by Gillian Best
‘I understand you’re upset. But let me tell you about what she’s done,’ he said.
‘Oh yes, do tell us,’ Harriet said.
‘She’s worked incredibly hard. She’s come up here every weekend to train in the harbour. She’s done the requisite open water swim, 18 miles with no wetsuit.’
‘Sorry?’ Iris said. ‘Every weekend?’
Everyone turned their attention to me.
‘I took the train up, first thing on a Saturday. Henry picked me up and brought me to the harbour and I did what Charlie told me to do.’
‘She’s done everything that’s been asked of her,’ Henry said.
‘The open water swim?’ Iris asked.
‘You know how me and Robin went to Lanzarote for training camp in March?’
She nodded.
I scrunched up my nose. ‘Well, we were training, but in Jersey. With a woman named Sal.’
Iris whipped her head around to Henry. ‘You knew about this? Two underage children going to Jersey on their own?’
Henry held up his index finger as though to highlight his point. ‘That I found out about after the fact.’
Harriet took a deep breath, and laid her hands on the table. ‘Let me try and understand this. You took the train up here every weekend, and swam in that freezing cold harbour with an old fisherman as your coach? After having got on an airplane on your own, and staying on Jersey for a week.’
I nodded.
‘How could you lie to us?’ Iris said. ‘Haven’t we always told you that you can tell us anything?’
‘There’s anything and then there’s this.’
‘All this sneaking around,’ Iris tutted. ‘All this lying.’ She folded her hands over her chest. ‘I don’t know who you are right now. You’re certainly not my daughter.’
‘I had to! You wouldn’t have let me otherwise.’
‘Who says we’re letting you now?’ Harriet demanded.
‘Because you have to. It’s too late not to, everyone’s ready. Charlie says the weather looks good and so we’re going. Before dawn tomorrow morning. You can’t stop me.’
‘The hell I can,’ Harriet said.
‘Mum!’ I half-whined, half-shouted. ‘I’ve trained harder for this than anything. I learned to swim in the sea. I got used to the cold water. I gained a stone and a half! I just want to follow in Grandma’s footsteps.’
Harriet shook her head.
And so I said something I knew would hurt her, but I felt it was my last hope. ‘You kept me away from her, and if it wasn’t for swimming, I would’ve never met her. She would’ve died up here, alone, without anyone. Everyone here has gone out of their way to help me. Charlie’s even agreed for Granddad to come along on the boat. And I want you to be there too.’ I stood up. ‘You don’t have to come, but you can’t stop me. I’m old enough to do it without your permission.’
My Mum’s face went pale and she turned toward the wall.
‘Myrtle,’ Iris cautioned.
‘What?’ I said. I had completely lost my patience. ‘For years, all she said about them was that they were horrible, awful people. I get that they hurt her, I do. But they’re my grandparents, and I barely even got to know Martha. I want to do this. I’ve trained, it’s all organised, and I’m ready.’
Harriet wouldn’t look at me.
‘You’re as bad as you say they are!’ I shouted. I’m sure the entire pub heard me. I stumbled over my chair and ran outside.
A few minutes later, Iris came to find me. She sat on the curb next to me and didn’t say anything, which was what she always did when she wanted me to talk.
‘I can do it,’ I said.
‘I’ve no doubt you can,’ she said.
The street was empty and it felt like we were in a ghost town. In the distance, I heard the horn of the ferry arriving from Calais.
‘Then why won’t she let me?’
Iris sighed. ‘It’s been a hard year.’
‘No, really?’
She put her hand on my knee and squeezed. ‘I know it’s been hard for you too. But try and see it from her point of view. She’s already lost her mother, and her father too, for the most part. She couldn’t bear losing you.’
‘She’s not going to,’ I said. ‘You’ve seen me swim. So has she. I’m strong enough to do this. Why can’t she trust me?’
‘It’s not you she doesn’t trust. When she was a girl, she almost lost your grandmother on her first swim.’
