Oceans Apart

Grief had driven a wedge between them, and Anna couldn’t see a way back . . .

ANNA PRESTON dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. She should never have agreed to a weekend away on the boat. It was too much, too soon.

She leaned back to watch a white gull wheeling in the cobalt sky. The bird’s plaintive cry stirred the pain in her chest.

Her heart was a shattered mess. Would she ever feel normal again?

On the deck of the cabin cruiser, her husband, Michael, straightened from securing the anchor warp and sent her a thin smile. “All right there, love?” Anna didn’t reply. She knew Michael was well aware of her answer.

She swivelled her head and dared a glance across the water to the curving stretch of beach. A party was getting underway on the pale frill of sand. A party she was expected to attend.

The knot in her stomach drew tighter.

In the past, she’d loved nothing better than a social occasion with Michael and their friends. Right now, though, all she wanted was to stay on the boat, alone.

Michael’s sturdy frame came into view as he stepped into the cockpit, his hair a windswept mess about his face. He pushed it back from his forehead and joined her on the padded bench seat.

The trip away had been his suggestion. To clear their heads, he’d said. Though judging by the amount of alcohol stowed on board, head clearing was the least of his intentions.

“Looks like they’re starting the bonfire.” He turned towards her, an expectant look on his face. “How about we fetch the cooler and go ashore?”

Warmth flared on Anna’s skin as he settled his arm next to hers. She pulled away, preferring the sting of the evening breeze instead.

Michael stared at her, his eyes betraying not only hurt but a good measure of irritation as well.

To his credit, he stayed silent.

Anna stood up and leaned against the cruiser’s railing. Across the bay, a flotilla of various craft bobbed on the incoming tide.

In the distance, she could see their friends Rick and Tina arriving in the quirky sailboat with the green hull and red mast. Normally the sight made her smile, but not today. Today nothing lightened her mood.

“You go in if you like.” She licked the tang of salt air from her lips. “I’m staying here for a while.”

“What? Anna, no.” Michael’s voice, usually a smooth baritone, jumped an octave. “I’m not leaving you here on your own, love. Not like this. Besides, you said –”

“I know what I said, Michael, but I’ve changed my mind. I’m not ready.” Not when she still felt so empty.

She moved her hands to her stomach, to the raw,

Rhubarb,

vacant spot where only weeks before their first child had lain cradled inside her. Until death had swooped in and stolen her precious dream.

Michael stepped behind her and slid his arms over hers.

“Anna . . .”

The word was hollowsounding, as if dredged from somewhere deep in his throat.

It struck Anna that it was all Michael needed to say. Because the other words – the ones he undoubtedly wanted to say, but couldn’t – were there between them anyway.

Words like “How could you let this happen, Anna?”

Those silent accusations loomed as surely as if he’d shouted them in her face.

She pushed at his hands and spun round.

“What is it you want from me, Michael?”

He flinched, but a brutal pressure built from within, searching for an outlet.

“You keep saying we’ll get through this together, Anna, but we’re not together, are we?”

From across the bay, Rick rowed Rhubarb’s green dinghy straight towards them. Tina waved from the stern.

“Hey!” she called. “We’ve come to collect you for the party.”

Anna stared at Michael, her breath a series of short, sharp gasps.

“I can’t do this. Tell them I’m sick or something.”

She ducked into the galley, heading to the forward cabin where she could lick her wounds in private.

Tina knew about the baby. The conversation had been brief and awkward.

“I’m so sorry,” Tina had said, and then offered a girls’ night out as consolation.

Anna realised she meant well, but none of her friends understood. They were young career women like herself. Babies were something for the future.

“Sick?” Michael grabbed the cooler from inside the cabin, his expression dark and unyielding. “Sick of your husband by the sound of things.”

He turned around and moved towards the waiting dinghy.

“Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Anna dug her nails into her palms again and choked back the sob that rose in her throat. Her life was in turmoil, and her marriage in shreds.

