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Gloria wouldn’t describe herself as a spiritual person, but the many years attending her parish church had instilled a deep faith, and if there was ever a need for prayer, it was now. Her lips moved silently in a one-sided conversation. She prayed the turmoil within her would cease, that today would be a fresh start, but most of all she prayed for forgiveness. No voice in the sky answered her, there was no lightning bolt, no message placed on her heart, but when she opened her eyes, she felt much calmer than when she woke, and today, that was enough.
Gloria pulled out a cereal bar from her bag and took birdlike bites. Her stomach groaned for the cooked breakfast it truly desired, but she couldn’t risk a big breakfast before heading into the water. She was doing this alone, and on a late October day, there would be few people around to save her if anything went wrong.
With her stomach briefly sated, Gloria reached into her suitcase and took out an unflattering combination of jogging bottoms, T-shirt and hoodie. Today was about warmth, not style.Slut. For a moment she felt her mother with her, giving her opinion freely about Gloria’s appearance. She ignored her mother’s voice, pulled her hair back into a scrunchy, took a dry bag from her suitcase, and filled it with all she would need. Then, with the carrier bag firmly in her arms, Gloria crept downstairs and out of the house.
In five minutes she was leaving the town, guiding her car through open countryside. The wide road gave way to fields on either side and her breath caught as she glimpsed a snaking river in the distance. She turned off the wide road onto a narrower, winding lane, tall hedgerows on either side. Gloria fired off a quick prayer that she wouldn’t meet anyone coming the other way. She had never been a confident driver, and lacked the spacial awareness to take the road at anything above a crawl. Her mother had known her fear behind the wheel, of course. Gloria suspected that was why she had chosen this particular spot.
Gloria reached the outskirts of Fowey and breathed a sigh of relief at her proximity to the destination. She bypassed the town, driving along a newly tarmacked road until she finally saw the sign to the car park. There were no other cars in the car park, but Gloria’s face still burned at the five minutes it took her to manoeuvre the car into a space.
She took the dry bag and carrier bag from the boot, leaving her handbag hidden under a blanket and tucking her keys beneath the front wheel arch. The air around her was cold and damp. No wonder there were no other takers for the car park. Gloria took her time walking down the wooded path, remembering the small child who’d skipped down it decades before. That same little girl had tripped in her excitement, grazing her knee so badly blood had streamed down her leg, collecting at the bottom in her white sock. She remembered her mother, usually so fierce about appearance, taking off her scarf and dabbing it on the wound. The scarf had been ruined, but it was never mentioned. Instead, when they’d reached the bottom of the hill, her mother had stopped at an ice cream stand and bought Gloria a Ninety-Nine.
Gloria stopped on the path, lost in her memories. Perhaps her mother hadn’t chosen this place to torment her. Perhaps the memory of that one precious day had been equally precious to her. The thought that her mother’s final act might have been a kind one was too much, and a choke escaped Gloria’s mouth. She took a deep breath. Pull yourself together.
The beach was smaller than Gloria remembered, but just as beautiful.Readymoney. Her mother had chosen it for its name, telling Gloria a visit there may bring them luck. It didn’t.
The tide was at its highest point, leaving a thin strip of sand to hug the stone wall. On either side, trees the colour of flames guarded the bay, rising steeply away from the water. She’d forgotten about the trees, but they must have been here all those years ago. Back then, all she’d been aware of was the sand. It had been her first time at the seaside, and she could still remember her giddiness at feeling warm sand beneath her toes.
Gloria wasn’t built to glide through water. Even as a child she had been short and plump, more jellyfish than mermaid. Her mother insisted on her learning to swim, patiently holding her under her stomach, reassuring Gloria that she wouldn’t let go. She had let go though, and Gloria had sunk like a stone. It had been another forty years before she attempted swimming lessons again.
Gloria pulled a changing towel from the dry bag and stripped beneath it. The beach was deserted and she could’ve stripped without it. But the house perched on the cliff had its lights on, and she wasn’t prepared to give its inhabitants a laugh. Once naked, Gloria unfolded the wetsuit from her bag. Her mother would have shrieked with disdain at the sight of a wetsuit, but this was October in Cornwall, and Gloria had no intention of leaving with hypothermia.
Gloria sent up a prayer of thanks that there was no one to see the wetsuit fiasco. The size sixteen she’d ordered appeared too optimistic. She could barely get the thick folds up one leg. Having come too far to give up, Gloria squirmed on the sand, a fish out of water, struggling with metres of neoprene. With her arms firmly in, Gloria switched from fish to monkey as she hopped about the sand, trying to get the wetsuit done up. She should have brought a friend with her to do the zip. Gloria mentally ran through her friends list. No, there was no one she trusted enough to share this moment with.
By the time the wetsuit was on and zipped, Gloria was sweating profusely. She rolled up the legs and arms which were flapping around and making her look like a clown. The water was calm, and Gloria decided to chance her bobble hat, pulling it tightly on her head so she wouldn’t lose it.
