Chapter Eleven
Monty
M onty stood on the cool beach at the edge of the water, staring out at the rolling waves. Some of them looked at least eight feet high – bigger than him anyway. He’d left his glasses back at the container, but even without them, the sea looked endless. A pair of wet-shoes formed a barrier between his skin and the sand, but even with them on he wasn’t sure he wanted to get into the water. That was the Atlantic Ocean, for heaven’s sake. A shiver ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
‘Come on.’ Iona turned back and smiled. She was already ankle-deep and had walked in as routinely as she might walk into the supermarket.
Monty groaned, then inched forward. A shock of cold ran up his leg and he froze, unable to go further.
‘It’s bloody cold,’ he muttered.
Iona took a few steps back towards him. ‘Once you’re in, it’s fine. Your body will acclimatise fast. Come on. This bit is so shallow, it’s not even as deep as a puddle.’
He huffed out a laugh. Of course, she was right, but he couldn’t help being cautious. He took a deep breath and waded in. As the cold water got to his waist, it shocked his nervous system. He made it to where Iona stood, taking calming breaths. ‘It’s baltic.’
‘You’ll get used to it and you’ll find it surprisingly warm.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ She grinned at him.
The ocean looked vast from here, so easy to get lost in. The further out they went, the rougher the swell got; it was sure to engulf them if they went another step. The noise was incredible, crashing and slapping as wave after wave hit.
‘Are you sure this is safe?’ Monty called over the tumult. ‘Won’t we get washed away?’
‘Give me your hands.’ Iona held hers out.
‘Why?’
‘To stop you from worrying. I’ll hold on to you.’
Monty gazed at her for a moment. She was a wild adventurer, but she also looked trustworthy. He placed his hands in hers, feeling the pressure of her grip. ‘Now, we’re just going to go a bit further.’
‘Further?’
Iona moved backwards, guiding him. The water surged around them. He held on to her, allowing her to lead him. The skin-to-skin contact anchored him and he took deep breaths. The sense of uncertainty slowly edged away. If he mastered himself, he could almost see why someone might enjoy this – if they had more skill than him.
‘See, not so bad.’ She raised an eyebrow.
Monty laughed, the sound surprising even himself. ‘Easy for you to say.’
‘Just keep your eyes on me.’ Her cheeks flared a little as she said it, but Monty obeyed. He wasn’t sure he wanted to look anywhere else. ‘That way you won’t panic about how big the sea is,’ she said.
As if she needed to.
She led him further out until they were chest deep. The waves lifted them gently, and the wild swells seemed to subside somehow into a calmer motion.
‘Ok.’ Iona stopped, still holding his hands. ‘We’re going to duck.’
Monty threw her a look. ‘What? I’m not putting my head under.’
‘You don’t have to.’ Her grip on his hands tightened briefly. ‘Just lower yourself down so your chin is resting on the surface. Like this.’ She sank down, not letting go. Her head peered out of the water like a seal. ‘Now you try.’
‘Ok.’ With a sharp inhale, he bent his knees, pulling himself down.
‘Not bad, right?’ Iona beamed at him.
‘Not bad at all.’ He smiled in spite of himself.
Iona let go of his hands and floated back a bit, the hair from her ponytail swirling around her. How like a mermaid was she? Or maybe a siren. Because something about her was very alluring. ‘Did you ever learn to swim?’ she asked.
‘At school. About a hundred years ago, but it was never something I enjoyed.’ That was an understatement. The days of shivering at the side of the pool waiting for his turn were etched into his mind as a particularly painful part of his school life.
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, hopefully it’ll come back to you. Do you know how to tread water?’
Monty nodded. ‘Yeah, I think I can manage that.’
‘Great. Like this.’ She demonstrated, kicking her legs in a rhythmic motion.
Monty mimicked her movements, the water pushing against him. It was harder than it looked, and he felt a bit stupid.
‘That’s it.’ Iona’s eyes travelled over him, confirming how daft he must look. Why else would she eye him like that? ‘Now, try some strokes with your arms and if you’re able to push forward, then do it.’
Monty took a deep breath. He’d got this far. He was in the sea and actually it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. The initial stab of cold had fizzled out and while he wouldn’t call it warm, it wasn’t that cold either, just bearable enough to not want to get out and curl up in a rug next to a fire – though later on he might. He pushed forward into the water, the way he remembered, but also in a way that felt intuitive. His arms cut the path and his legs moved him forward. He was nowhere near as graceful as Iona, who was bobbing around like a seal, ducking under and then surfacing with seemingly no effort at all.
