A couple of days later, we cruised through winding rural roads. I have to admit my spirits had started to soar.
There was a catalog of aromas filling the crisp country air; freshly cut grass, flowers, hay. I took it all in through the open windows; even the manure didn't smell so bad to me today.
I had barely left the city in years, and I could not deny how refreshing it was to inhale the wonderful Westcountry air.
There was something so liberating about the sprawling, patchwork meadows. This change of scenery was doing wonders for my morale. I felt inspired, almost...
"Okay, kids!" cried Jemima's dad Henry. "It's coming up in five, four, three, two..."
We turned a corner and Jemima, and I sat up expectantly. What's at the end of this countdown?
"One!"
My stomach lurched as it came into view.
It was calm today and a deep midnight blue. From up above you could see the little shimmering folds of all the waves across the seascape, making it appear as one flat everlasting sapphire.
Jemima and Henry whooped, and I forced myself to make some kind of sound that might too insinuate joy.
"You sound like a strangled cat," said Jemima.
I giggled. "Shut up," I replied.
"There it is," said Henry. "Mama Ocean."
I couldn't help but laugh again. I liked this name.
"How is Mama Ocean?" I asked, suddenly curious. It was just four years ago when the marine life was washing up dead on the shore. Henry was a 'Search and Rescue' pilot and would be in a good position to know.
"It's okay now, Crystal," said Henry. "Although something's a little strange with the food chain..."
"Hmm, like what?" I asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
"Some sort of new predator... A lot more of the small fish, less of the bigguns, if you know what I mean."
"Hmm," I said quietly. I wouldn't worry, I told myself. The merfolk were powerful creatures; they could take out sharks. So whatever this new thing was, it would be nothing to them.
"But generally, I think mama and her children are recovering nicely," he said.
"Oh that's good," I replied. It was good news, but I was suddenly feeling uneasy all over again.
"Thanks to you and your parents, that is," said Henry, sighing.
The unsettling memories began to resurface. A smashed bottle; my jeans damp from blood.
"How are you feeling now... about all that?" asked Henry.
I cleared my throat. "Erm... I've been okay. But I guess it may be a bit weird coming back after all this time."
Henry sighed. "Of course. It's such a bloody pity that whole thing had to happen to you," he paused suddenly, as though he realized something. "I'm sorry I made such a brouhaha about the sea earlier. It must stir up all kinds of things."
I smiled politely. He has no idea, bless him, how much the sea stirs up for me.
"Oh gosh, it's fine," I heard myself reply. "It's actually nice to see it again."
***
"Darling!" my parents chimed as I got out of Henry's van.
I instantly broke into a smile as I saw them both. My Dad stood in his relaxed stance, his snowy white hair blowing in the breeze and my mum was by his side, as elegant as ever.
I hugged them both feeling emotional all over again. I had not seen them in ages, and I loved them so very much.
After our reunion, we turned our focus on the mountain of boxes being offloaded onto the pavement.
"Bloody hell, Crystal, did you have to bring all that stuff back?" said Dad, looking nervously between the boxes and his red speed boat, docked in the harbor just close to where we were parked.
"Um, did you want me to bin all my possessions?" I argued, looking at him with disbelief.
"Well, did you even sort through them?" he demanded.
"Er, no, sorry, I was too busy breaking up with my boyfriend and upheaving my entire life," I snapped. Great, this is just a taster, no doubt, of what moving home is going to be like.
Dad glowered at me, but Mum cut in.
"We will just have to do two trips over to the island," she said firmly, raising her eyebrows at both of us. I couldn't really tell whose side she was on, if either, but she looked disdainful like she didn't approve of something. "Let's not bicker in front of our friends here."
I turned and smiled apologetically at Henry and Jemima.
"I'm sorry," I said. "And thank you so, so much - for everything."
"No probs, babes," said Jemima hugging me. "Everything will be okay," she whispered in my ear. "Call me if you need me."
***
That night, back on the island I sat in my room, gazing out of my window at the sea. I had been reluctant to do so, but I knew I had to confront it. I couldn't escape it, for goodness' sake. I was on a flipping island. The sun had nearly set and cast a golden streaked semi-circle on the waters.