‘I know, but that wasn’t the sea’s fault. That was Grandma’s. She told me. She wasn’t ready. But I am.’
I looked at my Mum and didn’t know what else to say to convince them. ‘Everyone here has gone out of their way. Charlie, he retired last year, but he’s going back out just for me. I’m not letting everything they’ve done go to waste.’
Iris sighed as she stood up. ‘You’re just as stubborn as she is.’
‘Who?’
She smiled. ‘I don’t know why I’ve surrounded myself by such strong-willed women.
I took her hand and she pulled me up.
‘But I have.’ She put her arm around my shoulders. ‘Okay. I’ll work on Harriet if you promise me something.’
‘Anything.’
‘If at any time you start to struggle, you come out. No ifs ands or buts about it. If there’s even a whiff of danger, you get out of the water.’
‘Okay.’
‘I mean it.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Oh, and one more thing.’
She braced herself.
‘Granddad comes in the boat.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, he’s so frail.’
‘He always comes on the swims. He’s like a good luck charm.’
She laughed, shaking her head. ‘I’ll leave the bit about John being good luck out of it.’
The Boxing Day after Martha had passed, the lot of us, my family, Uncle Iain, Henry and Granddad, all walked down to the harbour. My mum and Uncle Iain walked together and I saw them whispering, which wasn’t normal especially since we’d been getting on each other’s nerves. My grandparents’ house wasn’t big and with so many people in it, it was even smaller.
After Grandma died we’d scattered her ashes in the sea. Uncle Iain had left early for some emergency at work, and he and my mums had agreed that we would all come back to Dover to give my grandfather one last Christmas in his own house, before he got moved into a care home.
Granddad stayed at home and a carer came to see him a few times a week, to make sure he was okay, and Henry kept an eye on him. The problem was that there were only two care homes in Dover and they both had waiting lists, so Granddad would have to stay where he was. My Mums didn’t really have time to go and visit him and since I knew how to get there, I got into the habit of taking the train up myself.
In the months leading up to Christmas, my Mum had a lot of fights with my Uncle over Skype. It was weird seeing her shout at the computer and I felt bad for him because it wasn’t his fault any of this was happening, but my Mum felt like it was up to her to keep on top of things and visit, and that made me upset too, because when she talked about Granddad, she made it sound like he was a burden.
The thing is, because they were spending so much time fighting about him they didn’t have time to really figure anything out as far as a gravestone went. I knew from having gone running down by the water where she used to swim, when we were putting things in order as my mum said, that there were these really sweet plaques on the benches that lined the promenade. So I suggested we get one for her.
Everyone liked the idea, but by the time Christmas rolled around, and we were all back in Dover, somebody realised we needed the council’s permission.
Everyone sort of paired off as we went down to the harbour, and I took the chance to walk alongside Henry because we hadn’t really been able to talk privately.
‘Did you see Charlie?’ I asked urgently.
‘I did. He’ll do it, but there’s a proble
m. Well, there are a few. You need to complete one open water swim before they’ll let you try the Channel. And technically you won’t be old enough.’
‘How am I going to do an open water swim before summer?’
‘You have cleared this with your mothers, right?’
‘Yeah, totally. I just want it to be a surprise for everyone else.’
He looked sceptical but didn’t ask any more questions. ‘Come by my house later, Charlie gave me the number of a woman down in Jersey who might be able to help.’
We got to the pier and Mum and Iain went underneath, stopping in front of one of the trestles. The rest of us waited for them to explain what we were doing. The sky was threatening rain and the wind was blowing a gale. Not the ideal day for a relaxing stroll.
Mum smiled and pulled out a small hammer from her bag and Iain took the plaque we had made for the bench out of his pocket.
‘We wanted to get a bench in Martha’s honour, to commemorate her life and the time she spent here,’ Iain said.
‘But sorting it out with the council was… difficult,’ Mum said.
