BooksBarbecue
Back Drift Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. Acknowledgements ♦ Diolchiadau
  50. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

Nefyn followed him to the door. It was dark outside, the moon invisible under rain clouds. Cold. Nefyn held the door open. Waited as he passed her.

‘Thank you,’ she said, her words loud in the silence. Joseph nodded. He lingered a moment. Looked out to sea. He opened his mouth to say something, but his words failed him. He nodded again, turned and walked away, and Nefyn watched him go.

30

Cantre’r Gwaelod ♦ Drowned City ♦ Medina Maghmoura

‘HAMZA?’ NEFYN KISSED THE side of his face. ‘Wake up.’ It was dark. Pitch-black.

‘Come, come with me.’ Her face was inches above his, pale. A soft smile. He got up. Dressed hurriedly, walked to the living room, but she was already gone, the door left open for him.

‘Nefyn?’ He pulled on his shoes and followed.

It was still, the sound of the sea seemingly far away. As her figure disappeared from the cliff-top down towards the cove, he followed, dreamlike, listening to her footsteps and her laughter. He stumbled half asleep down the path, bracing against the drop with his thighs, steadying himself with his outstretched arms. The path was becoming second nature, the obstacle it had once been felt incomprehensible to him now.

‘Nefyn,’ he whispered, having reached the bottom. She was walking out to sea. His feet clacked on the stones as he followed her. It was a clear night, the moon waxing ready for its spring fullness, lacing every stone with silver. The sea whispered in the distance, the tide further out than he had ever seen it. His feet suddenly silent on sand. He had hit the tidemark.

Nefyn continued to walk out until dark shapes started forming under the moon. The sand riven with the ghost of the tide, ridged and uneven beneath his feet. His foot caught on a serpentine shape. Sinewy and dark. He gasped. Looked for Nefyn, but she was nowhere to be seen. He focused his eyes through the gloom to see dark shapes rising all around him. Twisted, their limbs reaching, cleaving, uncovered by the low tide.

‘Nefyn?’ His voice disappeared with the breeze.

He looked around, more and more shapes coming into view. Nefyn had vanished. The sound of the sea louder now, insistent, as if about to turn. He approached one of the figures, put out his hand. Touched its smooth surface. And as the moon lit up the seabed for a moment, he saw the floor of the ocean littered with them. Then, a soft voice behind him.

‘It’s a forest,’ she said. Nefyn in the moonlight. Her eyes alive. ‘A few times a year, the tide recedes far enough.’

Hamza was short of breath.

‘These are trees?’

Nefyn smiled.