she didn’t have the fighting spirit and impulsive behaviour that he adored so much in Carly. Imogen had never been his best friend. Life would be easy with her, but he didn’t want easy; he wanted the girl he fell in love with five years ago.

  He owed Imogen though, she could have made things far more difficult for him — he certainly deserved it. Pushing through the crowd, he hugged her.

  “Thanks,” he said, knowing it was not enough. But Imogen would be happy again soon, she wasn’t a girl that would remain single for long.

  She took a deep breath and stepped back, holding her head high. “I’m going now, there’s no point in me staying here. I can see what’s happening, it’s Carly again, like it’s always been.”

  “I’m sorry.” He truly was, Imogen was a nice girl and he’d treated her badly. It would have been better for all of them if he’d admitted his feelings earlier. “Let me take you to the train station.”

  “No, I’ve ordered a taxi, I don’t want anything else from you.” She looked at him with dignity.

  Daniel nodded. “I’ll always be here for you, Imo, if you ever need anything. And I know that soon you’re going to meet someone wonderful, who will love you as you deserve. I’m sorry it couldn’t be me.”

  “You were lost many years ago. How can I compete with a first love? I think you’ll be happy though. I didn’t know what to expect when I met her, but I can see that she’s right for you. Carly will stand up to you, and I didn’t, I let you run our relationship, because I knew you didn’t feel as strongly about me as I did for you, and that was wrong. We never would have been happy together, there was always a shadow in the room.” She b
linked rapidly. “We had good times though, so I don’t regret it, but I do want you to sort things out with her. I’d feel better if there was a damn good reason for us splitting up.”

  Daniel nodded. “Take care,” he said.

  He watched her stride to the edge of the harbour, a head taller than everyone else. She never would have fitted in here; she didn’t have that small town understanding Carly had, where you accepted all the various different personalities as part of Haven Bay. And it would have been cruel to marry Imogen, knowing she was second best.

  Where was Carly though? Narrowing his eyes, he scanned the people clustered around the kiosks, munching chestnuts and drinking hot chocolate. The success of the sailing race had revitalised the visitors, who now jostled along the harbour rail waiting for the children’s sailing competition to start.

  Which he was supposed to be judging! In the excitement of the race and saying goodbye to Imogen, he’d forgotten all about it. Pushing through the crowds to the rail, he unhooked the chain barrier and went quickly down the steps to the floating jetty again. It shook under his feet as he hurried across to the cruiser where Russell waited for him, looking amused.

  “You’re late,” his friend said. “Distracted by that attractive blonde?”

  “She’s a friend, or at least, I hope she is.” He dropped into a seat, closing his eyes when the engine roared and the boat began to move.

  “Call yourself a lifeguard?” Russell said.

  “True.” Turning around, he watched the line of triangular sails bobbing at the start line, becoming fainter as they headed across the bay. Once, he and Carly had been there, eager to get started, watching their competitors with a keen eye that made them seem older than their years. So much had changed since then, it was a shame they couldn’t go back to that time and start again, but it was impossible. They could only learn to live with the consequences. Tilting his head back, he stared at the black cliffs looming out of the water against the grey sky, flakes of snow swirling down and vanishing into the green waves. He glanced down at the water; would he ever be able to sail this stretch again without a shudder?

  “Where do you want to stop?” Russell said, slowing the engine.

  “Here’s fine, we have to watch the last marker and be on hand in case anyone needs rescuing.”

  Russell put the cruiser into reverse and dropped the anchor. In silence, they bobbed, watching the swoop of sails racing toward them, tiny figures in bright orange life jackets. Daniel narrowed his eyes, standing to gaze at a small craft, which leant too far to the right. “Trim it,” he muttered.

  “It’s going over,” Russell said, jumping up.

  The boat wobbled and a scream echoed across the water as it flipped into the sea. Daniel reached for a rope, but almost immediately, a support vessel hooted and headed toward the capsized boat. It was nearer than him, so he watched, looping the rope around his hand and elbow as the child, instead of panicking, tried to straighten his craft. That was a lad who would do well; he’d lose this race, but probably not the next.

  “They’ve got him,” Russell said.

  “They ought to help him right the craft and let him carry on.”

  “His parents might feel differently, it’s December.”

  “Not if they’re sailors they won’t.” He leant on the rail, watching the crew lift the child into the boat, who, from the grin on his face, didn’t seem too perturbed at losing the race. Anyone could win, after all, it took real skill to get rescued by the lifeboat.

  “Which marker do we need to watch them around?” Russell said.

  Daniel nodded to a large orange buoy bobbing in the centre of the harbour. “We must keep an eye out for other boats too, we’ve put out notices that the harbour will be closed for the afternoon, but there’s a chance someone might not have heard, we don’t want a speedboat racing in during the kids’ sailing.”