She threw herself on to the bed and lay curled in a ball, invisible fingers wringing the air from her lungs.

Breathe, Anna, she told herself. You have to find a way through this.

Sleep rode in on the back of exhaustion, a fitful stream of mercurial thoughts that brought her no peace.

When she finally awoke, the sun was beginning to set. Minute by minute the vibrant hues of scarlet and tangerine bled into the horizon until all that remained was a lipstick smudge.

She returned to the cockpit, stretching her cramped legs on the bench seat and covering herself with a blanket.

Night sounds enveloped her: waves lapping a hypnotic rhythm against the hull; the soft clang of a halyard on a yacht’s mast.

The smell of grilled food wafted out to her, too. Not that she cared to eat anything. Anger seemed the only thing sustaining her these days – that and a sadness so profound it spiralled through every nerve.

The pregnancy had come as a bolt from the blue. Her family was ecstatic on hearing the news, and Michael could scarcely contain himself.

He designed and built boats for a living, and the thought of one day crafting a boat for his own child had him twirling her round in delight.

She, on the other hand, with a degree in journalism and an eye on one day becoming editor of the current affairs magazine she worked for, took a little longer to convince.

The only baby she knew was her sister’s: an applecheeked little girl who appeared to Anna as the golden sphere her parents orbited round.

Was she ready for the same level of commitment herself? Was she capable of caring for a tiny human being, the likes of which she knew nothing about?

In the end it was Michael who had settled the matter.

He pulled her on to the sofa one night and took her hands in his. The gesture was gentle, yet possessed an underlying strength that made her feel loved and protected.

“I know you’re a bit shaken up, love,” he said. “But you’re going to make a wonderful mother.” Anna blew out a sigh. “You don’t know that for sure.”

“Yes, I do. Remember the hedgehog incident on our honeymoon?”

The memory caused her to smile. They’d rented a holiday cottage in the Cotswolds for a week.

One night a hedgehog had appeared on the patio, sporting a nasty scratch across its nose and looking the worse for wear. Anna had rushed to its aid.

“Michael, see if you can find a box and some newspaper,” she’d called.

Then she’d cleaned the wound with warm salty water and dabbed on some aloe vera gel to help with the healing.

“We’ll take him to a vet in the morning to make sure he’s OK.”

“Goodness, how much will that cost?” Michael had replied. “And what about our trip to the farmers’ market?”

“Oh, Michael, you don’t expect me to leave a poor defenceless creature out there with an infected cut, do you?”

Michael hadn’t, of course, and after receiving the all-clear from the vet, they’d let him loose in the garden again.

Anna was happy to give the little fellow his freedom, but sadness bruised her heart at the same time. Letting go was never her strong suit.

Back on the sofa, she gazed into Michael’s eyes.

“That was different,” she said. “There’s no comparison between a hedgehog and a baby.” Michael laughed. “Agreed, but your nurturing instincts rose to the challenge of protecting a vulnerable animal that night. I know I grumbled about having our honeymoon plans interrupted, but to be honest I was quite in awe of you.”

Anna blinked.

“You were?”

“Of course I was. I still am, actually.”

Then he led her to the computer and showed her a Youtube video of a developing baby in the womb. At the six-week mark, she could clearly see the baby’s heartbeat on an ultrasound scan.

It was a miracle in the making, and from that moment on everything had changed for the better.

She and Michael were growing their own golden sphere, she realised, and her heart had overflowed with joy.

Anna drew her knees to her chest and pulled the blanket tighter around her. The weight of events from the past month had her doubting Michael would ever be in awe of her again.

Her heart tumbled as she closed her eyes and succumbed to another long-ago memory – the summer she’d given her heart to a young man whose smouldering eyes and kisses had sent her to heaven. But with him bound for university at one end of the country and her at the other, they’d both known it wasn’t to be.

On their last night

Sadness bruised her heart. Letting go was never her strong suit

together, he’d given her a locket with their names engraved on either side.

