Chapter Five

“The ocean is more ancient than the mountains and frightened with the memories of the dreams of time.“ 

-H.P. Lovecraft

That afternoon, as the road wound down through olive groves and scattered stone walls, we talked easily, about everything except Francesco’s disappearance. Sofia had told me the local radio station was reporting about it and search parties were being organised. Gabriel had only shook his head when I’d asked, securing my seat belt. No news. So I sat back and let him lead the conversation, happy to answer any of his questions. 

We swung off the main road and rattled over a rugged track towards the sea. The car tires bumped vigorously over the rocks and dips and I bounced up and down in my seat, Gabriel swaying similarly. We smiled amusedly at one another.

“Not much further now,” Gabriel told me.

I could see a strip of blue dotted with white crests appear on the horizon, the smell of salt growing stronger. 

I stepped out of the car to be greeted by a gentle breeze, catching my hair. Gabriel pulled a large striped canvas from the back seat and swung it over his shoulder.

“This way.”
We neared the cliff edge and I looked down. Below the dry grass of the clifftop, a brush of alabaster sand swept out below, nuzzled gently by the unhurried waves. A slice of paradise glistening in the afternoon sun.

“This is the bay,” I guessed. “Where they want to build the hotel?”
“It is.”
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed. “How is it not teeming with people?”
“Well, a rumour was circulated years ago that the water here was infested with jellyfish,” said Gabriel. “The pelagia noctiluca, which has a nasty sting. That seems to have kept most people away.”

My eyes narrowed with affected suspicion.
“Did you start the rumour?”
He laughed, his cheeks dimpling.

“It was well established before I arrived here,” he said.

“Well, I can see why you don’t want a hotel here, it would be a crime to spoil this.”
“That’s why I keep its existence as secret as possible.”

“Well, thank you for bringing me here,” I said, sincerely. 

He looked at me earnestly but I turned away uncomfortably. 

“You should have told me to bring my swimsuit,” I sighed. “The water looks heavenly.”

The water, crystal clear and blue, gleamed like an aquamarine in a setting of white gold. 

“Not to worry, I snagged one of Tamara’s from the institute,” he admitted. 

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Thanks.” 

Gabriel took my hand and guided me through tufts of brittle grass, down the rocky trail to the beach. I longed to drink in the stunning view but the trail was not smooth and my feet, slick with sweat, slid precariously in my sandals. Gabriel’s hand tightened on mine on the few instances when I did skid. At last titian rocks crumbled smoothly into white sand that crunched pleasantly beneath my sandals. I stood admiring the picture before me, my clothes clinging to my skin. The heat was oppressive and the azure water shimmered enticingly at me. Gabriel handed me a blue one piece swimsuit.

“Here, you can change behind those rocks,” he pointed. “I’ll set up camp.”

I disappeared behind the rocks and wriggled out of my damp dress and underwear. The sea air grazing my sticky skin was a delightful caress and I lingered a moment before stepping into the swimsuit. I had been sceptical, Tamara looked slimmer than I, but the swimsuit fit perfectly.

I didn’t wait for Gabriel. I skipped into the surf, splashing noisily and dived under. I surfaced, shaking droplets from my hair. The water was delicious after the cloying heat. I laughed gleefully, giddy as a child, whirling around. The rhythm of the rolling waves was familiar and soothing. Water lapped lovingly around my shoulders, the sea hugging me closer and my chest lightened. My eyes closed and red sunbursts danced behind my lids. I could have easily been lulled to sleep, bobbing like a buoy in the sea. 

A splash roused me. White foam bubbled where Gabriel had plunged in. His arms shot up and he swam effortlessly towards me. He emerged, hair pasted to his temples. He wiped the water from his eyes.

“That felt good,” he panted, his smile wide. “I love swimming here. It’s quiet enough to hear nature and breathe it in.”
“It’s certainly something,” I agreed.
“I wanted to show you something else too,” he said. 

“Oh?”

“You see, a family of dolphins often stop to play in the bay,” he revealed. “And we’ve become acquainted. They’re very friendly. But I don’t know if they will drop by today.”
My face had lit up at the mention of dolphins. I had never seen them in the wild.

“Really?” 

Gabriel nodded.

“They’re incredible, just as curious about us as we are of them.”

