by Judy Waite
She stands, silent, watching the water spray up from the bow. A rabble of seagulls circles round them, and then soars away. A couple in a passing rowing boat shout, 'Ahoy there,' and wave happily.
'And there it is . . . up ahead . . . the open sea.' Hugh takes his arm from Alix's shoulder and puts both hands on the wheel. 'We can speed things up a bit now.'
Alix smiles. Laughs. The open sea. The big wide world.
The river has gone.
The tacky tourist towns that run along the edge of the coast have become dots in the distance.
Ahead, the sun sparks down on the endless water, its silk-bright surface flashing a thousand silver sequins. She closes her eyes and a breeze skims her face. Hugh steps behind her. 'You take the wheel, darling. We've got some space round us now, and I've steadied the course. Can you keep us going straight – just for a sec?' He squeezes her shoulder. 'I'll just go and get that champagne.'
She takes hold of the wheel, and Hugh stays behind her, his hands over hers. She glances round at him. 'What total trust, leaving me in charge of your wonderful Zara.' She is still laughing, her insides soaring. She's getting away. She's getting away.
'I'd trust you with anything.' He kisses the back of her neck. 'Oh hang on – perhaps I'd better stay at the helm, just for a moment longer. Looks like there's a patrol boat over to the starboard side. We're going to have to cut the engine for a moment. God knows what its problem is – but it seems to be flashing its lights at us . . . '