Chapter 22
Felix and I talked until after two a.m., when the sky had deepened in darkness and the stars were at their brightest. The night became cold, and I walked home with his arm round me.
Something felt new. Like I’d walked through a door I couldn’t close.
He’d opened up so fully to me. Late, maybe, but he did it.
And it must have been so hard to tell me all that about his brother.
I’d felt it in his kiss, the desperate longing to be understood.
I fell asleep thinking about Felix, about the kiss, about all the things we’d shared, and then I thought about being with him. How I’d shared more of myself than just words, and how perfect it had seemed.
When I woke after only a few hours’ sleep, everything was different.
But only in my head. All my thoughts felt weighted.
Like every thought of Felix came with one of Antoine and vice versa.
The chemistry with Antoine I couldn’t deny, this craving that came from somewhere I’d never felt before.
And it wasn’t just physical; it was a need to hear him praise me.
To impress him. This urge to be better for him.
I walked slowly to the beach, tearing off pieces of buttery croissant and letting them melt in my mouth, thinking.
My stomach flipped in anticipation. I couldn’t wait to see Antoine.
But the way we’d left things yesterday …
And then I felt guilty. This tangle of thoughts that made me ashamed because I wasn’t just thinking about the anniversary and how difficult the day was for Felix.
And I was, of course I was. But I couldn’t control the other things that came into my head.
When I got to the end of the lane and it opened on to the beach, I’d expected to see Antoine’s silhouette, as I usually did, beside the beach hut. But he wasn’t there.
I carried my board to the hut. Put it down and looked through the windows.
There was nobody there. And it was locked.
The weight of disappointment shocked me.
It left me rooted to the spot for a second.
I just stood there, looking around, as if Antoine was going to appear out of thin air.
Then I saw a note taped to the wall near the door.
Princesse,
I am sorry. Cannot teach today
Do not surf alone, wait for Delphine’s group lesson at 10.
Antoine
Right then, I wished we’d exchanged numbers. But it had never come up, and although I’m sure he must have one, I never saw Antoine with a phone. He was never walking around staring into a screen like everyone did back home.
The condescension stung. Do not surf alone – as if all the lessons, all the praise, all the chemistry meant nothing, and I was just some tourist who’d taken one lesson.
No explanation. Just orders. Had the connection all been in my head?
Those lingering touches. Was I imagining everything?
The electricity? The way him touching my hand felt like he’d lit a match in my veins and my whole body was on fire?
But what if … it was just me who felt this way?
I pulled the note from the wall and crumpled it in my hand, leaving it on the sand in front of the door.
I turned round and dug my foot into the sand in frustration. I stared out at the waves. Small. Manageable. Do not surf alone. Ugh! I wasn’t about to let Antoine tell me what to do. Not when he wasn’t even here. He didn’t own the beach.
I took off my denim shorts and sliders and walked towards the sea with the board under my arm, the cord round my ankle.
I put it down in the water and took a deep breath.
I jumped on the board and paddled out, just like I’d done yesterday and the day before and the day before.
And it was easy, catching the little waves that rushed to the shore.
The adrenaline was back, turning my body into something charged with electricity.
I sat on the board and stared out at the ocean.
At the sun that was rising, at the other surfers in the water, who were so far down the beach that they were barely visible.
Something about this moment just felt right.
So I went deeper, hunting for a bigger wave.
I watched them come in. The sets. Let myself float over the first few, waiting for one that felt right.
And there it was, the perfect wave. I paddled hard, pulling my cupped hands through the water, chin up. I popped up, leaned on my back foot and did everything Antoine told me. I used my speed and let the feeling take over entirely. I was hooked.
I caught another wave, and another. Soon my arms and legs were aching.
I wasn’t ready to stop. But when I looked back to the shore, I had to squint.
It was further away than it had been. Like a lot further away.
I looked down the beach and couldn’t see the other surfers at all any more.
I was drifting out. I tried to paddle back towards shore, but I was barely moving, and my arms were so tired.
Shit.
What did Antoine say about rip currents? I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember. And then I was there, standing on the sand, with Antoine so close behind me I could almost hear his heartbeat.
‘And you see where the waves are not breaking? Look, there is a calm bit right there … That is your ba?ne. Rip current. It can be dangerous. Sometimes people panic and they try to swim against it, but you must never panic.’
Calm. I had to calm down.
I tried again, paddling towards the shore. But I just wasn’t moving anywhere. I thought about Mum, Dad, Rue and Wren asleep in the mobile home.
How could I be so fucking stupid?
‘Help!’ I called. To who? I couldn’t see anyone and the shore was getting further and further away.
Parallel.
So I turned my board, tried to regulate my breathing and started to paddle across instead of head on. But, just as I did, a huge wave smashed down on top of me like a ton of bricks and I was dragged under the water.
I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe, and all I could hear was the roar of the water around me.
It was too strong.
I couldn’t compete with the waves.