Okay—I’d need a new plan of action. Maybe I’d have breakfast, wait a while, and then casually wander up to the rocks, and hopefully she’d be outside. I had to remember tomorrow that she seemed to like going for an early morning swim, although a glance at the clock told me it was after nine. I made myself a couple ofWeetbixwith fruit then took my cup of coffee outside. I stood at the top of the sand, digging my toes in, and breathed deep.
The salty tang of the sea mixed with the iodine scent of drying seaweed and the aroma of my coffee. There was a slight hint like the smell of dead fish, yet over it all, the clean freshness of unpolluted air. They all invaded my nostrils. Gazing up and down the beach, I noticed there was not a soul in sight. Plenty of seagulls though. I shifted my gaze upward. There was a bird high in the sky, making lazy circles. I exhaled. All was right with my world. I’d been here a few days and already my mental health, as well as my physical, was improving. The first day I’d spent most of it asleep, trying to catch up with flying out here then the drive across country.
After finishing my coffee, I decided on a walk. The physiotherapist had told me wading in water would be good for my leg, and I figured I’d head up toward the rocks near Anabelle’s. I put the USB stick in the pocket of my shirt, dragged on an old pair of shorts, and then set off.
I’d walked in water before, during my rehab, but never had to contend with waves. Before, it had been in a pool. I managed to get out to mid-thigh depth, but it was hard going, I lost count how many times I almost fell. Stupidly, I was determined to reach the rocks, but by the time I touched them, I puffed and groaned like an old man.
Now I was limping badly—maybe I’d overdone it.
That was wrong—I’d definitely overdone it. I wasn’t used to not being fit. All my life I’d prided myself on my physical condition, and now I was hobbling around like I was in my nineties. Angry I couldn’t even walk in the water without almost collapsing, I somehow managed to clamber out, my shoulder and leg making it damn hard. I actually had to drag myself onto the closest rock and then tried to get my racing pulse under control. My leg burned from the exercise, my shoulder ached, and my stomach felt as if I’d been shot again. I wondered if I’d be able to make it back.
Man, was I stupid with a capital ‘S’.