Chapters (50)
Efa had thought of staying in the house, but as she began to see the tourists arrive for the summer with their colourful clothes, their own stories, she realized that there was nothing here for her now. She had already given back all the keys to the houses, saying that she had been caretaker too long. It was now time for her to live. She knew she had to start again, whatever that meant. The thought of Nefyn taking her own freedom sustained her when the grief she felt threatened to overwhelm her.
Joseph was to take her to see a small place for sale at the edge of the village, and she waited for him outside the house as the first sunset of summer softened over the bay. She smiled at him as he climbed into the car, and they drove to the small house which overlooked the sea.
Joseph left Efa to look around, and walked along the coastal path towards the cottage. He hadn’t slept there since Nefyn had left. It didn’t feel like his home any more, but there was something else, too. He had noticed a snaking pattern on the floor, the slight shifting of ground. The squall that Nefyn had summoned seemed to have displaced some rocks in the cove, loosened the soil, tilting the house even further towards the sea. Its angles were strained now, the way it would succumb to the sea inevitable. There was no going back.
As he rounded the coast, it came into view. He stopped for a moment to look, the beauty of its tenuous clinging. He smiled sadly; the buoys, the nets trembling in the breeze. He moved towards the cottage, pushed open the door and took a few steps inside. It was empty. A shell. The stories inside echoing. Joseph felt the now-familiar ache of grief deep inside. It would take time, he knew that.
It was a warm night, the yellowing light illuminating the dust in the air, and his eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the window. To the outside. As he turned to leave, he noticed an envelope on the floor. He moved towards it. Picked it up. A foreign postmark. A slanting hand. It was addressed to Nefyn. He exhaled. Felt its weight in his hands, a burning in his throat and behind his eyes. He carried it out. Made his way down to the cove. The sea was silvery this evening. Whispering. Sounding out its voice, testing its strength. He walked along the beach and stood on the strandline.
Tomorrow morning, he would sail north. Pay his debt. Fulfil his promise. And then? He wasn’t sure. He took in the expanse of the sea, felt its vastness settling on him, and for the first time in his life, he was struck by its wondrous beauty.