Midsummer’s day. Dawn. She woke to the angry lap of water, and the motion of a rough sea which had dominated her sleep. She felt dizzy and sick. She stumbled out of the hold and onto the deck. She hung over the side and vomited.
It hadn’t all been like this. There had been beautiful days, when she had lain in the sun, on the roof of the boat, and soaked up its rays. On those days, she had felt as though she was healing from all the hurt and sadness she had endured over the past year. She had felt positive, and was glad she had followed Alexa’s advice and taken this crewing job. It was a good way to get over things.
Here, in the middle of the deep blue sea there was nothing to focus on, just the vast expanse of water and the vast expanse of sky. It helped to get things into perspective.
But now they were near land. In fact, they had been able to see land for several days but the sea had been so agitated it had been unsafe to go any closer to the shore. They had to wait until it settled.
She felt as though she was going crazy. She wanted so badly to feel terra firma under her feet. Every day she felt more and more nauseous. They said this always happened, that everyone got seasick, no matter how good a sailor they were. But she just wanted to get off the boat.
She had come to her senses. She wanted her baby back. And she wanted to go home. She closed her eyes and saw her mammy in the kitchen. She could almost smell her – sweet pink roses – that’s what she smelt like. She wanted her mammy to hold her so badly it made her gasp.
Beatrice stared down at the water. There was nothing left in her stomach to throw up. She looked at the shadows beneath the sea’s surface. There was no reason to be afraid. She got up quickly and fetched a plastic bag. She collected together her few possessions and put them in it. Then she tied it to her waist. She was going to go home. She was a good swimmer, and she was sure she could make it to land. She did not fear the water.
She climbed onto the edge of the boat. She could hear the crew calling her, but she did not pause to listen. She sprang into the air and dived into the sea.
The water was waiting for her. She had not expected it to challenge her so. She floundered as the current pulled and twisted her limbs. The ocean filled her mouth, her lungs. A wave lifted her up, a last flash of day. It rolled her up in a tomb of foam.
Then she went down.
All the way.