Page 6
Story: The Rising Tide
‘Your boat has a life raft?’
‘A Seago six-berth, bright yellow. Immersion suits too – enough for the whole family.’
He nods. ‘We’ve got the very best people out searching.’
Lucy’s gaze falls to Jake’s sweater. She recognizes it – a cream rope-knit from a decade ago. The sleeve has a small repair, which she made during a brief spell of lunacy when mending his clothes seemed romantic. Already, her ties to reality feel frayed. For a moment, the sight of those clumsy stitches throws her completely. With effort, she swallows. ‘Find him, Jake, please. Not just for me. He’s Fin’s dad.’
Again, her fingers reach for her wedding band. It’s a cheap thing, really. Some kind of base metal. Every so often it goes green and she has to scrub it to restore the shine, but she’s resisted Daniel’s offers to buy a new one. As always, in this relationship, items with little value gain it as they age. Her wedding band may have cost a song, but it represents something priceless. She still remembers themoment he put it on her finger; that sense of a puzzle piece clicking into place; gears, somewhere in the universe, quietly meshing.
All at once, Lucy’s back in her kitchen up on Mortis Point and time has rewound six hours. Fin sits at the breakfast table, bare legs swinging beneath it. He’s working on a bowl of Frosties. Open beside him is his Match Attax folder.
‘Mummy,’ he says. He rabbit-wrinkles his nose until his glasses sit higher up his face. ‘Eden Hazard has anattackof ninety-four, but adefenceof forty-three. How can he be so good atonething and soterribleat another?’
Since he learned to talk, Fin’s injected melodrama into every sentence he’s uttered. Just hearing him speak ignites Lucy’s heart. She has no idea who Eden Hazard is. When she leans over Fin’s shoulder, she sees what she thinks is a Real Madrid kit.
‘Everyone’s good at some things and bad at others,’ she says, as Daniel enters the room. ‘Take Daddy, for example.’
Daniel stops in the doorway, staring. His eyes are bloodshot. It looks like he’s fighting a hangover on top of a poor night’s sleep.
‘Daddy’s a genius at building boats and giving tickles,’ she continues. ‘He’s not quite as clever at kissing his wife and son when he sees them at breakfast.’
Fin snorts with laughter. But Lucy’s still looking at her husband and she knows her joke’s fallen flat. When it works, this pantomime jollity can fool anyone. When it doesn’t, it feels like everything in the world is collapsing.
Abruptly, Daniel jerks back to life. He bends over Fin’s chair and plants a kiss on the boy’s head. ‘Love you, buddy.’
‘You want some coffee?’ Lucy asks.
‘Thanks, no. Heading out early today.’
‘You’re leaving now?’
He glances through the window. Over Mortis Point, the sky’s so dark with cloud it looks like dawn hasn’t broken. ‘Thought I’d go down while it’s quiet. Get a few loose ends tied up.’
Her jaw tightens when she hears that. Because Daniel’s task, later this morning, will bring him close to breaking. If only she could carry some of the weight. ‘Better take a jacket. This storm won’t wait much longer.’
His eyes are still on the clouds, as if he’s searching them for something.
‘Daniel?’
‘Huh?’
Lucy raises an eyebrow, hoping to strike a more light-hearted tone in front of Fin. ‘Kiss?’
No response. She waits, head tilted. More of the pantomime.
At the table, Fin puts down his spoon. He looks at each of his parents. ‘Comeon, Daddy,’ he says. ‘Don’t leave Mummy hanging.’
Daniel turns from the window and studies his son. Then he crosses the kitchen and kisses Lucy. His lips feel bloodless. Cold as the ocean.
She thinks about pulling him into a hug and repeating her vow from last night – that they’ll survive the coming storm, that their love is a bulwark against all the bad weather heading their way. Instead, sensing his fragility, she rubs his arm. ‘Listen, Goof,’ she whispers. ‘I swear this’ll be OK.’
He nods and walks to the back door. ‘Bye,’ he says, and steps into the early-morning dark without looking back.
Cold air licks into the room, fading like smoke.
‘Shall I tell you astory, Mummy? This one’sveryinteresting. Yesterday, we had anewgirl in our class.Hername wasJessica.’
Lucy stares at the back door. Outside, she hears the diesel clatter of Daniel’s Volvo.I love you, she should have said.None of this is your fault.