  “Nothing yet, just a few seagulls.” Russell shielded his eyes to peer across the water. “It’s great to have you back, how long are you staying for?”

  “I’m not sure yet, depends on circumstances.”

  “Between you and Carly?”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “The fact you vanished home with her at the sailing club party was a large hint.” Russell grinned. “Poor Ali, left standing alone by the sausage rolls with no way of getting home.”

  “It’s going to take a really big Christmas present before she’ll forgive me.”

  Staring across the harbour, he kept his gaze on the small sails making their way toward him — no more accidents on his watch. Spray, laced with salt, landed on his lips and he moistened them, his nose numbing as he breathed in the freezing winter air. Small yellow lights were switching on along the harbour, snow blurring them to a soft glow in front of the brown skeletons of trees. Even winter couldn’t dim the beauty of Haven Bay.

  The dinghies swept around the marker, a couple touching it, which he pretended not to see, and one going around it the wrong way, which he couldn’t ignore. Marking the boat’s number, he made a mental note to have a brief word with the small sailor, who needed to be aware of the risk of collisions.

  “I think it’s going to be number three,” Russell said, squinting as the miniature fleet headed back to the finishing line.

  Daniel shook his head. “Wrong position, she’ll lose her wind in a few minutes. It’s going to be boat eight, which one of my small cousins is sailing; hopefully there won’t be any moaning about favouritism.”

  “They’ll just think it’s good genes.” Russell stretched and yawned. “Time to head back, I think, it’s getting dark.”

  Daniel sat back in his seat, wiping snow from his face. They’d been right to bring forward the gala, the weather was getting worse. People were already on their way home, patches of brown cobblestone gleamed on the harbour, which had been packed with sightseers when he set off. Hopefully they had made enough money, else the rest of the town would never let Carly forget it.

  • • •

  Daniel pushed open the shop door and a blast of warm air hit his face, the snowfall that ended the gala yesterday had eased off, but it was still bitterly cold. He yanked off his sailing gloves, put down his hood and breathed in the scent of cinnamon. Carly’s place was tidy, the shelves filled with attractive merchandise. He hadn’t found her after the fête, although Mick looked shifty when he questioned him: it had been clear that she didn’t want to be found.

  “With you in a sec!” Carly said.

  He spotted her behind the cash till, leaning over a large box. He admired her bottom, encased in dark blue trousers, and waited for her to turn around. When she did, her mouth dropped open.

  “Daniel, what a surprise. Thanks for helping with the gala. Sorry I had to go, I needed to take the funds raised to the bank.”

  “That’s all right, I think most people had gone by then anyway. How much did you make?”

  “Including a mysterious cheque for ten thousand pounds that arrived this morning, we made twenty-three thousand. Only just short of our target.”

  “That’s brilliant, well done.”

  “It isn’t though, is it? Without that cheque, it would have been a disaster, just thirteen thousand. I might as well have saved myself all the trouble and held a Christmas car boot sale in the sailing club car park like Duncan originally wanted.”

  “I doubt you’d have got such a large donation for setting up a few tables and chairs. It took hard work to arrange what you did, and everyone loved it. They were talking in the pub last night about doing a Winter Gala every year. The kids had a great time, and don’t forget it’ll be on the local news so you might get some more money arriving in the post. Most of Cornwall knows about the need for the new lifeboat now.”

  She smiled. “The cameras came because of you and Imogen, they wouldn’t ha
ve been here for any other reason.”

  “That’s how it works and if it brings in money, what does it matter? Charities have always had figureheads.”

  “I suppose so; I feel bad it cost you so much though.”

  Daniel caught his breath, tempted to tell her how much he earned in the last year from sponsorship deals and after dinner speaking. But it would sound like he was boasting.

  “I would have paid it anyway,” he said. “I decided to donate after we visited the lifeboat station. They saved your life, Carly, and mine, because if you’d died due to my mistake, I couldn’t have lived with myself.”

  She motioned her lips and looked down at the Christmas boxes by her feet. “Thank you anyway, we appreciated the donation. Now, what are you doing here? Can I get you anything?”

  “My mother told me this was the best place to come for Christmas presents.”

  The corners of her lips tilted up. Clearly, she was not immune to compliments, not even when they came from him.

  “I’m no good at choosing gifts though,” he said. “Could you help?”

  “If you’re not in a hurry, as I have to finish the last of the Christmas hamper orders. Have a look around while you’re waiting.”

  Daniel peered into one of the boxes, it was full of cheese portions wrapped in greaseproof paper and jars of dark brown chutney.

  “Do you deliver those yourself?” he said.

  “I have a driver.” Her green eyes narrowed. “I’ve been running this place for quite a while now.”

  Now he had annoyed her, sounded patronising; of course she could manage, but he hated to see her struggle. Turning away, he strode around the shop, stroking a soft jumper on a table by the window.