The Boatman's Wife(53)

Beyond the boatyard, out at sea, Niamh could hear fishing boats chugging out of the small harbour – but apart from the fishermen, everyone else was still tucked up in bed. It was so early, it felt like the whole world could be hers. Jesse leant in and kissed her softly on the lips, and she found herself kissing him back. Pixie pushed up between them, forcing them to separate.

‘She’s getting jealous,’ Niamh joked.

‘I think she’s a little protective of you,’ Jesse said, patting the dog.

‘Say, the forecast for tomorrow is good; would you like to go out sailing in the afternoon?’ Jesse asked. ‘I’ve finished work on the Grainne. Joseph said I can take her out.’

‘I hope not to test if she’s seaworthy!’ Niamh teased.

‘No, she’s totally safe,’ Jesse said, proudly. ‘It’s my work, so she’s going to be!’

‘Not sure, I might have to be up early for the round, and then I’m working late in Murphy’s,’ Niamh said. ‘I usually have a nap in the afternoon.’

‘Well, you can have a lie-down on board…’ Jesse’s eyes glinted with mischief.

‘I’m sure I can,’ Niamh countered. ‘But I doubt I’ll get any sleep!’



Jesse had been right. The weather was perfect for sailing. Dry and warm with clear blue skies, the sea capped with light waves so he could let the sail out. Niamh had never been on a yacht before, and although it was small, it felt very grand to her. She’d tried to dress the part, in a pair of denim shorts and a stripy T-shirt, with an old panama hat belonging to her grandpa. She’d also brought a picnic: cheese sandwiches made with fresh batch bread, Tayto crisps, bottles of stout, and strawberries. As they set off, Niamh experienced a little flutter of nerves in her tummy. She had always been more a land-dweller than a sea-lover. Her safe place was the woods and bogs of their hinterland: hidden, mysterious and full of fairy lore. The sea was so open and exposed. But watching Jesse move about the boat, confident and lithe as a cat, she felt safe in his hands. She sat in the bow and surrendered to his expertise, feeling the spray of sea on her face, enchanted by the boat slicing through the blue ocean.

Jesse dropped anchor out in the middle of nowhere. When Niamh looked around, there were no other boats, and the coastline looked tiny and far away. Jesse spread a blanket on the deck as Niamh laid out their food and drink.

‘What made you decide to work with wooden boats?’ Niamh asked Jesse. She bit into her sandwich. ‘I mean, aren’t they dying out?’

‘I’ve always loved sailing,’ Jesse told her. ‘When my dad and I were out on the ocean, I was fascinated by how it’s possible to make this thing out of wood which will float and carry us.’ He pressed his hand down onto the wooden deck of the Grainne. ‘I love the shape of boats, and the beauty of the clinker design – simple, used for generations and yet still as effective.’

Niamh put her sandwich down and copied Jesse, pressing her hand onto the deck beside her and spreading her fingers.

‘Doesn’t she feel alive?’ Jesse said to her, his eyes shining.

‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ Niamh said, smiling back at him.

Jesse put his hand over hers and laced their fingers.

‘What about now?’ he said, looking into her eyes.

‘Oh yeah, I can feel it now,’ she said, hypnotised by him. He bent down and kissed her lips. The sun was behind him and for a second, she was dazzled by light – but in the next moment, the sun passed behind a cloud and she opened her eyes again. He was so close, she could see the texture of his skin, the tiny scar on the top of his lip, and the warmth in his brown eyes, their lashes long and thick.

‘Are you tired?’ Jesse asked her. ‘Do you want to lie down?’

She nodded. He got another blanket, and pulled it over the two of them as he lay down next to her on the deck. She looked up at the blue sky, watching the seagulls circling, hopeful for food. This time she initiated, stroking his face, then his arms, and all the way down his body. She rolled on top of him, unbuttoning her shorts, and bringing the blanket up around her so they were wrapped up within it. They made love, slowly, meditatively, all the while looking directly into each other’s eyes. Niamh knew she was losing herself in Jesse again. Dropping away all her guard. A voice in her head told her not to. But she just couldn’t help herself. When she was with Jesse, she felt whole. As if he was bringing her back to who she really was. She squeezed her eyes shut. How could that be possible? There was no way back to before: deep down, she knew that. And yet the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them:

‘I love you.’

She saw him drink in what she’d just said. His cheeks flushed, the black of his pupils limitless, but he didn’t respond.

Niamh shifted off his body and wrapped the blanket around her. She felt crushed. She had never said ‘I love you’ to any boy before. She picked up her bottle of stout and took a slug while looking out to sea. As always, once the sun began to fade, the cold set in. The boat’s rocking on the water intensified.

‘Hey, are you okay?’ Jesse asked her, putting his arm around her shoulders. ‘You’re shivering.’

‘It’s just gone a bit cold, is all.’

Jesse reached up and put his palm to her cheek, so she turned her face to him. ‘It’s more than that. What’s up?’