The Boatman's Wife(24)

They walked down the sandy path, through the dunes and the long rushes to the perfect crescent beach. It was still early, and despite it being a glorious summer’s day the beach was relatively empty. Just the odd dog-walker in the distance.

‘Do you like it here?’ Jesse asked her.

‘Yes,’ she said, taking a breath and inhaling the scent of the sea. ‘I love it.’

She closed her eyes for a second, listening to the sound of the waves sweeping onto the shore, the gulls calling above. Felt the wind whipping her hair around her face.

When she opened her eyes again, Jesse had walked on down the beach. She watched him as he trailed the water’s edge, tall and dark in his biking leathers, looking out to sea.

She followed him, and he turned and waited for her, smiling, his eyes creased against the sunlight.

‘It always makes me feel good, being by the ocean,’ he said. ‘Reminds me of good times with my dad.’

‘Me, too,’ Niamh said in a quiet voice. Jesse turned and looked at her.

‘My dad’s dead too, but a long time ago now,’ she said.

‘Yeah, your mom told me while you were upstairs,’ Jesse said.

Niamh shook her head. ‘Typical Mam,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Jesse said. ‘Hey, come on, this is supposed to be a date, not a wake!’

He turned and ran towards the dunes, clumps of damp sand churned up by his boots.

‘Come on!’ he called out, trying to climb up the sandy hills and sliding back down every time. She followed him up, and he held out his hand to her, dragged her to the top of the shifting dunes.

They fell back on top of the sea grass, out of breath from climbing to the top. Niamh could feel Jesse looking at her. She must be a bit of a mess, wind-blown from the bike (was her eyeliner smeared, surely?) and her hair had fallen out of its plait. But still, she felt the heat of his gaze and turned.

As she looked at Jesse, Niamh felt a confliction of attraction but also fear. No one had looked into her eyes like this before. Not even Brendan, who knew her the best. It was too much, and she broke away first. Pulled her bag towards her, opening it up and hunting for her papers and tobacco.

‘Want a joint?’ she asked him, feeling a desperate need to calm her nerves.

‘Sure,’ he said, leaning back in the grass and looking out to sea. Niamh peeked at his profile. His stillness, as if captured in an old photograph, reminded her of all the young men in the past who had maybe sat in the same spot, staring at America, and their new beginnings across all the miles of ocean. Jesse had come in the other direction, though. He was looking back at his home.

As they smoked, they lay on their backs in the sea grass, watching the clouds shapeshifting above them. Niamh’s body was softening, surrendering into the soft contours of the dunes as they passed the joint back and forth. Jesse circled her palm with his finger. The slightest of touches, and yet it felt as if it was magnified in her body, rippling outwards to her fingers and toes. It was such a long time since she’d been touched with such tenderness. Niamh sat up, passing the joint back one last time.

‘Let’s walk,’ she said.

Jesse raised himself up on his elbows, and looked at her with mild surprise.

‘Sure,’ he said, standing up and putting out the joint with the heel of his boot. He held out his hand to help her get up. His grip was sure, and she felt the strength in his body as she stood up.

‘You okay?’ he asked, looking at her beneath heavy lids.

‘Yeah,’ she said, dusting sand off her jeans.

They walked the length of the beach and continued along the coast, clambering up rocks and down again until they came to a tiny cove.

‘Hey, want to go for a swim?’ Jesse asked her.

‘I’ve no swimsuit,’ she countered.

‘That’s not stopping me!’ he laughed, pulling off his biking leathers until he was down to his boxers.

‘It’s going to be freezing!’ she protested, but his enthusiasm was infectious. She hadn’t been in the sea for so long, and now she craved it more than anything.

Niamh tore her jeans off, but kept on her shirt, embarrassed by her old faded bra. Jesse charged into the sea, and Niamh followed him, hypnotised by his smooth broad back spraying sea water in his wake.

‘Oh my God, it’s so cold,’ she squealed, as she floundered in the shallows.

‘Go under,’ Jesse said. ‘Do it quick!’

He dived into the surf, and disappeared for a second. She wasn’t a good swimmer at all, but she was also high. The seawater was making her skin feel so alive, tickling with sensation. She pushed her head under the water, and then leapt up, screaming with exhilaration as sea water cascaded around her. Jesse appeared again, swimming towards her. Taking her hand, he began to tug her further out to sea.

‘I’m not a great swimmer,’ she admitted.

‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘I got you.’

He held both her hands, dragging her weightless into the sea. For a moment, she felt a twinge of unease. How much did she know about this boy? She’d grown up suspicious of strangers. Yet all she had to do was look into Jesse’s honey eyes, and she melted. She didn’t care if she was being reckless. It was so long since she’d had any fun.

They swam together. He held her hand, and she was buoyed by the sea. The sun warmed the back of her head, though her limbs were cold beneath the water. But still, she didn’t want to get out when Jesse began to tug them both back to the beach.