We floated idly, treading water. Gabriel told me about how he’d first met the dolphins, how he had learned to recognise individuals and the names he had given them. He dived and swam off to see if he could catch a glimpse of them anywhere. Soon I began to tire, not used to keeping myself afloat for so long, the water constantly tugging at my legs. Gabriel was a much stronger swimmer, no doubt swimming regularly, while this holiday had been the first time I had swum in years. The sun was beating down relentlessly and there was little shade to be found in the water. I knew I should return to the beach, prone to sunstroke as I was. But I didn’t want to miss my chance at meeting the dolphins. Gabriel cruised back to me.

“No luck,” he breathed. 

“Oh,” I pouted, my chin dipping below the surface.

My tired arms fought to keep my body above the water. Gabriel inclined his head.

“Let’s get back to the beach,” he said. “I’ll swim back out after a rest and see if I can spot them.”

I squeezed the water from my hair while Gabriel pulled foil wrapped bundles from his bag. With a towel draped around my shoulders and my straw hat firmly on my head, I sat down. Gabriel handed me a foil wrap. 

“Hope you like it,” he said. “It was baked fresh this morning.”
I peeled off the foil and the aroma of olive and sea salt teased my nose. A chunk of focaccia riddled with black olives and sundried tomatoes nestled in the wrapping. My mouth watered. The sea water had made me ravenous and my stomach squealed in delight. I looked approvingly across at Gabriel.

“You Sir, are spoiling me today.”
He didn’t reply but bit into his own slab of focaccia. I ate mine slowly, savouring every bite, my eyes resting tranquilly on the sea. 

I licked the last grain of salt from my fingertips and stretched out in the sand to wallow in the sunshine. I felt pleasantly sleepy, fresh from the water and bathed in warmth.

“There’s sun lotion here,” mentioned Gabriel. “If you need it.”
“Oh, thanks,” I sat back up. “Good idea.” 

“I’m going to fetch more water from the car,” he said, shoving his feet into his shoes. 

I applied the sun lotion liberally and laid back down, settling my straw hat over my face. With the gulls screeching overhead, I fell swiftly into a light sleep, ever conscious of the waves breaking on the shore. 

My skin pebbled. A cooler breeze skimmed over me, waking me. I rubbed my eyes and glanced around. Two new water bottles sat beside me and an open paper bag full of dates. I had not heard Gabriel return. I spied him now, at the other end of the bay, by a cluster of rocks, facing seawards, binoculars held to his eyes. I sat up. Clouds were frothing on the horizon, the sea noticeably choppier than before. Gabriel glanced back at me. He jogged over. 

“How was your nap?”
“Delightful,” I sighed. “How long was I asleep?” 

“About an hour.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, guiltily. 

He shrugged.

“You needed it.”

“Any sign of the dolphins?” I asked, hopefully.
“Not a dorsal fin.”

I sighed.

“I’m going in for one last swim,” he said. “Then I think we should head back to the car. Weather’s changing. How about you?”

I eyed the rising waves plunging down. 

“Oh no, I don’t think I could swim against those waves.”

“Yes, they are looking angry.”
He packed his binoculars away then flung off his shirt. I watched him leap into the waves, the muscles on his back rippling. I sighed again, and gathered up my dress. Ensuring I was hidden from Gabriel’s view and from anyone descending into the bay, I eased gingerly out of my swimsuit and back into my dress. My legs were stiff so I walked along the beach, rolling my tired shoulders and fascinated by the sea darkening to a threatening purple, like a fresh bruise. 

A bright glint of light pierced the corner of my right eye. Something between the rocks was reflecting the wavering sunlight. Curious, I investigated, scrambling up a rock and edging over. I halted abruptly, my heart jumping sharply. The reflective glimmer was a watch face, around the wrist of a man. He was laying clumsily, his head resting on a rock. It was an odd place to take a nap. I frowned. I hoped he hadn’t been watching us. I began to turn away when I thought I’d better see if he was well. Sofia had told me people, often tourists, were known to succumb to the heat and could fall, lost for days. 

“Hello,” I called out. 

He didn’t stir.

“Hello? Stai bene?” I ventured, in my best attempt at Italian.

He still did not move. I lurched closer and immediately reared back. Blood matted his hair, coating the rock behind him. I looked up. Where could he have fallen from? There was no trail nearby. I swayed, momentarily unsettled by dizziness. Away from the water, the air was stifling and close, perspiration already beading across my brow. I leaned sideways against a rock and breathed deeply. 

Queasily, I stared, questioning my own eyes. I was certain he was dead, the spilled blood dried black, but I urged myself forward to check. I swished my hand, trying to dispel the flies and leaned in, pressing my fingers to the man’s throat. I felt the stiff, leadeness of his body immediately. There was no pulse. I stood back, suddenly sad. I knew him.