Gloria walked to the water’s edge, dipping her toes in and recoiling at the water temperature. A pontoon lay in the middle of the bay, a new addition since the last time she was there. It was as if it had been laid there just for her. The perfect place to do what she had come for. She stuffed the carrier bag safely in her orange dry bag and, once it was secured, stepped into the water.
Freezing salt water shot up the legs of Gloria’s wetsuit, taking her breath away. She pressed on, knowing if she paused, her rational mind would send her scurrying for the shore. Deeper and deeper she walked until she stood on tiptoes. Gloria spread her arms wide and lifted her feet from the bottom. In an instant, Gloria realised her mistake, her limbs flailing in panic, held vice-like by her black second skin. She should’ve practiced swimming in the wetsuit, then maybe she could have mastered the technique.
Gloria closed her eyes, treading water, trying to bring calm to her racing heart. She tried a few tentative scoops of doggy paddle, and found she could make progress this way, however slow that progress may be. As Gloria grew more confident, panic was replaced by calm. She may not look elegant to the outside world, but the way the water supported her body felt wonderful. She felt weightless, freed from the insecurities and frustrations of her aging body.
After half an hour of paddling, Gloria reached the pontoon. She could picture the joy on children’s faces as they leaped from it in the warm summer months, but she was not there to play. Gloria hauled herself up on to the thick plastic and retrieved her dry bag. It was heavy, and she hoped the swim back would be easier without pulling the weight behind her.
Sat cross legged, Gloria placed the carrier bag in front of her. She pulled down its sides to reveal a thick cardboard box. Shaking her hands to rid them of water, Gloria laid them on the box, stroking its smooth surface. The wind had picked up a little, and she opened the lid with care, not wanting the contents whipped away until she was ready. Inside the box lay grey powder, all that was left of a life.
“Well, Mum, here we are. I’ve done what you asked, now I suppose this is goodbye.”
There had been many times over the past few years that Gloria had longed for that moment, longed for the relief it would bring. But now the moment had arrived, she found she didn’t want it. Instead of the release she’d hoped to feel her body was being dragged down by a heavy sadness. All those wasted opportunities, all the things left unsaid.
As Gloria sat contemplating the box, the light around her changed and the sun broke through the clouds.Thank you,she whispered, her head tilted to the sky. The sun turned the grey ash silver, and Gloria knew it was time. She raised herself to standing, holding out her arms to steady herself against the swaying pontoon. Once steady, Gloria reached down for the box. She filled her palm with ash, held it high above her, then opened it, allowing the wind to carry it away. Her hand dug in for another and another before finally, Gloria grabbed the whole box and, with a cry, tipped it out into the air. The wind caught it, swirling dancing flecks of ash momentarily suspended, before dropping to the water and laying on it like a pool of ink. She watched as what was once her mother disappeared beneath the surface.I love you,she choked, the realisation startling her. How long had it been since she said those words? Twenty…thirty years?
Gloria dropped to her knees, her gaze fixed on the water. Was her mother looking down on her? Was she finally proud? She felt now would be the right time to cry, but her eyes remained stubbornly dry.Oh well, she thought,Mum would approve of that. She had never been one to enjoy public displays of emotion.
A gentle fluttering filled her chest, and Gloria smiled. Today was a day of endings, but endings brought beginnings. She had no idea what the future would bring, but she was ready to embrace it. Gloria blew a kiss to her mother’s resting place, crawled to the edge of the pontoon and plunged herself back into the water.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KATE WAITED TILLeleven before creeping up the stairs to check on her guest. The poor woman resembled a drowned rat when she arrived, and Kate hoped she hadn’t become ill because of it. Kate knocked tentatively on the door, but there was no answer.
“Hello?” she said. No reply. “Hello?” she tried again.
Kate opened the door a crack and peered around it. A sigh of relief escaped her as she saw the well-made bed and suitcase tucked in the corner of the room. At least there wasn’t a dead body waiting for her. The guest must have been up and out very early, as Kate had woken at seven and hadn’t heard anyone moving about upstairs. The woman had booked for two nights, but given no clue as to her plans while she was in town. Kate found solo female travellers intriguing. There must be a reason why she was alone. At the same time, she admired their courage. She’d spent several evenings alone in restaurants when Alex had been held up at work, and it hadn’t been much fun.
Kate was making herself crumpets dripping with honey when the front door clicked open and she heard the guest return. It was a tricky balance to strike between friendliness and allowing guests their space, but as their interaction the previous day had been minimal, Kate decided to wander through and say hello.
Gloria was carrying a bright orange bag that looked the type used by wild swimmers. Her hair was damp, pulled back by a scrunchy Kate felt should have been left in the eighties.
“Hi, how are you? Did you sleep well last night?”
