Page 42 of And Then There Was You

Thirty-Six Zach

Merryn is quiet when we meet next day. When I ask her if she’s okay, she asks if we can go for a walk. Of course I agree. I don’t care where we are as long as we’re there together.

The sudden dimming of her light is a shock to see.

I know waiting for news on Zanna’s newspaper campaign is tough for her, but this feels like something more.

With no particular destination in mind, we wander through the streets, the glow of the sunset sky washing the rows of fishermen’s cottages with the softest gold.

It’s one of those perfect summer evenings, when the air is still, the heat of the day is past and the town settles itself for the night to come.

Perhaps predictably, we end up at Porthmeor.

It’s particularly lovely when the sun is setting, the crowds who have camped on the beach all day are gone, replaced by groups of happy visitors and locals wandering down for a gentle evening stroll.

The sea is on the way back in, but doesn’t seem in a hurry to make it up the beach.

Gone is the swell of recent days, the waves smaller and gentler, although I know that can often be an illusion.

You never underestimate the sea, especially on the Meor.

When we reach the sand we kick off our shoes, walking hand in hand across the still-warm beach.

‘What’s up?’ I ask at last, trusting the magic of this place to do its stuff.

She leans a little against my arm. ‘I had a run-in with Seth.’

I’m no longer concerned that she and Seth are together, but I understand how close they are as friends. Suddenly, her quiet mood makes sense. ‘What about?’

‘The search. And you. But mostly the search.’

‘Thinks I’m not good enough for you, does he?’

‘He’s just being protective. But he thinks I shouldn’t be looking for Grant.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. I wish I did.’

I glance down at her. ‘Is he worried you won’t find him?’

‘I think he’s worried I will.’

I stop walking. She looks up at me – and I see the hurt her so-called best friend has caused. Who stamps on the dreams of someone they care about? ‘Why would he be concerned about that? If he knows what Grant means to you?’

‘Seth thinks there’s a good reason why I’ve never been able to find him. That he has some awful secret, or didn’t care about me like he said he did. He thinks I’m approaching this like a child, trusting someone who’s been out of my life for years.’

I can see his point and, sure, there are risks that the man Merryn has held in such high regard for most of her life might not be worthy of his throne. But isn’t the point to help her find him and then deal with whatever else is revealed?

‘Ignore him,’ I say, as we start to walk again towards the tideline. ‘I’m here for you. That’s all that matters.’

We fall back into silence as we near the sea. The sand beneath our feet transforms from soft and dry to ridged and damp. It’s the familiar feeling I’ve missed – the anticipation as the waves reach out to me. My heart aches as we near the sea.

‘You want to be out there, don’t you?’ Merryn asks, her fingers squeezing mine where they are joined.

‘I miss it,’ I admit, because to deny how I feel to Merryn is unthinkable now.

‘You could teach me to surf.’ When I look at her, she’s smiling. ‘I’ve always wanted to learn.’

‘You didn’t do it as a kid?’

‘No. Mum was scared of the water, so she kept me away. I only learned to swim because of lessons at school. By the time I moved out, it felt too late to learn to surf. At the grand old age of seventeen.’ She laughs, shaking her head. ‘What little we know when we’re kids, eh?’

I remember the certainty of my teens, the cockiness that made me believe the world was at my feet. I don’t think I’d recognise my younger self now. I’d probably find him highly annoying and want to push him into the sea. ‘I was a dick when I was seventeen.’

‘But great at surfing?’

‘Oh yeah, the best.’ I bask in her smile and the break in tension as the sky above us turns orange and pink.

‘Teach me to surf, Zach,’ she says, her soft request almost lost amid the rumble of the incoming tide.

‘I don’t think I—’

‘I don’t know what you were like as a surfer before. I have nothing to compare it with. I won’t judge you, or bemoan things you can’t do that you did in the past.’

‘My mate Jakey works at the surf school. I could arrange a lesson for you with him?’

My suggestion is silenced by her hand leaving mine, her arms wrapping around my waist.

‘I want you to teach me. You’ve helped me so much with the piano – with the search for Grant. And even if we don’t find him, I feel closer to making peace with my past. Let me help you get back into the water.’

I’m blindsided by her request. All I can do is stare at the rolling waves, emotion stealing my words, as Merryn nestles against my chest.

*

I’m still considering her request the next day.

Aggie clocks the conundrum the moment she arrives at the studio to drop off a cake she somehow ‘over-ordered’ at her coffee hut.

She’s been doing that regularly since I’ve been here, the same bright excuse trotted out as if the whole of St Ives couldn’t see what she’s really doing.

Not that I’m likely to complain, though. Free cake is never a thing to refuse.

‘Right,’ she says, lowering herself gingerly onto the studio couch. ‘Stick the kettle on and then tell me what’s playin’ on that mind of yours.’

I’ve always believed Aggie has a sixth sense but the addition of pregnancy hormones has sent it stratospheric. I love how she knows stuff as much as I hate it: there’s no hiding when Aggie Keats is on your case.

So, tea made and duly delivered, I flop down beside her. ‘Merryn wants me to teach her to surf.’

My friend nods and says nothing.

Understanding my cue to continue, I comply. ‘And she’s being really lovely, asking me to do that. But I don’t think I . . .’

‘But you’re crappin’ yourself,’ Aggie interjects, in her own succinct style.

‘I haven’t been properly out there since the accident.’

‘Which makes it a perfect time to try.’ Her pierced eyebrow rises as she observes me. ‘Because if not now, when?’

‘When I’m ready.’

The raspberry she blows sends ripples dancing across the surface of her tea.

‘Bollocks, Zachy. If you wait till you’re ready you’ll never do it.

You’re scared. It will hurt. You’ll probably have to learn how to do things all over again.

But don’t you think doin’ it with someone who’s new to the gig – who wouldn’t know surf technique if she tripped over it – is the perfect way to get back in the water? ’

I hate it when she makes sense like that. How am I supposed to argue?

‘If I let her down—’

‘How are you goin’ to do that, exactly, hmm? Teach her with the board the wrong way up?’

‘Ag—’

‘No, Zach, I’m sorry. You’ve been stuck on land for too long. Jakey says . . .’

I stare at her. ‘How do you know what Jakey says?’

She stares back like I’ve just told her the sea is zebra-striped.

‘I am the eyes and ears of the town. There’s nothin’ I don’t hear or see.

Besides, Jakey Lowen’s long been a fan of my saffron buns.

’ She sniggers. ‘Sorry. Point is, I know he’s invited you out with the Meor gang.

And he wants you to teach the nippers in his classes. ’

‘I can’t, Ag.’

‘Yes, you can. You care about the girl. You love the sea. It’s bleddy simple when you look at it like that.’

And when I look at it from Aggie’s perspective, it finally is.