Chapter Three

“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach �" waiting for a gift from the sea.”

�" Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea

I saw him before he saw me, standing just at the edge of the tide, the sort of man who looked as if he belonged in every landscape without ever quite being part of it. His wrinkled linen shirt swirled gently in the sea breeze, a pair of sandals clasped in his hand. The waves crept perilously close to his feet but retreated hastily as if caught in the act. Even from my distance I could tell he was handsome with thick waves of dark brown hair and skin warmed by many weeks spent in the sun. He was staring out across the calm sea, his eyes squinting against the bright sunlight, lost in contemplation. Then he glanced over, straight at me for the merest second before looking away. 

Sofia was waving cheerfully at me from the beach, brandishing her sandwich. I grinned and waved back. I bobbed up and down, rocked by every wave, luxuriating in the feel of the water on my skin. I had always loved the sea. I could sit and stare at it for hours and not grow bored. And in warmer climates, I loved to swim in the ocean, drowning in the salty sea air mixed with the scent of sun lotion. I believed I was drawn to the sea firstly as a child and then as an adult because there was something so free about. It was not contained, it was wild and unruly, but also welcoming and soothing. Beyond its unending horizon were other places, other worlds within reaching distance if one were just to reach out. 

I began to swim back to shore, eager to taste the treats Sofia’s mum had kindly prepared for us. The man had barely moved, his sandals swinging from his fingers. My feet sank into sand, the water shallowing. Water streamed down my body as I stood. I shivered, the heat of the sun indulgent on my wet skin. The waves slopped and swirled around my ankles, reluctant to let me leave. My feet dragged through the silky sand and clingy seaweed. My heel plunged deep and I twisted, trying to free it. I stumbled, splashing down into the dregs of foam and flotsam. 

“Tutto bene? Ecco la mano.”

I glanced up. The man was standing above me, his hand outstretched. He smiled friendly at me and I noticed his eyes were blue grey, like the sea. Ignoring my heightening embarrassment and praying I wasn’t blushing too deeply, I took his hand.

“Grazie.”
He pulled me up, his rough palm sliding against mine. He did not let go until we were on dry sand. I missed the comfort immediately.

“English?” he asked.

“Is it that obvious?” I winced. “Clumsy and inept in the ocean despite living on an island?”
He laughed, his eyes wrinkling. 

“Of course not,” he denied, smoothly. “It was your accent that gave you away.”

I brushed damp sand from my arms. I detected a slight accent in his voice, but was convinced it was not Italian.

“Well, OK then, maybe I believe you.”

“Are you on holiday?”

“Yes, well visiting a friend.”
“It’s very beautiful here, don’t you think?” he asked, his gaze sweeping across the pale gold beach, over to the barren, jagged cliffs and then out to the undulating azure of the water.
“Oh yes,” I agreed, whole heartedly. “It’s heaven compared to what I’m used to in England.”

“That I can believe. I studied in London for three years and think I almost forgot what the sun felt like.”

I folded my arms and then unfolded them, clasping my hands awkwardly in front of me. 

“How long are you here for?” he asked, breaking the mounting silence.

“Two weeks.”
“I hope you have an enjoyable stay,” he said, kindly.

“Thank you and thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome. I’m Gabriel, by the way.”

He held out his hand again. I shook it.

“Jenny.”
“Nice to meet you, Jenny.”

“You too.” 

He slowly released my hand, bobbed his head and walked on. 

Sofia was bouncing on her heels, eagerly waiting for me. She pounced on me.

“I saw the whole thing!” she gushed excitedly. “Who is he? Is he Italian? What did he say? Tell me everything.”

After a thorough account of my very brief conversation with Gabriel, Sofia allowed me to tuck into a fried aubergine in tomato sauce sandwich and to discover the delicious delight of arancina, all washed down with lemonade. I casually scanned the beach for Gabriel, my curiosity piqued, but he had disappeared. 

We remained on the beach until the sun painted the sea a brilliant shimmering gold. We had both enjoyed a fruit ice sorbet, bought from the local vendor by the road and drained every bottle of water and lemonade. I was wonderfully relaxed and looking forward to dinner out that evening. In the bathroom, I peeled off my bikini and let it slop to the floor like discarded seaweed. I hurriedly washed the sand and salt from my hair and body and slid into a floral dress with floating cap sleeves and my favourite pair of comfortable sandals. I looked at my reflection in the mirror in my room. My tanned skin had transformed me, I barely recognised the sun kissed woman in front of me with her long wavy tresses. 

