Aftermath

“We’re here now, we’ve arrived,” said her friend, Jackie.  There was a soft hiss of an electric window lowering.  A rush of sea air invaded Sophie’s space, and she felt it ruffle her hair.  “I’m just going to find a parking space.”

The image of Talacre Beach came into their view and its warm familiarity made Sophie smile: the breeze and the open vista of sand and the solitary lighthouse that stood solemnly beneath a summer evening's sky.  The sea sounded calm; it was a rare dormancy that hardly gave away any sibilance.  She could just about hear its sound.  She sensed that the sea was out and she could see its blue-grey softness in the distance.   She imagined a ship passing by on its voyage, a vague shape moving like a lone dinosaur in a world that was fast becoming alien to it.  And she smiled as if the analogy of such an image was amusing. 

She felt the car slow to a halt.  She heard the metallic ratchet cut the silence as Jackie applied the handbrake, then the engine die.

Calmness.

Tranquillity.

Sophie embraced the dual sensations as she heard Jackie open her door.  Again, the breeze invaded the inside of the car and she felt the rude rush of its intrusion.  The door closed, and for a moment, it was silent.  A door opened – her door – and she felt a soft, gentle hand hook its way beneath her left arm.

“Thank you,” said Sophie. 

“The car is low, so it may be a tad uncomfortable getting out, but I am hold of you,” said Jackie comfortingly.  “That’s it, take it nice and easy.”

There was warmness to her friend’s voice, an encouraging patience that made so much difference to her.  It was a compassionate tone, and she was so grateful that Jackie was with her.

Sophie carefully swung her left leg out of the foot-well and waited for the solid feeling of the ground to confront her foot.  When it did, she allowed her right leg to follow suit.   Jackie’s comforting hands lifted her out of the car, and as Sophie stood up, they virtually embraced.

“Just wait here a moment,” said Jackie as she closed the car door.  “Then we can go for a walk along the beach.”

The soft click of the central locking punctuated the windy air.

“This way,” said Jackie, and Sophie felt herself being eased and guided. 

“It’s so beautiful,” said Sophie as she walked towards the entrance of the beach.  “I can see it all so clearly, so vividly as if nothing had ever happened.”

Sophie slowly removed her dark glasses and faced the beach.  Her eyes were white and sightless, blinded.  

Jackie smiled and tears stung her eyes as she watched Sophie step onto the sand, her long hair tousled by the sea-breeze.  The accident still haunted Jackie and she cursed herself for allowing an under-aged Sophie to drive her home on the night she had decided to get drunk.