The Ladies' Midnight Swimming Club(27)

He walked about the property first, taking in the rattling wind, the sea air and the freezing drops of rain that fell in spikes on his shoulders and were cold enough to penetrate his jacket. A narrow paving led right around the house. There was no place here for livestock or any kind of farming venture. The owners had seen to it that this place was low on maintenance and uncomplicated. After walking all about the house and glancing through the windows, he knew he would have to go inside. Not that he was putting it off exactly, but probably, it was the idea that once he was in, that was it; he was tired after the journey. There would be no going out to get wet and blown away again. He would settle down with his cooked chicken, his bottle of burgundy and his thoughts.

Going back to the car again, he pulled out his groceries and key for the cottage. He slid it into the keyhole and the door opened easily. The rental agents had emailed a list of instructions to him and he remembered them once more. He already had a mental to-do list for when he got in the door: everything from turning on the central heating to checking that water was running clear before he filled the kettle for a cup of tea. There was a whole paragraph about how to manage the well should he find himself without clear running water. Apparently, there were pumps and electrics involved and if the worst happened, they had included a plumber’s mobile number with a good luck shamrock by its side.

Inside the door, he reached for a light switch. The bulb threw a weak glow about the porch and as he pushed past the next door. It opened into a warmer than expected room. The heat was not the only thing that surprised him.

The boy was half sitting on the hearth rug, his back against the couch. He smiled lazily, as if he wasn’t sure if he was seeing things or if Dan was actually there before him. Dan couldn’t take in much more than the gash that ran along the side of the boy’s head, but in his periphery vision, he caught the half bottle of vodka, the overturned chair, the empty pot noodles and the bloodstain on the rug. This apparition pulled Dan up short for a moment – perhaps he was in the wrong house? But then quickly, he went over the details of the key in his pocket, the description of the journey and the fact that everything about the cottage was exactly as he’d remembered. He knew that the mistake had not been his.

‘Hullo,’ the boy said and there was the unmistakable sound of drunkenness in his almost breaking voice.

‘Hello, yourself,’ Dan said, dropping his bag down on the floor and pushing out the door. ‘I suppose, you’re the welcoming committee?’ he asked, not entirely sure what else to say.

‘Yup, you’re welcome. Fancy a… drink?’ he managed between hiccups.

‘How many of those have you had exactly?’

‘What are you? My mother?’ The boy’s features turned suddenly dark.

‘Hardly, but let’s face it, you’ve had enough – coffee, that’s what you need,’ he said and turned back towards his car to carry in more of the provisions he’d just picked up in the supermarket. It was as he was switching on the kettle that something dawned on him. ‘You’re not Niall? Are you?’

‘How’d you know that?’ The boy looked as if Dan had just divined some rare truth.

‘How did I know?’ Dan blew out an exasperated breath. ‘Because half the village is out looking for you, that’s how. Your mother is probably beside herself with worry and they’re going to deploy a lifeboat out on the bay to find you as soon as the storm dies down.’

‘Well it’s nice to hear I’ve been missed,’ Niall slurred.

‘I’m sure it is.’ Dan bit down on the anger that was rising up in him. ‘Anyway, it’s time to ring your mum, and then we’ll see about getting you into some shape and back to her.’ He picked up the kid’s mobile from the chair at his shoulder and handed it to him. The boy scowled at him from beneath knitted eyebrows. ‘Seriously, she’s going to be in a bad way. The whole village is up to ninety worrying about you…’ He let his words peter off, but the boy just stared at him. ‘Look, make the call; do you really want to be responsible for someone being drowned out in that sea while they’re searching for you? Don’t be a complete ass,’ he said, shoving it into the boy’s hand.

Dan turned and listened while the boy rang his mother, busying himself preparing coffee, divvying up the half chicken between two rolls so at least when he returned the kid, he might not be quite so badly hung over. He handed him the coffee when the call was finished. ‘Well?’

‘Yeah, you were right, she was worried.’ He sipped the coffee then, pulling himself up a little higher against the chair at his back. ‘I must have blacked out.’ He rubbed his head then. ‘I didn’t realise. I’ve been here since… yesterday.’

‘You fell, I’d say.’ Dan pointed to the chair and the stain that had dried into the rug. ‘You’ve got a matching patch on the side of your head.’

‘So, this headache might not be all about the…’ he picked up the almost empty bottle from the floor ‘…vodka?’

‘Alcohol won’t help – I can tell you that much.’ Dan dropped into the chair opposite the kid and handed him one of the rolls. They both began to wolf down their food.

‘So, are you here on holidays or are you going to live here, now?’ Niall asked when he’d finished and wiped away the crumbs from his sweatshirt.