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Cameron
8Months later…
There isa lot to be said for the sea, but those things are never spoken of. In its danger, I have found a sense of unshakeable calm. I bob on the gentle lull of the bottomless expanse. My legs are submerged and the water laps rhythmically at the surfboard I'm occupying. My hand sits close to the surface, the salty fluid licking at my calloused skin. Greg, my instructor, gives me a nod, and I rise up as the swell of the sea carries us forward. Adrenaline rushes through me, the sea roaring through my ears before it drags me under, spinning me amongst a tornado of bubbles. It taunts me with the miniscule pockets of air I can’t have. I’d laugh at its audacity if I weren't a victim to drowning. Forcing my eyes to stay open, I take in its beauty because I’ve never seen anything like it. Breaking the surface, I gasp for air, and Greg laughs. “You nearly had it!”
Chuckling, I pull myself back on my board and shake the water from my hair. He doesn't know I enjoy the moment of sensory peace below the surface. “Next time.” I grin and begin paddling again as we make our way back to shore.
Greg hits the sand before me and waits for me to untether myself so we can carry our boards back to the surf shop. “Chrissy and I are popping to the boatyard after we shut the shop, if you fancy it. A few of the guys are coming,” Greg says, wiping his face dry with his hand. He offers at least twice a month for me to join him for a drink, but I always decline.
“Maybe another time. I'm FaceTiming my niece,” I tell him truthfully. I live for those phone calls, not only because I get to see Grace’s face, but because she is my informant. She fills me in on Beau and Holly. I barely have to pry for information, as she freely gives it divulging everything to me. When we reach the shop, Chrissy, Greg’s wife, is waiting for us.
“Hi, Cam, you looked good out there.” They are an older couple, born and bred here. Cornwall is the only place they have ever been and their astute personalities can tell there is something wrong. My sudden appearance didn't go unnoticed, that's for sure. After the first two months, I kindly asked them to let me find my own way. I need to heal, but on my terms and not on the watch of others.
“Nearly beat the wave this time,” I say and put my board aside for her and Greg to sort out. Truth be told, I'm a hell of a lot better. The therapist has quite frankly been a blessing in disguise, the disguise being a grumpy, obnoxious bastard. He has no room for pleasantries and goes for the jugular each session. His methods are nothing short of antiquated, maybe it’s that or his antagonistic manner, but he’s made me face some pretty appalling demons and lay them to rest. “Have a nice evening. I’ve got a date with a bossy six-year-old.” I laugh and get out of there before Chrissy can try to coax me into going for a drink.
Cleaning up, I grab my duffel and walk to my car as Sophie from the local dive school walks up to me. “Hey,” she says skittishly.
I give her a polite smile. “Hey, Soph, is everything okay?” Slinging the bag in the back, I close the door on a thud and pull my door open, waiting for her to respond.
Small hands press together, and she sucks in a deep breath, preparing herself. “Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?” Her pretty eyes are wide. “Like a date?” she adds nervously.
Ah, fuck.
“I'm in a relationship, Sophie,” I murmur, feeling bad for her. Her cheeks are raw with embarrassment.
“Oh.”
“Back home,” I explain. “A daughter too.” My throat closes around the lie I want with every fibre of my being to be the truth.
Her frown deepens, and she gives me a disapproving scrunch of her nose. Jesus, how quick is she to judge? “Hey, you asked me out,” I cough, sending heat into her cheeks. “I'm here on a temporary contract.”
“Right, sorry. Goodnight.” She hurries off back to her car, leaving me to stare after her for a moment. I get in my car and drive home.
The cottage has doubledas my workshop. The garage is a cyclone of sawdust and unfinished articles. I pass by it and close the door as I go. The rest of the place is homely and decorated as the perfect holiday home, fit for a young family. My family. It took me to leave Richmond to realise the old rectory was never for me, but for Holly. Just as this place is. I’ve created the perfect life for her without her ever knowing. A life neither of us has had a chance to enjoy. But we will, if she’ll have me. I’m eager to return home, to see her again, but I have a few jobs to finish up here first.
I stalk to the fridge and the picture stuck to it, and as always, I grin at the snapshot of Beau and Grace standing proudly next to the playhouse. A plaque now resides above the door reading ‘Cam Castle.’ My heart swells, and I kiss my fingers and pat the picture. “You girls kill me,” I mutter, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer.
I'm expecting Grace’s call shortly, so I head for a shower and prepare my dinner so we can eat together like I demand we do. I wait impatiently, staring at my cooling meal and my blank phone on the breakfast bar. Half an hour passes, and I try to call Dan, feeling an uneasy weight settle in my stomach. They are never late with their call. It’s our Thursday tradition. An hour passes so I ring and leave a voicemail before trying the guys, but no one answers, and my stomach shrivels with a sense of dread I can’t explain. Something is wrong. I can feel it to the very core of my being. Rushing upstairs, I grab my car keys, when my phone vibrates on the counter. I take the stairs two at a time and snatch my phone up.
“Dan, what the fuck’s going on!” I pant.
“Cam...” He chokes. “I tried. I fucking did, I promise.”
“Tried what!” I shout. He sobs and I drop weakly into a chair.
“There was a fire,” he cries, and I hear Emily shush him through what sounds like a fit of her own tears.
“Where? Who?” But I know. I just fucking know it’s her. My Holly. I shake my head and stand shakily, pacing. “Don't you fucking say it. DON'T!” I choke out.
“I… It all happened so fast,” Dan whispers. “There was so much smoke. I couldn't see and…”
“Dan, please,” I beg, shoving my palms into my eyes to stop the burn of tears streaming down my face.
“I pulled Beau out, but the fire just grew. I've never seen anything like it, I swear. I tried.” His confession shudders down the line, and my legs give way. Sinking down, I stare at the flooras his voice becomes muffled through the rush of blood in my ears. “The fire service pulled her out, but she was so lifeless.”
“Stop,” I choke, sobbing loudly.
“They started working on her the second they got her out… I don't know how much damage her lungs sustained, or if she is… We’re on the way to the county general now.”