We dined outdoors. Night had descended but everywhere was a bustle of noise and activity. Music flooded out of restaurants and bars, floating into the streets and piazzas. I enjoyed my pizza, happy to listen to the chatter around me I could not understand. After eating, we wandered aimlessly through the piazza, the air balmy. Luca and Sofia led the way down to the beach to an ice cream parlour. I needed no encouragement and gleefully ordered a cone with two scoops of bacio gelato. In the stagnant warmth of the evening, the ice cream was refreshing and delicious. I perched on the sea wall and gazed out to where the ink of the night sky swallowed the sea. Sofia and Luca were further away, arms encircling each others’ waist. I watched the waves slowly drift up the shore and then lazily withdraw, the sound and motion hypnotic and soothing. Lost in a trance I did not hear him approach.

“We meet again.”
Half annoyed and half surprised, I spun around, startled, snapped sharply out of my reverie. 

“Oh hello.”

Gabriel was dressed more formally now in blank pants and olive green shirt. In the amber glow of the street lamps, he was devastating. I suddenly felt dowdy in my flowery summer dress. 

“May I join you?”
“Oh, yes, please.”
He sat, a wave of sea salt and cedarwood caressing me. 

“I see you have been sampling the island’s gelato.”
My hand flew consciously to my mouth.

“I don’t have ice cream all over my face, do I?”
He shook his head, his cheeks dimpling.

“No, but there is a sizeable drop on your dress.”
He picked up a napkin I had left on the wall and leaned over. Heat and an intoxicating scent radiating from him as he dabbed at the stain, his face so close I could see every individual hair of his close clipped beard.

“Soak your dress in cold water when you’re home,” he advised, sitting back. “It would be a shame to ruin such a pretty dress.”
“Thank you.”

“I was actually just on my way to a bar for a drink,” he said. “Would you like to join me? It’s just a short walk from here.”
I was about to thank him for his invitation then decline but something stopped me. Behind me, the sea had fallen silent, as if waiting with bated breath for my reply. I was always being cautious, behaving as I thought I should, not how I really wanted to. A streak of rebellion shot through me and I turned to Gabriel and smiled.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

The waves plunged into the sand, celebrating.

Sofia and Luca had no objection to me leaving them, but Luca looked warily up at Gabriel as I introduced them. Sofia’s eyes were bulging from her head and she squeezed my hand.

“I’ll make sure Jenny gets home safely,” Gabriel assured them, first in English then Italian. “I know the island very well.”
Luca was not convinced, I could see, but said nothing. 

Gabriel led the way, telling me about the island, its history and the best beaches to swim from. He glided easily through clusters of tourists and locals, his confidence and ease comforting. The bar he mentioned was a tiny alcove at the side of the coastal road. In front of shelves lined with liqueurs and spirits stretched a bar of oak with four stools, their leather cushions well worn. The bartender greeted Gabriel with a beaming smile and a bubble of rushed Italian. Gabriel nodded, smiled and replied fluently, his voice musical. He pulled out a stool for me, his hand grazing my arm.

“What would you like?”

I clambered inexpertly onto the stool and bit my lip.

“An amaretto sour, please.”

Giancarlo, the bartender, left us to our drinks and continued a conversation with a heavy set man smoking a few feet away from the bar. 

“This is one of my hidden treasures,” explained Gabriel. “It’s not a well known place and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I can understand why, it’s perfect.”
“Now, Jenny, tell me all about yourself.”
I laughed and placed my drink down.

“There’s really not much to tell,” I said. “I come from England, where I work as a HR manager in a company that sells insurance. I have three housemates, no pets unfortunately. I spend my weekends walking in national parks and reading, mainly to avoid being home. And this is the first holiday abroad I’ve had since I was twenty four.”
Saying it out loud punctuated how boring and dismal my life was. 

“I am certain there is much more to you than that,” said Gabriel. 

“Um I’m never happier than when I have my nose buried in a book with a cup of tea nearby,” I risked.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“I like visiting cosy English cafes and eating their homemade cakes.”

He smiled approvingly.

“I can’t see a cat or dog without wanting to greet it and pet it,” I continued.

“What kind of monster doesn’t?” he cried, incredulously. “Tell me more.”

I thought.

“When I was a child I was obsessed with dolphins, but even now I’ve never actually seen a real one.”
His mouth gaped open.

“Outrageous, we’ll have to change that while you’re here.”

I drained my glass, savouring the tart flavour and subtle warmth. Gabriel gestured to Giancarlo for another.
“Know enough about me yet?”

He studied me. 

