What Lies Beneath the Fog

》16《

The silence that followed Dean's words felt complete and unnatural. It was only disturbed by the gentle flapping of water against our boat and the distant, muted sound of waves crashing over the sharp cliffs under the lighthouse.

Dean looked at Emma, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. This must have been some kind of a signal between the two, a thing they had done many times before. A ritual.

Emma shook her clothes off in a couple of quick movements, making them all fall to the bottom of the boat in a messy pile. For the shortest moment, I saw her dressed only in her water lily bikini, bold and beautiful, standing tall against the bright blue canvas of the sky. Then, without any warning or hesitation, she jumped into the crystal clear water, making next to no sound. She disappeared for a while, then resurfaced farther away from the boat, swimming towards the beach.

Dean was chuckling silently now, looking at me, challenging. It obviously took all of his will not to laugh out loud, trying to stay serious enough to give me a raised-eyebrow, enquiring look, saying, 'What will you do about this, hmm?'

I got it. It was my turn to jump, I couldn't not do it.

I took my clothes and shoes off as fast as I could before I would change my mind. I was cold, standing in the boat only in my swimming shorts, the cool breeze caressing my bare skin. So, I jumped, landing with a great splash in the smooth waves.

The water wasn't cold. It was freezing.

For the first few moments, it felt as if thousands of icicles pierced my flesh. The temperature of the sea was incredibly low, surely just a few degrees away from becoming frozen solid. At least, to me, it felt so. Even the air bubbles, crazily dancing around me when I went under, looked like round-shaped ice cubes. The coldness took my breath away and made my heart race; I had never been in a water as icy as this before. Then my body went numb with the cold, and I had to remember to move to stay afloat.

Struggling towards the surface, I noticed a little pink and yellow flower drifting towards me. It was Emma's water lily, the one that had been keeping her hair tied in a ponytail before.

I saw her the moment my head broke the surface. She wasn't too far, just a few strokes in front of me. Her long hair was loose now, darker, infused with the sea water. It was following the rhythm of the current, dancing in the waves, floating behind her like a mermaid's tail. I grabbed the little flower and followed her.

Soon, I heard another splash behind me and Dean's protesting voice, calling, "Claire, are you crazy? The water's freezing!"

Despite my body becoming blue and numb, I had to laugh. This made Dean the only one remaining dry. I heard the boat's engine purr to life again, as he was taking it to the shore.

As soon as I got over the shock from the frostiness of the water and my breath and heartbeat got even again, I started feeling great. Swimming in this icy, perfectly clear water was amazing. The sea was clean, so pure and transparent that I could see shoals of small fish swimming curiously around and underneath me, in the forest of seaweed growing on the rocks at the bottom.

We were close to the beach now, and the water was becoming shallower with each stroke I took. Emma, only a couple of paces in front of me, was already emerging, walking towards the beach slowly, giving me time to catch up with her.

As soon as I reached her and handed her the water lily, she hugged me. Her body felt even colder than my own, but she wasn't shivering at all.

"Thanks," she whispered, leaning yet closer to me. I could feel her warm breath landing on my shoulder, and it made me shiver. "I didn't think you would jump."

I wished I could stay longer like this, so close, returning her embrace tentatively, oblivious to the cold and the rest of the world... But a few silent splashes coming from behind us announced Claire's arrival.

We turned around and helped her out, pulling her to her feet, out of those infinite, freezing waves. Her tan skin had a bluish hue to it now. The sea had repainted her to its liking. She was trembling with cold.

"Dean, it's up to you to make a fire. We are freezing!" Emma called towards the beach.

But there was no need.
Dean had already tied the boat to an ancient, rust-bitten iron loop attached to the rock wall at the base of the stairs. It had been placed there, most likely, by the Victorian architect of the lighthouse and its stairway. Now, he was carrying a few pieces of the rare driftwood he found on the beach to make fire.

We grabbed our bags from the boat, desperate to dry up and get changed. As soon as I got my jeans and hoodie on, I felt better. I was just about to sit down by the fire when the girls got back from behind the rocks, wearing their dry clothes, looking happy.

Even Emma wore long jeans and a cardigan now. So, this little, mischievous sprite could feel cold sometimes, too. I smiled at her, and she sat down next to me, close, returning my smile.

We put all the food we brought together and ate hungrily, laughing and talking. It was such a great day. We were lucky that the weather remained good, fogless for so long. It was still sunny, even though the temperature had dropped since the morning and still more grey, water infused clouds were gathering in the sky. Summer days like this one were most likely over for this year.

After we had finished eating, I pulled the camera out of my backpack and took a few pictures of our little group to capture these moments forever.

"May I have a look at the pictures from yesterday?" Emma asked, reminding me about the photos from our trip to the Byron's Lighthouse the day before.

"Sure, they are quite interesting, actually," I said, handing her the camera.

As she went through them, Emma spotted the white smudge, that hint of someone, there but not quite, even without me pointing it out to her. She looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded.

Claire seemed to have noticed something odd, too, because her eyes lingered much longer over some of the photographs.

"Do you think this... Could it be... her?" she asked tentatively, pointing at one of the mysterious smudges.

"I don't really know," I admitted carefully. I didn't want to talk about it in front of Dean. He would just make fun of me, he was like Dad.

"Whatever you guys think you are seeing, don't show these to my father," Dean said when he took the camera from Claire. "Otherwise, he will most likely go ghost-watching by the Old Lighthouse for who knows how long. He's done that before. I really don't want to be closed in the pub for the rest of the summer instead of him. I have better things to do," he said, looking meaningfully at Claire.

It made us all laugh.

"Do you want to see the caves?" Emma asked me after we packed up everything after our lunch, and I put the camera safely back in my backpack. We were nearly ready to return home. It was getting late. The sun was descending slowly, covering the beach in much longer shadows now.

"Emma," Dean interrupted her, "just the first one, if you really have to go in. Remember..."

"I know, they're dangerous. Only the first room, Dean, that's not even a proper cave.
Shall we go?" she said to me, standing up, offering me her hand to help me to my feet.

"Sure," I said, despite Dean's frown.

I was curious. Dean seemed to want to say something more to discourage us, but Claire put her hand on his leg, and he remained silent.

We left them sitting close together by the strange, bluish driftwood fire that smelled of sea and made the bright pebbles of the beach look as white as snow.

I followed Emma to the end of the beach farther from the stairs, the pebbles clattering loudly under our feet. There, hidden behind a large, upright rock, invisible from the sea, was a large hole in the cliff.

An entrance to a cave.