‘You’re doing fine.’ She swam closer. ‘Just try raising your shoulders a little more. It’ll keep your chin out of the water.’ She put her hands under him, holding his shoulders as he kicked like a frog.
‘I feel like a kid at swimming lessons.’
She smiled, and he blinked. Sometimes, without his glasses, he felt more exposed than ever to external scrutiny. Her face was close and, although she was holding him in this stupid position, the moment was oddly intimate. Not something he should be thinking about. Keeping afloat was really all that should matter, but breaking eye contact was difficult. When their eyes connected, strange currents of energy bolted through him. Or maybe it was just the waves lapping over him.
‘You’re getting the hang of it.’ Iona moved her hands, almost instantly swimming off. He couldn’t keep up, but he was swimming. Actual, proper swimming in the sea. This had to count for something in the adventure stakes.
Monty’s chest swelled with pride and something else he couldn’t quite identify.
Iona flipped over and floated on her back. ‘You’re doing great for someone who didn’t want to come in at all.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Try this, if you feel up for it. It’s so relaxing.’
‘I’m not sure I dare.’
‘Here.’ She came back to him. ‘Turn around and lie back. I’ll hold you, so you can get the feel of it.’
Monty hesitated, then turned his back to her. He leaned back, letting the water support him. Iona placed her hands under his shoulders, guiding him.
‘Just relax,’ she whispered, her breath warm against his ear, sending tingles through his cool skin. ‘The water will hold you up.’
He took a deep breath, forcing calm. The gently rocking waves cradled him. Iona’s hands stayed steady.
‘How’s that?’
Monty closed his eyes for a moment, the gentle sun on his face and the cool water all around him. ‘Feels weird, but kind of nice.’
Iona laughed. ‘Exactly. Shall I let go?’
‘Ok.’ For a moment, he kept the relaxed pose, before floundering and splashing about to regain his feet. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.
‘No need to be. It takes practise.’
Monty returned to his stomach and started swimming, his strokes becoming more confident. He could do this. What would Sophie make of it? He tried to imagine her face and her reaction, but his brain kept pushing Iona into the forefront. Oh well, maybe that was common sense. He should pay attention to Iona because if she wasn’t here, he’d be in trouble.
‘Look at you, practically a pro now.’ Iona winked.
‘Hardly. But you’re a good teacher. I admire your patience with a noob like me.’
She smiled at him, and he returned it. Warmth seeped into his veins. When she smiled, she was very beautiful. It definitely suited her more than the scowl she’d worn the first few times he’d met her. Clearly water made her happy. And seeing her like that filtered into him. Why shouldn’t he enjoy this? Whatever he’d dreaded about it wasn’t happening. His limbs were lighter and tension ebbed away from his muscles. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly alive and unfettered.
‘I think we could try the body boards,’ Iona said.
‘Sure, why not?’ Monty quirked his lip, and she raised her eyebrows.
‘Loving the sense of adventure.’
Hopefully she wasn’t the only one who would.
Iona headed back to the shore. Monty watched her leave the water and cross the beach like someone from Baywatch, though without his glasses, she was somewhat blurred . Her wetsuit fitted her well and she had a lithe figure, well-toned from all the exercise. What did people think of his body? He wasn’t as scrawny as he used to be thanks to the running, but he was no bodybuilder.
He practised a bit of swimming, trying to relax into the backstroke as he waited for her to return. A few moments later, she came out carrying two boards. She waded back to him.
‘You ready for this?’
‘As I’ll ever be.’ Monty ran his fingers through his wet hair. ‘What do I do?’
‘Watch me first.’ She handed him a board. ‘You hold it like this, then get ready for a wave, by watching behind. When you see one coming, lean in and ride it in.’ She waited, then in a fluid movement soared into it, lying flat on her board, letting the wave carry her ashore. She got up and lifted her board before turning back to him. ‘You gonna try?’
Monty held the board and checked behind him. If this worked, it would be nothing short of a miracle. A wave passed but he wasn’t quick enough. ‘I haven’t got the timing,’ he muttered.