“For now, yes,” he said. “You don’t want to learn too much about someone too soon. There’s the danger of becoming terribly bored, horrified or repulsed, or there’ll soon be no more mysteries to discover.”
“Well put,” I commended.

I held up my glass.

“Here’s to mystery.”
Gabriel smiled and clinked his glass against mine.

“Salute!”

Many drinks later, I was sailing serenely on a cloud of alcohol-infused nonchalance. Gabriel grasped my arm to stop me from careening into the path of any oncoming traffic. I was humming merrily to myself, a carefree smile plastered on my face. 

Gabriel took my hand and pulled me gently off the road and down onto the beach. Sand tipped into my sandal but I didn’t mind. 

“Here, sit down here.”
He held my hand while I flopped ungracefully down. I steadied myself and dusted the sand from my hands. The unbroken rumble of the waves seemed to crawl back into black oblivion.

“You know, I’ve always thought of the sea as my friend,” I began, more musing aloud than talking to Gabriel. “Even though I didn’t see it very often, maybe once a year as a child, nowadays even less, but it was always there, a constant presence, with all its different moods and personalities, beckoning me to go with it. I love being near it, able to see it, hear it. It’s weirdly soothing, like a kind grandmother with warm hugs.”

Gabriel settled beside me, his shoulder resting against mine. I looked at him.

“Bet that sounds stupid to you.”
“Not in the least, the sea has always fascinated me too. For centuries, it was the great unknown, what lay beneath it, beyond it, its mysteries fathomless, in the same way space is to us today.”
He tipped his head back to glance up at the star filled sky. 

“She is an unruly mistress,” he continued. “And very protective of her secrets. I’ve spent a decade researching her and she still overwhelms me.”

I was intrigued.
“Are you a marine bibliogist? I mean biologist?”

The corner of his mouth kicked up in amusement.

“Well, I have no diploma documenting the fact, but I know as much as any,” Gabriel explained. “I work in marine conservation, studying the effect of pollution, overfishing and traffic on marine life and trying to prevent as much damage as possible.”
I stared at him as if he was bathed in heavenly golden light.

“That is amazing,” I breathed, dreamily. 

His smile transformed his face. 

“It is amazing, but also sad and frustrating,” he finished, soberly. “So much has been destroyed with no chance of regeneration. And so much beauty ignored or taken for granted. Humanity is so bloated on its own importance and its desire to be satisfied, it closes its eyes to the suffering of the natural world.”

Passion had strayed into his voice, animating his face and I gazed at him spellbound.

“There is so much life in the oceans, so rich and incredible and what do we do?” he continued, his hands clenching and unclenching. “We empty our waste and sewage into it, choke it with oil; sail huge tankers across it with thundering engines, strangling helpless creatures in nets and unbreakable lines; hunting animals to then carve them up to harvest what we want; obliterating coral reefs and mining deep into the seabed. It is endless.”
He trailed off. 

“I know it’s an unimaginable tragedy with an insurmountable amount of work to be done,” I said, slurring half of my words. “But you are doing something, instead of burying your head in the sand like an Austrian . . . an ostrich and pretending it’s not your problem. It may be just a drop in the ocean, but the ripples will carry on forever.”
I hiccupped and swayed. Gabriel caught me before I fell sideways into the sand. 

“Woops,” I giggled.

Gabriel kept a supporting arm around my shoulders. 

“Are you all right?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

I nodded eagerly.

“Oh yes, peachy.”
With his free hand, he smoothed the hair off my face. I wanted to lean my cheek into his palm.

“What you said, that was beautifully put,” he said, smiling softly. “Thank you.”

We sat, not speaking, just listening to the sea whisper her secrets to the stars. Gabriel sprang up suddenly.

“It’s late, we should get you home to your friends.”

Gabriel didn’t let go of my hand until I stood outside the door of Sofia’s condominio, our journey home a pleasant blur. I reluctantly let his fingers slide through mine. 

“Thank you for tonight,” I whispered. “I had a lovely time.”
I held out my hand. He clasped it and smiled.

“Buona notte, Jenny.”

I floated up the stairs and tapped lightly on Sofia’s door. It opened seconds later and Sofia dragged me inside. 

“At last,” she sighed. “I was about to call la polizia.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Pah, you’re home now. So what happened? Where did you go?”

It was three in the morning when I finally collapsed into my bed, pleasantly exhausted. I fell asleep quickly and didn’t wake until noon the following day. I lay in bed for a while, wondering if the night had been real or just a dream. I stretched against the pillows and hauled myself up and padded to the bathroom with a small recollection of comparing Gabriel to an Austrian.