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The next morning, everyone has gathered on the breakwater for the New Year’s Day plunge. If I’m going to be one of them, I have to have the same stamina. It’s like an initiation rite or being baptised. Besides, after my close call with death, nothing scares me anymore.
And that’s when I see Max, panting and weaving through the crowd towards me. He stops at my feet and I kneel so that my face is parallel to his.
‘Hi, you gorgeous boy, you,’ I whisper to him as I ruffle his fur. ‘I miss you. I wish I could have spent more time with you.’
And then for no reason, tears start streaming down my cheeks. I bury my face in his fur and he turns to lick my tears.
And then I suddenly seehim, off in the distance by the water. Jago Moon, amid his fellow villagers, participating in a community activity. And in a swimsuit, looking like Apollo himself, rubbing his hands together from the cold. Like when he was rubbing my calves to keep my circulation going.
He’d taken care of me. Not taken his eyes off me for a single moment lest I went into hypothermia. But I can’t think about that night, the most dangerous and beautiful and exciting of my life. I can’t think about it. I will never be as happy as I was then. In the space of two months, I’ve found – and lost – the love of my life.
As I watch him from a distance, he turns, as if sensing my presence, and in a moment, he’s standing before me.
‘Emmie…’ he croaks, his eyes huge.
I swallow. ‘Jago…’
‘How have you been?’
I shake my head, unable to answer.
‘Can we talk?’ he asks.
‘Now? What about your plunge?’
‘That can wait. I just need to say something. And then, if you never want to see me again, I’ll respect that.’
‘OK.’
He takes a deep breath and exhales, the cold air forming a cloud around his beautiful head. I can’t help looking at him. Or remembering our one night together – the love we could have had.
‘You once asked me what I’d do if my girlfriend wanted space. I answered that I’d respect that, but that first I’d make sure she knew how much I loved her.’
‘I remember…’
‘Well, Idolove you, Emmie. But there are things that I can’t forgive myself for, so I don’t expect you to. You need to know, Emmie. I was there when your grandfather had a heart attack. I performed CPR on him and called an ambulance. But it wasn’t enough. He was already dead when the ambulance arrived. And when I inherited some of his assets, many doubted my efforts. But we were close friends, like father and son. I loved that old man more than I loved my own dad.’
‘I know,’ I say softly. ‘And Miranda?’
He exhales loudly, as if it hurt.
‘Miranda… I should have told you about her. I’m sorry. But I never expected to fall in love with you of all people, Emmie, sodifferentfrom your cousin.’
‘You mean not elegant and refined?’
He looks me in the eye. ‘No. So warm and loving. Altruistic. You care about everyone. Miranda never cared about anyone but herself. She was impatient. Unreasonable. Jealous of my female classmates in college. I used to be a lawyer. But as it turned out, I hated my job. The dishonesty of it, the bent truth and the mind games. So I decided to quit. Miranda got angry and told me that she didn’t want me to be a penniless painter. She wanted me to stay in the firm I worked with in Truro. But I’d already been commissioned for several paintings by the Wickfords – a very rich family who live above St Ives – and I had oodles of requests and orders from their friends.
‘Miranda stormed out of the house. I could have followed her, but I was too hurt and angry. She took Nano’s river barge out to sea. It sank and she drowned. On Christmas Eve. And still today, whenever I look out to sea, the irrational part of my brain is willing to see them, as they were that day, where I jump in and actually manage to save them.’
I listen to the story I thought I knew and again, my heart aches for him. She had died on Christmas Eve? No wonder he hates Christmas so much. Every year he is reminded of his loss.
He looks up, his eyes rimmed from unshed tears.
‘If I’d stayed in that job, she might not have taken the barge out. And she’d still be alive. You can’t believe how the guilt weighed on me. For years I battled depression and anxiety, fighting addiction after addiction – alcohol and sex. But both only left me feeling emptier. On the outside it looked like I didn’t care. But on the inside I was already dead. She died and it was all my fault.’
‘Oh, Jago, don’t say that!’
He dashes his knuckles across his eyes and takes my hands in his.