Iona reached him and positioned herself, looking back over her shoulder. ‘Here comes another good one. Get ready, we’ll go together.’
Monty glanced back, seeing the swell approaching. ‘Ok.’
‘Now!’ Iona surged forward.
Monty threw himself onto the board, but his timing was off, and the wave crashed over him. For a second, he was blind and couldn’t breathe. Cold dread and fear slapped him as he scrabbled about, flat on the board. Then something gripped his arm, and he opened his eyes, blinking water out of them. Iona came into focus, grinning as she pulled him to his feet.
‘You ok?’
‘What happened? I thought I was drowning.’
She shook her head with a little laugh. ‘You just kind of faceplanted. Let’s try again, only keep the board angled up a bit.’
‘There’s so much to remember. I don’t think I’ll manage it.’ He ran his hand through his wet hair.
‘Don’t overthink it. Use intuition more than technical stuff. Just kind of feel the waves.’
‘I’m not sure my brain works that way.’
‘Try. Watch and listen to the waves. Feel the motion and the pattern.’
He did as she said, somewhat surprised he wasn’t feeling seasick, as he fell into the rhythm and the movement. Natural and erratic as it was, it still had a pattern, like Iona said, and he waited until he was certain. Then he chose a wave, watched it… caught it. He clung on as it lifted him. For a moment, his breath stopped. Would he be pulled under again? But the wave carried him forward, and he glided onto the beach. Still lying clinging to the board, he heard Iona speaking not far away.
‘You did it.’
He breathed and pulled himself to his feet. ‘That wasn’t as bad as I thought.’
‘Well done.’ She reached out and patted him on the arm. ‘That was great. How did it feel?’
‘Not bad, I guess.’
‘Let’s do it again.’
‘Ok.’
They paddled back out. This time, it didn’t seem as daunting. In fact, it was almost enjoyable. Each time he waited, feeling the rhythm, then caught another wave, an invisible hook seemed to tug him back into the water to do it again and again, either in an attempt to do better this time or something else entirely.
‘You can’t say you’re not enjoying this now, can you?’ Iona caught his eye as they waited for the next wave.
‘Yeah… It’s ok.’
‘Ok?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Come on, Monty. Give me something more. Show me the passion, the fire.’
He chuckled. ‘You’re crazy.’
‘Me? Watch out, you’re missing one.’ She leapt onto the board and glided on the wave. Her movement was so elegant, she almost looked like she didn’t need the board.
Monty waited for a moment, then caught a wave, riding it all the way to the shore again.
As they waded back out again, Iona moved closer. ‘I think you’ve really got the hang of this.’
‘Which is somewhat surprising.’
Clouds had rolled over the sun and some warmth drained from the surrounding air.
‘Looks like it might rain.’ Iona glanced up. ‘Not that it matters. We’re wet anyway. But if you want to stop at any time, just say.’
‘Maybe one or two more.’ Monty eyed her, and she grinned.
‘You’ve got the bug.’
They waded out again, catching more waves. The sea, so intimidating an hour ago, now felt like a playground. This was actually quite fun, but with the gathering clouds, cold was creeping in and Monty shivered a little. Maybe this was the right time to call it a day.
‘Let’s get dried and dressed then,’ Iona said. ‘I’ve got a kettle in the container. I can make us some tea or hot chocolate to warm up with.’
Monty followed her up the shore, across the tarred area and into the container. Getting the wetsuit off wasn’t the easiest now his limbs were cooling off. He vigorously towelled himself down in the tiny changing area, and his mind wandered to Iona. Where was she changing? Was there another cubicle? Why did he even care? But his blood rushed south at the thought, and he ground his teeth.
Seriously?
It’d been a while since he’d had any bedroom action. Sophie had stopped being interested in the end of their relationship. No doubt that was due to his vanilla performance. Well, today had been far from dull. He’d made the first step to doing something a little more adventurous. He pulled on his boxer briefs, adjusting the fit as more thoughts barraged his brain. Ruaridh had suggested Iona didn’t mind quick flings with guys she met through surfing. Maybe she used this container for more than just changing in. Was sex on the beach more than a cocktail for her?
All of that seemed like a fantasy to him. He’d confined his sexual activities to the bedroom so far, which pretty much confirmed his status as vanilla. And make that a double scoop. But things were changing. He’d done something way out of the zone today. What else could he do if he put his mind to it?