‘And we wanted, well, we thought this would be…’ Iain said. He looked at his sister and I could tell that he was choked up.
Mum swallowed hard and looked out at the sea, which was stormy, the wind whipping the waves into a frothy mess that freaked me out because soon I could find myself swimming in similar conditions.
‘It’s important that we’re all here. Together.’
‘As a family,’ Iain added. ‘We live…’ He paused and looked at my grandfather, who was standing next to me and Henry and staring at the sea. ‘This is the place where my mother learned to swim. It’s where she taught us to swim, and where she spent her life. Here, in this water. A gravestone so far away from the water wouldn’t be right.’
‘She needed a fitting send off,’ Harriet said. ‘When I think about her, I think about how when we were growing up, everyone in town called her the Lady in the Harbour. She didn’t know this, but I used to come sometimes after school and watch her.’
‘So we’re going to put this here,’ Iain said holding up the plaque. ‘Not as a reminder to us, but as a reminder to the sea that she loved.’
He took the hammer and my mum held the plaque and after they fumbled around with the nails, they managed to get it tacked up. Over the wind and the waves, I heard the pebbles shift and saw my grandfather shuffling forward. He looked at my Mum and smiled.
‘It was hot and we came under here and I took you in my arms,’ he said, putting his hand on Mum’s shoulder. ‘We were in love. My landlady was away and I took you home with me that night. And when I held you and traced the outline of your costume across your back, I knew. I knew it that night when we were standing here.’
Mum was crying. ‘Knew what?’
‘That you would be my wife.’ He reached out for her face. ‘You were the only one for me.’
‘I’m your daughter, Dad,’ Mum said. ‘I’m Harriet.’
He looked at her blankly.
‘Dad, Mum’s not here anymore.’
‘No, she trains at the Bay now. It’s not as crowded.’
‘She doesn’t train anymore, Dad,’ Iain said. ‘She’s passed away.’
He whipped his head around angrily. ‘No, she hasn’t.’
‘Yes, she has. A couple of months ago.’
‘No,’ he insisted. ‘She swims. In September, she’ll swim the Channel.’
After my Mum nailed the plaque to the trestle we’d all gone back to the house, I sat beside my grandfather, flicking through the channels on the telly, looking for something to watch that would drown out the conversation my parents and uncle were having.
It bothered me that they were talking about him when he was in the room. I knew he had dementia and that he didn’t always understand what was going on, but it still felt wrong. And mean. They used to say that sort of thing to me when I was younger. They’d say that I didn’t understand, or that I couldn’t understand, and even though that may have been true, I knew that they were talking about me and that I wasn’t going to have any say in what happened.
‘We’re abandoning him. He won’t know anyone there,’ Iain said.
I glared at them from the sofa but they didn’t notice.
‘He doesn’t know us anymore,’ Harriet said.
‘It doesn’t feel right, dumping him somewhere.’
‘What’s the alternative? Are you going to quit your job and move back? To watch him all day, every day?’
I found an old episode of Dr Who – a Christmas special I’d seen before – and turned up the volume, wishing the Doctor and his Tardis would come and take Granddad and me away with him.
‘He needs his family, Harry. He needs us.’
My mum slammed her hands on the table and it sounded the same as when someone intentionally did a belly flop off the starting blocks: a crack and a slap at the same time.
‘He doesn’t know who the hell we are!’
My mum’s voice overwhelmed even the Daleks.
‘Look around you,’ she said. ‘He’s not our father anymore. Moving back here to take care of him is not going to change any of that. It won’t do anything for your guilt.’
‘But we haven’t even tried.’
I turned my head and saw her wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and Iris rubbing her back.
‘The best thing we can do for him is to get him into a care home.’
‘We should’ve done more,’ Iain said.
‘You can’t focus on what you didn’t do,’ Iris said. ‘You can’t change the past.’
