Chapter Fifty-Three
By the time they made it back to the jetty at Rowan Bay, the heavy rain had softened to a smir and the thunder could only be heard now in the distance.
The storm had passed but had left a trail of debris behind.
There was a heaviness in the air, thick and ominous.
Even though they’d managed to get everyone to safety, the man, woman and boy were quiet and sat closely together, wrapped in blankets with pale, shocked faces.
Brodie knew they weren’t necessarily out of the woods yet.
Secondary drowning could be a worry, especially if someone had swallowed water.
They needed to be checked over and he was relieved to see an ambulance waiting.
The shore crew helped the rescued group off the boat with steady hands and led them to the waiting paramedics. Brodie’s own heart was only just returning to a steady pace and he and the rest of the crew were quiet with their own thoughts as the rush and then crash of adrenaline took hold.
‘I think they were lucky,’ said Ross, his voice barely audible.
Brodie nodded as the cold from the loch started to set in.
‘Very. Especially with that wind. Seconds later and it could have been a different story.’ Water and weather could be so unpredictable.
It could be deadly. He was relieved this had been a shout with a positive outcome but it was also a reminder of how fragile life was.
Things could change in an instant. As he started to walk towards the shed, lost in his thoughts, he pulled off his helmet and that’s when he saw her.
Flora, standing there sodden and staring at him.
All too quickly he remembered the look of fear on her face when he had to leave her in the kitchen and run into the storm.
Now, her coat clung to her, her hair was plastered to her face, but she was smiling at him.
That smile. Brodie’s heart twisted. She had come to check he was okay.
But as she started to run towards him he took in her red eyes, as though she’d been crying, and his chest tightened.
She threw her arms around him, clinging to him.
Brodie stumbled slightly but held onto her, a sob catching at the back of his throat.
Pulling away, they looked at each other for a long moment before Brodie reached for her, clasping her hands in his cold fingers.
He kissed her fiercely before resting his head against her forehead.
‘Thank God you’re okay. I was so worried,’ she whispered.
He struggled to grasp that she could care that much about him and had been so worried when nobody else ever had been before. ‘You came,’ he said, his breath catching slightly. ‘And you’re soaked.’
She gave a small half-smile, rain dripping from her hair. ‘Not as wet as you.’
He hesitated, his eyes scanning her face — wanting to say more, needing to say more — but the moment was cut short. ‘I need to go and debrief,’ he said, reluctantly. ‘But . . . I’ll call you later. I promise.’
She nodded. ‘Okay. Make sure you do.’
He touched her arm lightly, then turned and walked up to the shed toward the others. When he looked back a few moments later, she had gone.
After the debrief, all he wanted to do was get home, shut the door behind him and collapse into bed.
‘You okay, mate?’ asked Ross with concern.
‘Yes, just feeling knackered. I think I’ll head back to the flat.’
He nodded. ‘Aye, go and have a kip. I’m going to do the same.’
‘Let’s catch up later and make a plan to finish that gazebo.’ Pulling on his jacket, Brodie left the station and headed back towards his flat. He let himself in the main door and climbed the stairs slowly, feeling as though he was scaling a mountain.
Inside the flat, he pulled off his jacket and placed his phone on the hall table.
It was quiet. Too quiet. He should call Flora.
He said he would. But now the adrenaline had worn off all he wanted to do was sleep.
He sat down wearily on his bed and stared at the screen on his phone.
His thumb hovered over her name. But he couldn’t get the look of how upset she’d been out of his mind.
How relieved she had been when they’d come in from the rescue.
And that kiss. It felt desperate and passionate and raw.
Yet he felt vulnerable, exposed and overwhelmed.
He lay back and closed his eyes. That rescue had shaken him more than he realised.
Maybe it was the teenage boy and the haunted look in his eyes.
It reminded him of that day with his friends all those years ago when they lost Rory.
He thought again about the look on Flora’s face earlier.
It wasn’t frustration at being left, like his previous girlfriend, Hilary, but panic at him going out in the storm.
Putting himself in danger. In that moment he knew he couldn’t do that to her.
He couldn’t ask her to wait in fear while he went out in storms, risking his life.
His mind spiralled in different directions until finally he let sleep take over.