Page 29 of Someone in the Water
His words slap so hard that they sting. Because I know he’s right. I should never have expected so much from my daughter. Especially when she was the one who ended up suffering for it.
‘Anyway, it looks like you’re about to have the chance to make it up to her.’
Jack nods towards the water’s edge and I turn to look. Lola’s board and sail are lying on the beach, and she is walking towards us.
But not with the welcoming smile I was hoping for.
Frankie
27th July
‘Hi, Mum.’
Lola doesn’t look at me as she unzips her buoyancy aid and drops it in the bin of fresh water. I stand up, then find myself wringing my hands in some pointless act of contrition. I want to reach out for her, but something stops me. A force field of unanswered questions. ‘You looked good out there,’ I say, trying to find a way in. ‘How was the wind?’
Lola turns and I flinch under her glare. I can just make out Jack in my peripheral vision, a bemused smile playing on his lips. I twist my body away from him, and spread my shoulders, but it’s a feeble attempt to block him out.
‘Anna offered me a room here,’ I continue. ‘They had a cancellation, but I was thinking that we should find something in town instead, while we sort out your—’
‘Why don’t you want to stay here?’ Lola interrupts, challenging me. ‘It’s paradise.’
‘It is beautiful,’ I admit. ‘But—’
‘Is it because someone died here? And you didn’t save them?’
I draw in a breath. So Jack did tell her. The fucking lying bastard. I look at him, then quickly turn away.
‘Or because you want to continue keeping this place a secret from me, like you’ve done for nearly eighteen years? Even though it clearly fucked you up and I suffer for that every birthday.’
I can feel Jack’s stare boring into my back. He’s not getting a ringside seat to this. ‘Lola, I’m so sorry not to tell you, and I want to talk about this. But not here. Please. Let’s take a walk down the beach. And I promise I’ll explain everything.’
Lola hesitates for a moment, then gives me a curt nod – our bond frayed, but not broken, thank God – and starts walking. I scramble to catch up, then fall in step beside her. Our arms brush and I soak up the feeling of it, but I daren’t risk trying it again.
‘I’m sorry that I’ve kept so much from you,’ I start. ‘You’re right that this place has haunted me, and it was selfish of me not to tell you, to explain. I want to make things right, so ask me anything you want, and I promise I’ll tell you the truth.’ What I really want is to slam the door on my past, grab Lola, and race back to the airport. Sleep in those hard metal chairs until Lola’s new passport is ready. But I’m too late for that. If Jack has told her his version of events, I need her to know mine.
Lola stops walking and turns towards me. ‘You know, it’s weird. You’re my mum, but I feel awkward around you suddenly. Like you’re a stranger. I don’t know what to ask.’
My throat tightens. ‘I know I’ve kept things about my past from you, and it must have been horrible hearing it from someone else—’
‘Why do you leave me?’ Lola asks. ‘I mean, I know it’s because you can’t sleep, and it drives you crazy, literally, but why is that? It’s always around my birthday. And that horrible postcard that you sent to Grams, calling yourself a monster, was dated 1st August. My birthday. That can’t be a coincidence.’
‘It’s complicated,’ I whisper.
‘Seriously?’ Lola throws back. ‘That’s you telling me the truth?’
I wince at the accuracy of her words, then look out to sea. I need to do this. I won’t tell her about the dreams, or Salvo, or his stupid, poisonous claims about me having mazzeri powers, but I will tell her about the real stuff. The guilt.
I take a deep breath. ‘Something terrible happened on that date, around midnight, and yes, someone did die on my watch, a good friend. Every summer, the memories come back, disrupt my sleep, my mental state. And I’m not safe to be around.’
Lola bites her lip. ‘Look, I’m really sorry that happened. And I see that it must have been truly awful for you at the time. But it was all so long ago,’ she says. ‘Isn’t time supposed to heal everything?’
‘Guilt doesn’t come with a use-by date,’ I whisper.
I feel the flutter of Lola’s fingertips on my arm and then they’re gone. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’ she asks softly.
I nod, just slightly, then force myself to think about that night.
I see Izzy’s lifeless body, almost translucent in the sliver of moonlight that sneaked through the clouds.