As it dipped further, the sun - now three-quarters hidden - and its reflection began to resemble the shape of a rugby ball, albeit a bright dazzling one.
I sat there in a contemplative trance when I heard my phone ring. Who is calling me at this time?
I got up and went over to my desk where the phone was ringing.
It was Sam!
I hesitated before answering. Is it too soon? What can I possibly say that would make it better?
I pressed the green Answer button. Neither of these things mattered; blanking him was the worst thing I could do.
"Hi Sam," I said hesitantly.
"Hey," came his voice on the other end.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Well, not really but I haven't taken an overdose or hung myself."
I was silent.
"I have drunk a lot of alcohol, though; I'll tell you that much."
I laughed. "What's up?"
"I just wanted to talk to you," he replied.
"Okay..?" I pressed. I bit my lip and waited.
"I've just been going over and over it in my head..." he said. "I can think of a few reasons now why you did it."
"Sam-" I began.
"Was it because of what I said to you that night?" he said desperately. "You know when I said you didn't like sex?"
"No!" I exclaimed. "No, don't torture yourself, Sam, seriously, that was okay. A little hurtful," I added, "but forgivable."
"Okay, good. Because I didn't mean it. I was just frustrated by how distant you were becoming towards me."
"I'm so sorry; I never meant to act distant Sam and hurt you, please don't blame yourself anymore, okay?"
This conversation is making me feel SO much worse.
"Mmm," he continued. "But-"
"But what?" I said with dread. There's more?
"But I think I understand now why you were distant," he continued.
I sighed. There's no way he could understand. No way.
"It's because you wanted to move back to the country, and I was trying to force you to stay in London."
"Err..." I began.
"But, look, I wanted to tell you that I will come and live with you out there," he said this so quickly - like he couldn't wait to get the words out of his mouth. "I'm so sorry I didn't think of it before. I just assumed you wanted to stay here in the city, but now I've had some time to reflect, I can see that I was wrong to do that to you..."
"Oh, my gosh, Sam!" I cried.
I heard him laugh on the other end. It sounded like a laugh of relief.
"I know. I know. I can quit my job, like, tomorrow, and come to Coney. I checked the trains and everything."
"No, Sam, please," I begged him. "Please don't quit your job. That wasn't the reason we broke up okay? It's just like I said at the time; I don't know if we're meant to go further than this. And I'm so, so sorry."
I heard his voice break on the other end. "But I think we are meant to go further than this," he said.
I felt tears build up in my own eyes. It was unbearable to hear him suffer like this.
"We had such a wonderful run," I said, trying to find the words to make this okay for him. "I will never forget our times together... But please, please. You have to move on; I want you to be happy - like you deserve."
"But maybe if I just see you... if we could just see each other again, you might change your mind..." he persisted hoarsely.
I took a deep breath. The truth of the matter was, however painful this breakup had been, I had never once regretted it.
"No," I whispered. "I'm sorry. But you are such a wonderful guy. You could have any girl in the world, so seriously, please don't wait for me and don't blame yourself."
There was silence. I opened my mouth to say something else, but then there was a bleeping sound. He was gone.
I put my head in my hands and sank into my desk chair. Urgh, this is horrible!
As I sat at my desk, I suddenly realized that everything I had just said to Sam was reminiscent of something else.
I pictured Llyr that night when we lay on the moss by the fire. His strong arms were wrapped around me, and I had tried to ask him about our future. He had told me that our relationship could never work long-term because of the winter months. It would be impossible to see each other; he had insisted, and I would waste my life waiting around for him. I too had made desperate suggestions, just like Sam. I told Llyr we could run away together, somewhere warm where we could be together all year round.
"I don't want you to wait for me."
I heard him say those devastating words all over again.
"I just want you to be happy."
I was hit by a horrible thought. Maybe he hadn't really been in love with me, just like I hadn't been with Sam.
I justprayed Sam would get over me quickly. I wouldn't wish the heartache I had had overLlyr on anybody.