In At The Deep End

He was swimming on his back between rocks sticking up above the sea. The water felt icy cold, in fact it was painful to remain still and it was only because the sun shone fiercely on his head and shoulders he could bear the variety in temperature.

Finally, he hauled himself onto the rock closest to shore, skinning his shin in the process. He was used to scrapes and scratches, and wetted a finger to rub the marks into sublimation, lying on his back to lap up the sun. It was then he heard the girl speak. He’d seen her earlier as she came down onto the beach, spreading a towel before sitting down. He didn’t choose to speak to her; it was his beach, and she should learn to play by the rules.

“How is it – the water?” She asked.

Bloody silly question; he refused to look in her direction. “Freezing.”

He hoped she’d go away, disappointed, back to wherever she was staying. Bloody holidaymakers; litterbugs and drunks, blocking up the roads in their stupid cars, blocking up the pavements with their buggies and fat arses, slurping ice cream and dropping take away cartons. He hated their kind.

The girl did not leave, but hung on as if she expected a conversation, dipping her toes into the water as he shielded eyes to take her in. She was scrawny, about fifteen, no meat on her bones as his mother might have remarked. He was scrawny himself, growing up tall and bony; like his Dad, Mum had remarked. He was working on his arm muscles to make them stronger, and swimming was good exercise.

“Going in?” He asked, but she shook her head.

Too timid, he imagined, standing up to dive off the rock in what he had conceived as an acrobatic stunt. He wasn’t trying to impress; in fact he hoped she’d get splashed.

Moments later, she was at his side in the water supporting him beneath the arms. “You struck your head.” She gasped, treading water to keep afloat.

He felt where it hurt, rubbing blithely but that was even more painful.

“Let’s get back to shore.” She said. “It’s bloody freezing and I’m not much of a swimmer.”

He ‘allowed’ her to assist him, borrowing her towel to dry off, as she offered a sip from her water bottle. He felt stunned; this had never happened before, and he felt a little foolish. He didn’t really want her help, but needed to thank her. Even then he couldn’t get the words out.

“I have to go.” He remarked, but couldn’t recall where he’d left his stuff. It was on the beach somewhere.

He found the girl staring. “I’m Kate.”

“Adam.” He responded.

The hot sun disorientated and he needed to lie down.

“Where are you staying?” She asked.

“Nowhere.” He said. “I live here.”

She had a mobile in her hand. “Can I call someone?”

“No.” He didn’t want Gran worried, or Mum called home from work. “No, thanks.” He clarified.

They discovered his stuff and walked together off the beach and onto a narrow lane that led back towards the tiny seaside village. The sun remained blazing hot and it felt as if his head was on fire.

“Does it hurt?” She asked as he winced.

“You a nurse?”

She smiled; she had a chipped tooth, with a silver ring through one eyebrow, studs in her ears and smelled of something clean whenever she came close. Steering him into a café they found a patch of shade and ordered coffee. The hot sweet liquid burned his throat, and he sank into the seat exhausted.

“I’m usually ok.” He remarked. “You put me off.”

“Sorry.” She grinned.

She wasn’t like other girls he’d met and he thought maybe she was ok; time would tell. He went to the toilets to discover a bruise increasing in colour on his forehead, and as he washed his face realised two of his fingers had gone numb. Stupid really; he’d been using the beach all his life, and this one day when the girl was there he’d screwed up. It had to be her fault.

------------------------------------

She was playing one of the machines as he came out and regarded him quietly as she slipped into the seat opposite. “That must be quite painful?”

He fingered the place. “It’s alright. I’ve had worse.”

She began toying with the pendant that hung about her throat as he realised it was his turn to ask questions.

“You on holiday?” He asked.

She nodded. “We’re staying at the caravan park, except it’s boring. Nothing to do, and no one my age. What do you get up to?”

He shrugged, imagining she wouldn’t be into the things he enjoyed.

“So you swim – are you in training?” It seemed such a stupid question he grimaced, and she stared at him puzzled. “Alright – I was only asking.”

He knew he was being a plank and told her about his own boring life. She listened, but there was nothing in it for her to be interested in until he admitted. “My Dad’s in the army – away at the moment. I can’t say where.”

Her eyes grew large. “My Dad too – in Special Op’s.”

“Mine’s a sergeant.” He announced, attempting to cap her.

“My Dad too.” She smiled, but then her gaze drifted. “I miss him terribly.”

He watched her face, hoping she wasn’t about to cry. “I have to go – Gran’s expecting me.”

He stood up too quickly, and placed both hands on the table to steady himself as the café floor began to spin.

“Could be concussion.” She said. “I’ll get you home.”

She led him to Gran’s house, where she was about to press the bell until he produced a key. Inside the dark cool interior with its familiar sights and smells he collapsed onto the sofa.

“You’ll have to go.” He insisted. “I’ll be alright when Gran gets back.”

“I’ll wait.” She promised. “Try closing your eyes.”

He did, feeling her eyes upon him as she asked. “Will I see you again?”

“How do I know?” He answered, realising it was probably the wrong thing to say, but he felt drowsy. And when he opened his eyes again Gran was there, bathing his forehead.

“You’ve been in the wars?” She remarked.

“Where’s the girl - Kate?” He asked.

“Gone.” Gran answered. “Funny little thing – said she had to leave the minute I got in. Where did you meet? She’s just like you. Two peas in a pod. Is that what brought you together – it’s time you had a girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He remarked, as Gran fussed.

He didn’t know if he wanted to see Kate again, but the knock on the head had made him act differently. He put it down to being half conscious; next time he’d be cool, if there was to be a next time.

He wondered if she wouldn’t have saved someone else before then, and smiled. It was odd the effect one girl could have when he’d hardly wanted to know before.

- THE END -