Page 33 of Catch of a Lifetime
Long lines of tangled gorse followed the ragged curve of land, which dropped off at a dangerously steep angle to plunge into the sea below. The path was set back from the very edge, but even so, I wouldn’t chance it on a blustery day.
Today wasn’t a blustery day.
Today was a perfect day.
It was as if the damp and miserable weather had just been waiting for Dave to show up before it got its party clothes on. Only instead of romping around outside and making the most of it, first of all we’d been stuck in the house while Dave’s woundshealed up, and then he’d fucked off, and now here I was in my shorts, t-shirt, hiking boots, and bad mood, trudging along and every now and then shooting a dark glare over at the glorious, uncaring blue sea.
I had no idea what the hell Dave was playing at.
Had he gone?
I didn’t know. I didn’tthinkhe had, but…I didn’t know.
After being cooped up with me for days, had he realised that he was just not that into me?
Hands fisted in my pockets, I kicked a large chunk of rock out of my way. It skipped along the stony, rutted path and disappeared over the edge. A couple of seconds later, I heard a faint and distant splash.
I didn’tknow.
If you’d have asked me two months ago, I’d have said with the utmost confidence that, yes. Dave and I were solid.
We were together.
It was long term.
We were securely into our happily-ever-after years.
I wouldn’t have had even a flicker of a doubt. He loved me and I loved him. I’d have bet Jerry’s life on it.
And that was saying a lot.
I liked to swan about congratulating myself on being an independent man, but when it came down to it, I wasn’t stupid, or oblivious.
The reason I could handle being alone for six months out of the year while waiting for Dave was because I wasn’t, in fact, alone.
I had Jerry.
And now I had doubts.
There was so much—somuch—that I simply didn’t know about Dave. Perhaps I was taking a lot of things for granted thatsimply might not be true for a merman. Things such as a love like ours was permanent.
Things such as the ever-after part of happily ever after.
I turned to stare at the sparkling expanse of deep blue rolling out and out and out before me. On the horizon, a distant freighter stacked high with colourful shipping containers was moving so slowly, it appeared frozen.
Maybe for Dave, it wasn’t permanent.
Maybe mermen loved passionately, intensely…
…and temporarily.
The next day,which made four whole days since I’d last seen him, I wandered down to the beach, drawn to the sea as I always was. I’d intended to walk along the headland again, having taken a small amount of admittedly petty satisfaction in shunning the shore, but by the time I realised where I was, I already had the sand beneath my boots.
Once or twice, I’d wondered if being bonded to a merman had done something to me.
I’d always loved the sea. It was why I’d come to live in Lynwick in the first place. There was a difference to the way I loved it now, though. There was a depth, a resonance, an extra dimension. I didn’t just want to go down to the shore. It wasn’t anything as simple as a preference; it was a pull.
A call I couldn’t resist.