‘A Seago six-berth, bright yellow. Immersion suits too – enough for the whole family.’
He nods. ‘We’ve got the very best people out searching.’
Lucy’s gaze falls to Jake’s sweater. She recognizes it – a cream rope-knit from a decade ago. The sleeve has a small repair, which she made during a brief spell of lunacy when mending his clothes seemed romantic. Already, her ties to reality feel frayed. For a moment, the sight of those clumsy stitches throws her completely. With effort, she swallows. ‘Find him, Jake, please. Not just for me. He’s Fin’s dad.’
Again, her fingers reach for her wedding band. It’s a cheap thing, really. Some kind of base metal. Every so often it goes green and she has to scrub it to restore the shine, but she’s resisted Daniel’s offers to buy a new one. As always, in this relationship, items with little value gain it as they age. Her wedding band may have cost a song, but it represents something priceless. She still remembers themoment he put it on her finger; that sense of a puzzle piece clicking into place; gears, somewhere in the universe, quietly meshing.
All at once, Lucy’s back in her kitchen up on Mortis Point and time has rewound six hours. Fin sits at the breakfast table, bare legs swinging beneath it. He’s working on a bowl of Frosties. Open beside him is his Match Attax folder.
‘Mummy,’ he says. He rabbit-wrinkles his nose until his glasses sit higher up his face. ‘Eden Hazard has anattackof ninety-four, but adefenceof forty-three. How can he be so good atonething and soterribleat another?’
Since he learned to talk, Fin’s injected melodrama into every sentence he’s uttered. Just hearing him speak ignites Lucy’s heart. She has no idea who Eden Hazard is. When she leans over Fin’s shoulder, she sees what she thinks is a Real Madrid kit.
‘Everyone’s good at some things and bad at others,’ she says, as Daniel enters the room. ‘Take Daddy, for example.’
Daniel stops in the doorway, staring. His eyes are bloodshot. It looks like he’s fighting a hangover on top of a poor night’s sleep.
‘Daddy’s a genius at building boats and giving tickles,’ she continues. ‘He’s not quite as clever at kissing his wife and son when he sees them at breakfast.’
Fin snorts with laughter. But Lucy’s still looking at her husband and she knows her joke’s fallen flat. When it works, this pantomime jollity can fool anyone. When it doesn’t, it feels like everything in the world is collapsing.
Abruptly, Daniel jerks back to life. He bends over Fin’s chair and plants a kiss on the boy’s head. ‘Love you, buddy.’
‘You want some coffee?’ Lucy asks.
‘Thanks, no. Heading out early today.’
‘You’re leaving now?’
He glances through the window. Over Mortis Point, the sky’s so dark with cloud it looks like dawn hasn’t broken. ‘Thought I’d go down while it’s quiet. Get a few loose ends tied up.’
Her jaw tightens when she hears that. Because Daniel’s task, later this morning, will bring him close to breaking. If only she could carry some of the weight. ‘Better take a jacket. This storm won’t wait much longer.’
His eyes are still on the clouds, as if he’s searching them for something.
‘Daniel?’
‘Huh?’
Lucy raises an eyebrow, hoping to strike a more light-hearted tone in front of Fin. ‘Kiss?’
No response. She waits, head tilted. More of the pantomime.
At the table, Fin puts down his spoon. He looks at each of his parents. ‘Comeon, Daddy,’ he says. ‘Don’t leave Mummy hanging.’
Daniel turns from the window and studies his son. Then he crosses the kitchen and kisses Lucy. His lips feel bloodless. Cold as the ocean.
She thinks about pulling him into a hug and repeating her vow from last night – that they’ll survive the coming storm, that their love is a bulwark against all the bad weather heading their way. Instead, sensing his fragility, she rubs his arm. ‘Listen, Goof,’ she whispers. ‘I swear this’ll be OK.’
He nods and walks to the back door. ‘Bye,’ he says, and steps into the early-morning dark without looking back.
Cold air licks into the room, fading like smoke.
‘Shall I tell you astory, Mummy? This one’sveryinteresting. Yesterday, we had anewgirl in our class.Hername wasJessica.’
Lucy stares at the back door. Outside, she hears the diesel clatter of Daniel’s Volvo.I love you, she should have said.None of this is your fault.
Table of Contents
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