Chapter 30
There’s a time and a place for Oliver James’s dazzling smile, and seven in the morning, after he’s spent over an hour in the bathroom, is not it.
‘Good morning, Nelly,’ he chirps.
I’ve been waiting outside the bathroom door like a Dickensian orphan, listening to him apply a hair mask and talk to himself about how long his bout of writer’s block will last.
My eyes are puffy, my patience is wearing thin, and he’s standing there dripping, fresh from the shower, his damp hair cascading down his forehead like he’s stepped out of a romantic comedy.
His dressing gown slips slightly. Just enough to reveal a triangle of tanned skin on the chest. Something inside me stirs.
It looks divine. I try to suppress it. I tear my eyes away, my cheeks flushing.
‘Everything okay, Nelly?’
‘Yes,’ I mumble, and he walks away whistling.
‘Oliver, last night you were talking in your sleep…?’
He stops. ‘Did I say anything interesting?’
‘You talked about your love of… trucks. Big red trucks.’
Something flickers across his face. ‘I’ve no idea where that came from, Nelly.’ He gives his damp hair a flick. ‘You also talked in your sleep.’
I blink in surprise. My heart has started to pound inside my chest. I am now praying I didn’t mention my curse. ‘Me? What did I say?’
‘Water,’ he says. ‘You said something about it being your friend.’
Relief spreads through me. ‘Margo’s book. It was on my mind before I fell asleep.’
The memory of him fresh out of the shower stays with me and, to my frustration, is still on my mind as I board the train to Tide-Leigh.
As I leave the station I catch sight of the sparkling blue sea beyond the pier.
On my way to Aunt Polly’s, I pass a little beach shop.
In the window is an array of swimming costumes and caps.
There is a navy-blue one-piece costume which catches my eye, and a pink swimming cap which makes me think of Mum.
Without hesitation, I go to the shop and buy them both.
After stuffing them in my bag, I head for Aunt Polly’s house.
‘Hello, Nelly.’ She casts me a weak smile and pulls her dark grey cardigan around her. Today she’s sporting a black woollen hat. ‘I didn’t like the cap, so I bought this.’
I smile. ‘You look good in both. Are you okay?’
‘I’m feeling a bit tired. Nothing we can’t handle.’ I reach out and squeeze her hand. The same vision featuring the little silver chain with the padlock remains unchanged.
I drive her to the hospital, and Nigella is her usual difficult self. At one point, Aunt Polly tells me off for muttering bad things about the car under my breath.
Aunt Polly’s chemo day at the hospital is lengthy but event-free. We play cards, discuss celebrities in a gossip magazine someone left behind on a chair, talk about the novel she’s reading, struggle over a crossword and talk to the nurse.
After I drive us back, Aunt Polly tells me she wants to sit on her bed. I get her settled, and I even manage to get her TV working, which makes her happy, as it’s been playing up.
‘I’ll be downstairs,’ I explain. ‘Shout if you need anything.’
She reaches out for my hand and gently squeezes it. I smile as I see the padlock on the bracelet. Reaching into my pocket, I grab a boiled sweet and suck on it until the sound returns.
Aunt Polly is smiling at me. ‘Thank you, Nelly.’
‘We’re family, this is what we do.’
‘We are family.’
I notice her cheeks are damp. ‘Hey, you’re not allowed to get upset on my watch.’
I grab her box of tissues and hand her one.
‘I feel rotten, Nelly,’ she sobs. ‘I’m struggling.’
‘It’s understandable, but you’re doing so well. Come on. Dry your eyes.’
She smiles. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
I watch her sink back into her pillows. ‘Ignore me. I’m having a moment.’
‘I have had many moments over the years. I think you’re allowed to have some now.’
She nods. ‘I’ll be okay.’
‘On Sunday, I think we need to go to the Sailing Boat Café and eat cake.’
We laugh, and I kiss her on the cheek.
I go downstairs with a heavy heart. To distract myself from worrying about Aunt Polly, I tackle the pile of laundry, clean the kitchen, and water all her plants on the patio.
I’m about to tidy her living room when I catch sight of the swimming cap sticking out of my handbag.
Something inside me shifts. I can hear Oliver talking about healing and I recall parts of Margo’s excellent book.
The urge to get into the water is strong.
‘I’m just popping out,’ I shout up the stairs to Aunt Polly.
Before I leave, I put my new costume on under my clothes and grab a towel.
Time slows down as I hurry to the beach. I dump my clothes behind a rock and find a quiet spot to enter the water.
Waves rush over to say hello as I step in. My heart is hammering inside my chest. Will it bring back painful memories of Mum? The water is cold, but it’s not freezing. Am I brave enough to do this? A little voice from deep inside me answers. It says yes, and this was what Mum wanted me to do.
Once fully submerged, I lie back in the water and float. The sea nurses me. Its waves massage my legs and arms. Even the coldness has a therapeutic quality. For a long time, I let it carry me. The sky above me is a cloudless blue, and the sun’s golden rays dance on top of the water.
This is heavenly. The water and I greet each other like we’re old friends. I can be alone here. There’s no pressure to explain myself, to talk about my curse or question why it exists. Whatever happens in my life, I will always have the water as a friend.
I feel liberated from my worries about Aunt Polly, my curse and my thoughts about Oliver.