Page 52 of Summer in Sunset Harbour
‘What do you particularly like about the sea to consider it pretty?’
‘I—’
Robinson grinned. ‘Don’t worry. I’m just playing around. Relax.’
‘I am relaxed.’No, I’m not.
Robinson just grinned as he detached a chip from the rest of the soggy clump and tossed it into his mouth.
‘What’s your favourite sea animal?’ he asked.
‘Favourite … I … never really thought about it. Ah … sharks?’
‘Why?’
‘I suppose because they’re kind of like the boss of the sea. Nothing eats them.’
‘Except us, and sometimes killer whales.’
Josie chuckled. ‘I suppose that’s true. So, you don’t like sharks?’
‘Oh, no, I think sharks are great. I just wondered what you thought.’
‘Why? Is this some kind of personality test?’
Robinson popped another chip into his mouth. ‘Nope.’
‘So why ask?’
‘Why not? All right. If you could do anything right now that involves water, what would you do?’
‘Wash?’
Robinson laughed. ‘I was thinking more like water sports. Surfing?’
‘I’ve never tried it.’
‘I could teach you. Although Dad was the master, back in the day.’ He grinned. ‘I am but an apprentice.’
‘Isn’t it scary getting smashed by big waves?’
‘Yeah, but it’s kind of exhilarating. You know, not dying. I kind of like it.’
‘Isn’t that what we’re all doing, day after day? Not dying?’
‘Of course, but we’re not aware of it. Only when you stand a little closer to the edge do you realise how much you appreciate where you are.’
‘And because we’re not really aware of it, we drift and we drift, and suddenly, it’s too late.’ She couldn’t get the image of Hilda, lying in the hospital bed, with a tube in her arm, out of her head. ‘Sometimes … we have to say what we really feel, when we feel it.’
Robinson just gazed out at the sea, popping another chip into his mouth. ‘You’re relaxed now, aren’t you?’
‘Huh?’ Josie laughed. ‘I guess I am.’
‘So, what is it you want to say? Don’t be afraid. Just say it.’
Josie closed her eyes and opened her mouth, trying not to think about what she was going to say, but to let her tongue take on a life of its own. She remembered how it had been so easy in her late teens and early twenties, helped by a glass of wine or two. Now, at forty-five, with a lifetime of playing by the rules behind her, it was infinitely harder.
‘My … I … I think … well … my daughter, and um, my best friend, have been trying to look out for me after what my ex-husband did.’