I was lucky because spring came early that year, and March came in like a lamb and left as one, too. As the warm air pushed in from the continent, the water in the harbour at Dover warmed slightly, which was good news because I had traded chlorine for salt.
The first Saturday in April, I got on a train out of Charing Cross and headed to Dover. I arrived at the station and Henry met me at the station.
He hugged me and then asked, ‘Are you sure about this?’
I nodded and he shook his head in a way that I took to mean I was a frustration, but in a good way, and we drove down to the harbour which wasn’t crowded with other swimmers because it was too early in the season. But I had to make up for lost time.
We stood next to the car and surveyed the sea, which was glassy and calm, but also a foreboding grey. Henry reached into the back seat and handed me a wetsuit.
‘Charlie says you’re to wear this until further notice.’
‘I’ve been training outdoors. In the lido.’
‘What did we agree?’ Henry said in his schoolteacher voice.
‘That I was to do exactly as Charlie says.’
He looked at me with raised eyebrows. I picked up the wetsuit.
‘Fine,’ I said.
And so I developed a rhythm. Saturday mornings I took an early train and arrived in Dover around 10am. I would swim until lunch, when Henry would drive us up to my grandfather’s care home. We got Granddad bundled into the car, which was no easy feat because his ankle had never really healed and so he walked with a limp and a stick, which could be used as a weapon if the moment took him, and together we went to the White Horse Inn for lunch.
The morning of my swim, Charlie picked us up and we all got on his boat together: my parents, Henry and Granddad. Iris had calmed Harriet down after dinner and convinced her – somehow – that it was my choice and that the right thing to do was support me.
We motored out of the harbour and over to Shakespeare’s Bay. The weather was good and the water was calm. The sun hadn’t quite peaked over the horizon yet, but even though I felt nervous, I was more excited than anything. Charlie got as close to the shore as he could and went over the rules with me once more.
‘Rule number one: you cannot touch the boat, anyone in it, or the feeding pole. Understood?’ he said.
I stood on the deck of his fishing boat with my family around me and
nodded my head.
‘Number two,’ he said. ‘Feedings start after the first two hours. From then, it’s every forty-five minutes. I don’t care if you’re not hungry.’
‘Okay,’ I said.
There was a gentle breeze that curled around me and I shivered slightly, standing there in only my swimming costume.
‘The last, and most important rule is this: if you’re struggling, if your stroke rate goes down, if the sea gets too choppy, if you get cold, if anything happens – and I mean anything – that I think puts you in jeopardy, then you are getting out. Getting. Out. Do you understand?’
I nodded.
‘Say it,’ he said, in this gruff voice that I used to be scared of but had come to learn was just his way of being kind.
‘I understand. I will come out if I’m in danger.’
He turned to my parents and said, ‘I would’ve liked her to have had more experience in the open water.’ He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and looked at the water. ‘You two are going to have to watch for signs that she’s getting cold. Some of them will be hard to see, so to check her mental state you’ll have to ask questions. Simple ones. If she struggles to answer, if her speech is slurred – even if you think it sounds slurred – she comes out.’
Iris held Harriet’s hand tightly and said, ‘Okay.’
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked me up and down. ‘Are you ready?’
‘I’m ready.’
He pointed into the distance. ‘That’s France,’ he said. ‘That’s where we’re headed. The tide’s on its way, so you should have the luck of the currents. Stay close to the boat. Pay attention. Conditions can change quickly.’
‘Charlie?’ I said.
‘What?’
‘It’s time to get in the water.’
He smiled and kissed my forehead. ‘Do Martha proud,’ he said, before going to the controls. He turned and added, ‘What are you waiting for? Sea’s ready for you.’
My belly did flip-flops and I was so hyped I thought I might be sick, but I held it together.
Before I slipped off the back of the boat and into the water, I took Granddad’s hand. He looked totally ridiculous with a bright orange lifejacket strapped to him, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was sitting down next to the edge so he could watch me swim, and at his feet was the case he’d brought when Martha had swum.