The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper(75)

Who would care?

A few months ago, he would say that no one would care. But then he and Lucy had reconnected. He and Sylvie had kissed. Bernadette cared for him.

It was when he thought of Lucy that he forced himself to stand up. She needed him. He needed her. It was a relief to hear the shingle crunch under his feet, that he hadn’t carried out what the sea willed him to do. Lucy. She had been through enough with her miscarriage, her marriage ending, losing her mother. He would have to be a selfish old fool to kill himself and bring more tragedy to her door. He stepped backward again and again until his feet hit a bank of pebbles. He sat back on a rock and stared at the bracelet in his hand. It shone so brightly against the dark gray of the pebbles and sea and inky sky. The heart seemed to glow.

There was a halo of water around his feet as he sat next to a rock pool. A tiny gray crab swayed, suspended in the seawater, still enough to be dead. Arthur watched it for a while. It was trapped. The tide would go out. The sun might come out and dry up the water. The crab’s little body would dry to a crisp.

He dipped his fingertips into the water. The crab moved one claw and then was still. It was as if it was waving at him. Arthur slid his hand in farther. His little friend was acting out its own variation of a National Trust statue routine.

“You might die if you stay in that rock pool,” he said out loud. “You’ll be stranded. You’ll be safer in the sea.” He cupped his hand and the crab drifted into his palm. Arthur gently lifted up his hand. He and the crab stared at each other for a while. It had black pinprick eyes. “Don’t be scared,” he said.

He carried it to the sea and waited until a small wave crept up onto the beach. Then he deposited it at the water’s edge. It paused for a moment as if to say thanks and goodbye, then it sidestepped toward the water. A gentle wave swept over it, and when the water eased away the crab was gone.

Arthur stared at its vacant spot on the beach. Perhaps I’ve been stuck in a rock pool, too, he thought. I need to be in the sea, even if it’s scary and unknown. If I don’t do it, then I will shrivel and die.

He imagined what Lucy would say if she saw him here, soaked to the skin, rescuing a crab. “You’ll catch your death. Come and get warm.” It’s what he would have said to her when she was a child. The idea of their roles being reversed was strange. He thought that Miriam would find it funny, too.

It didn’t matter what he did now. He was a widower. There was no one to tell him how to live. Why, if he wanted to perform a silly jig in the sea, he could do. In fact, why shouldn’t he? He kicked up his feet and waited until waves rushed toward him and he kicked and danced. “Look at me, Miriam.” He laughed hysterically as the tears rolled down his cheeks, mingled with the raindrops. “I’m being silly. I forgive you. You didn’t tell me things because you thought it was for the best. I have to trust that you did it for the right reasons. And I’m still alive. I wish you were, too, but you’re not. And I want to live even though it hurts. I don’t want to be a dried-up crab.”

He broke into a jog and then intermittently strolled and ran along the water’s edge, dipping in and out of the sea, the icy water reminding him that he was alive. He flung out his arms and embraced the wind, letting it whistle through his clothes and sting his eyes.

He had to forgive and forget. There was no other way.

He hugged himself and walked into the wind until he reached a beach café. He saw that the dark clouds were blowing over. The sun peeked through. Raindrops sparkled along the edge of the blue-and-white-striped canopy. Puddles on the pavement shone like mirrors.

A couple opened the door and made their way inside. They had a fox terrier with them, its fur wet and curled. Water dribbled down their waterproof trousers and coats. “I’m just as wet as they are,” he told himself, but thought what Miriam might say. “You can’t go in in that state.” But he could go in. He shivered as a welcome warm jet of air blasted his cheeks as he stepped inside.

“Gosh. Just look at you,” a lady in a cheerful yellow apron said to him. “Let’s dry you off a bit.” She disappeared behind the counter, then brought him a fluffy sky blue towel. “Rub yourself down.” She handed the couple a scruffier towel for their dog. “It’s as miserable as sin out there. Did you get caught out while you were walking? The weather can just turn like that.” She snapped her fingers. “One minute everything is lovely and then it all goes dark and gloomy. The sun always comes out, though, love. I think we’re at that stage now. It will be bright soon.”

Arthur used the towel to blot and wipe and rub himself. He was still soaking wet but his face was dry. He saw a young couple share a hot chocolate. The girl had dark hair like Miriam and the boy was skinny with too much hair. Their drink was in a tall glass and topped with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. When the lady in the yellow apron came to take his order he asked for one, too. It arrived with a chocolate flake on the side and a long spoon. He sat in the window and watched the raindrops on the glass. He scooped up the cream and savored every mouthful, blowing and sipping at the hot syrupy liquid.

When he was finished, he jumped on the train at the station, and then onto the bus home. His clothes clung to him, swishing as he walked. As he neared the house his mobile vibrated in his pocket. Bernadette had left a text message. Call me, it said.