Šipan
The lights from the harbour soon faded, leaving her in total darkness.
Although the moon had been full last night, it was only just beginning to ease its way over the hills of the Pelje?ac, so once she left the road she switched on the torch on her phone, flashing its light along the path ahead to avoid tripping over tree roots or sliding down onto the rocks below.
It was just as well she had to concentrate on where she was putting her feet, because thoughts of Pajo were clamouring in her head.
And not in a good way. She had yet to reply to his message, but honestly, it was a total no-brainer.
He’d only asked her to visit his apartment.
She just needed to type “Sure, we’ll fix something up”, and that would be that. So why couldn’t she?
Ever since she’d watched the young mother on the beach at Lopud, she’d been wondering more and more what it would be like being a mum?
Although nothing had actually been said, her parents clearly expected her to have kids; she was their only child and they had a business to pass on.
Perhaps if she didn’t want to work for them herself, grandchildren might be the solution.
But how would children fit with Dida Krila?
She really didn’t think they would. And yet …
yet … what if she let this chance of motherhood pass by, then in a year or two decided she wanted it more than anything?
She needed to talk this Pajo situation through with Meri, to see if her friend could help her make some sense of it.
Meri was a mother, and despite the fact she absolutely doted on her grown-up son Zac, her undoubtedly biased angle on parenthood would still be useful.
To be fair, any angle would be, and Ana had learnt to trust Meri’s judgement.
Maybe even more than she trusted her own.
And anyway, it would be fun to surprise her on Saturday and take her out to dinner at her favourite restaurant to thank her for all she’d done today.
As she’d expected, the beach was deserted, so she slipped off her clothes and tucked them, along with her phone, under her towel.
She hesitated for a moment. Did she dare remove her bikini as well?
Would anyone come? The cloak of darkness would protect her and the silken embrace of the water over every inch of her body was too alluring to resist.
The contrast with the stultifying night air was blissful, making the small hairs on her arms stand to attention as she immersed her naked body.
The tiniest of breezes ruffled her hair as with slow strokes she approached the headland, the easy roll of the sea caressing her as she swam. Water. Her element. Her comfort.
She floated on her back, gazing up at the stars in the distant velvet sky.
The moon was higher now, casting its searchlight beam over the waves, and where they kissed the rocks flashes of phosphorescence glowed turquoise-silver, a sight so rare it caught her breath.
This was just so bloody perfect and she whispered a thank you to Dida for opening her eyes, and her life, to such joy.
The gentle sparkle and wash in her partially submerged ears was interrupted by the scrunch of footsteps on the beach.
Bugger. Bugger, bugger, bugger. Just her luck if a gang of kids was bringing their beer cans and smart speakers down for a party.
Sranje, she’d need some front to get out of the water if that was the case.
But no; thankfully it was one set of footsteps, now drawn to a halt.
There was a rustle of clothing, then she half heard, half sensed she was no longer alone in the sea.
She spun over and clung to the nearest rock.
Her eyes now well-adjusted to the moonlight, she recognised the man she had spoken to before – from his silhouette at least. Long limbs, broad shoulders, firm buttocks.
He was as naked as she was, and for a fleeting moment seemed part of the perfection of the night.
A fleeting moment before she saw him stoop, trickle water over his arms and torso, then dip forwards and start to swim.
Ana waited, silent and still by her rock, but the steady rhythm of his strokes told her he was heading towards her.
She could, maybe should, alert him to her presence, but any sound at all would shatter the magic of swimming alone in the dark.
For both of them. Instead she watched, mesmerised, as the phosphorescence trailed over his arms and legs, highlighting his progress.
When he was only metres away he paused and looked towards her.
She wanted to somehow tell him not to speak, not to spoil it, but he clearly felt it too, because he put his finger to his lips.
She nodded, then waited until he had passed before making her reluctant way back to the shore.
He was a kindred spirit, unashamed of his own nakedness, craving the same silent communion with the water as she felt.
It intrigued her, drew her to him in a way she found hard to define.
But it was nothing, really. A fleeting moment, that was all, and much as she wanted to prolong it, decency dictated she needed to be dressed and away from the beach while he was still in the water.