The Ladies' Midnight Swimming Club(28)

‘For a while, I suppose, yes,’ Dan said and it surprised him, because it wasn’t just a holiday now that he was here. He did not have a return ticket booked. In a week someone else would be living in his flat, sleeping in the bed he’d so recently slept in while he pottered about here on a cliff side overlooking the ocean.

‘Mental.’ The boy looked around the cottage now, taking it all in again. ‘You’re English?’

‘That’s right. London – I’m just having a bit of a break, looking to… research, and a few months in peace and quiet.’ Dan smiled; he liked that idea.

‘Yep, like I said mental.’ The boy looked at him now. ‘What would anyone want to come here for when you could be in London? What kind of work do you do?’

‘I’m a writer, so the quiet will be good – less distracting.’ Dan wasn’t sure why he told the boy that. His writing job with the BBC was gone now and after what happened there, he knew the chances of finding another were thread-thin.

‘Right.’ Niall looked thoughtful then for a moment. ‘What kind of books?’

‘I write for television.’

‘Christ, even worse. My grandmother will be bloody all over you. She used to be involved in amateur dramatics back in the day – still harping on about it now.’

‘I’m not sure Am Dram is my thing.’

‘Too good for it, are you?’ Niall scowled.

‘No. Not at all. Any kind of theatre is worthwhile. It’s just I’ve only come to the end of a project and I want to start something different. Being here is all about…’ Dan sighed. What in God’s name was he doing making excuses to this kid?

‘You’re here to chill?’

‘Yeah, I suppose, something like that.’ Dan thought, perhaps taking time to catch his breath might be as much as he’d need.

‘Yeah, well, I suppose this place will be good for unwinding. You can sit outside, put your music on as loud as you want and watch the seagulls all day long if you feel like it,’ Niall said and there was an unexpected softness to his voice. ‘You won’t be… It’s very isolated up here.’

‘I suppose it is – maybe the quiet will send me back to London more quickly than I’m planning.’ He wouldn’t add that he had an endless selection of books and music to keep him going for at least a year if he felt like it. ‘I’ll probably hunker down with a decent movie, a good dinner – that’ll be enough to start.’

‘This whole village is a bit… out of the way, if you ask me. It’s full of auld ones and everything about it is backward, but if it’s quiet you’re after you’ll get it in spades. Probably be bored out of your brains by next week though.’

‘You’re new here, right?’ Dan remembered the conversation in the shop earlier.

‘How’d you know that?’

‘They were talking about you in the supermarket when I dropped in to pick up supplies.’ Dan smiled. ‘You could always come back and visit me, for a coffee – not vodka, mind – some days, if you fancied it.’ He had a feeling the kid didn’t have much else to keep him out of trouble.

‘Yeah, all right, maybe.’ There was a hint of enthusiasm in Niall’s answer, but not enough to give away the fact that he might actually turn up.

‘You might even help me find the best beaches about the place for swimming.’

‘I might, but you’ll be the only one getting wet, mate. I’m not likely to put myself through that torture until we hit July at least.’ Niall pulled himself up. It was time to head back to normality and maybe the coffee and the chance to sit and gather his thoughts was enough to galvanise him. Dan didn’t ask why he’d come to the cottage, or why the sergeant seemed to think that he might have thrown himself into the ocean, but he knew enough to realise that the kid needed something more than he already had in life.

*

Even in the hammering rain, the village was handsome. Perhaps the bleakness made it more striking. Dan clocked the mileage at just less than three miles from its centre – not a bad stroll if he fancied it on a bright day. He could imagine the narrow streets, come summer, filled with the scent of the ocean, flower baskets tumbling over with brightly coloured petunias and lobelia, a sea of river daisies waving from window boxes. It was a village that graduated from the simple fishing cottages, with remnants of sea-rusted chains about their doors up to a gothic church whose spires reached towards heaven, lit by strategic soft cannons of sepia golden glow.

‘I’ll probably be grounded for a month.’ Niall’s words cut into his thoughts.

‘I’d say you’ll be lucky if you’re not grounded until you’re twenty-five, at least.’ Dan laughed. ‘But still, your mum, well, she’s just going to be so relieved to have you home. If you play it kind of cool…’

‘How do you mean?’

‘I mean, don’t go off on one. Don’t be stroppy. Put your arms around her and tell her you’re sorry for making her worry, but it wasn’t entirely your fault.’

‘Of course, it wasn’t my bloody fault,’ Niall said.

‘You see, that’s what I mean: try and chill a bit, let her do the talking.’ He nodded towards the raging sea. ‘Try to imagine what’s been going through her head.’