“It holds the memory of us,” he’d said. Then he’d kissed her and told her to stay strong.

But she hadn’t. Her heart might as well have stopped beating, and the next day she couldn’t get out of bed for crying. It seemed she would never find love again.

But things had begun to improve, albeit slowly.

She’d gone off to university, and though the pain of losing her first love had still rippled through her, she’d also appreciated that the loss had made her stronger.

It was something she was never more aware of than on the day she stood with her classmates to collect her degree.

An ocean swell rocked the boat and Anna opened her eyes.

She could sit out here wallowing in pain and grief for the rest of the evening, but that wouldn’t change a thing. What she needed to do was share the burden of loss, not seal it inside like a great, unmovable stone.

So many things were good in her life: a rewarding job, a comfortable home, and a boat for weekend excursions.

Most important – at least it had been until a few weeks ago – was her relationship with Michael. Michael, who in his own aggrieved way was suffering as much as she was.

Anna dragged in a breath as realisation hit her.

The time had come to reach out to the most important person in her life, because as much as love hurt sometimes, it also had the power to heal.

The blanket slid to the floor as thoughts of her husband’s love took shape in her mind. She wanted to be with him now more than anything in the world.

He was everything real in her life, and she wanted his arms around her, his passion and strength.

She scrambled to her feet. The night wind carried the noise of revellers from the beach and the rhythmic sound of oars rubbing against rowlocks, the gentle splash as they dipped in and out of the sea.

Her pulse quickened as she recognised the approaching figure of Michael, coming back for her just as he had after graduation.

He’d turned up on her doorstep one day, a little older and wiser-looking, to declare that despite three years of separation, he couldn’t let go of her. The puzzle of his life was missing a piece.

“I couldn’t do it, love,” he said. “I couldn’t stay on the beach with you out here on your own.”

Anna slipped her hand into his.

“I want to confess something,” she said. “I’ve been insisting I need time on my own to think things through, when what I’ve really been doing is pushing you further and further away, because I haven’t been able to face you.”

Michael opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

“The thing is, we were lucky before. We found our way back to each other and the puzzle became complete. But not this time.

“This time we’ve lost a piece we can’t get back, and I saw no way to cope with the pain.

“But now I’m wondering that if we also put our child’s memory inside the locket, we’ll be carrying it together and the burden won’t be quite so heavy. Does that make sense to you?”

Michael lifted the silver locket fastened around her neck, his name engraved on one side, hers on the other.

“I think it makes perfect sense.”

Watching his strong fingers around the locket, something inside Anna uncurled. Enough to make her admit that her troubles felt lighter already.

There was one other thing, though, and even although she already knew the answer, she still needed to be reassured.

“Do you blame me, Michael? For losing our baby?”

Michael brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Is that what you think? I’ve been sad and unhappy, yes, but mostly for what you went through – never because of you.

“For some reason we’re not meant to be parents yet, but there will be another baby for us to love. I’m sure of it.”

Anna gazed up at his earnest expression.

“I want to believe you, but what if there aren’t any more? What if we can’t have children?”

Michael drew her into his arms then, guiding her head to his chest. It was warm and hard, and the rhythm of his heart beat a comforting tattoo.

“We are strong people, and together we’re even stronger. Life isn’t always easy, but whatever comes our way we’ll find the means to cope.”

He pressed a tender kiss to her temple.

“For now it’s a beautiful night for star gazing, so let’s put those negative thoughts aside and take some time out for us.”

Anna wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I think you might be forgetting something. That’s Rick and Tina’s dinghy tied to the back of our boat, and without it, they’re marooned on the beach.

“We could just cut it loose,” Michael joked. “I’m sure it will drift into shore.”

Anna laughed for the first time in weeks.

“It’s tempting, but I have another idea. Why don’t we row it in together? I think I’m ready to join the party.” n

She wanted to be with her husband more than anything The rhythm of his heart beat a comforting tattoo