by Lucy Gordon
‘No-listen you two-I know you mean well, but-’
‘Meryl, shut up,’ Benedict said firmly. ‘This is pay-back time. What you did for us, we’re doing for you.’
‘But Jarvis and I can’t-’
‘Cut that. For the last week Amanda and I have listened to you talking nonsense about how you and Jarvis can’t live together, and enough is enough. You say he didn’t know how to take your love. Then teach him, you stupid woman. Even if it takes years. That’s your job so get stuck in and do it. All right, Jarvis isn’t very clever about feelings, but just now you’re not being very clever either.
‘He reached out to you. He was asking you to show him the way and understand the things he didn’t know how to say. And you bottled out! I used to think you had guts, Meryl, but you gave up when the going got tough. Fat lot of use to him you were!’
Her jaw dropped. She was speechless.
‘Everything in your life has come giftwrapped,’ Benedict added. ‘Well, this isn’t going to. You’ve worked hard so far, but that ain’t nothin’ to the hard work you’re going to have to put in on your marriage from now on. I know he’s not an easy man, but he put his pride aside for you. Now it’s your turn.
‘You’ll make it, as long as you don’t chicken out again.’
They’d reached the head of the line. Amanda plucked the ticket and passport from Meryl’s nerveless fingers and handed them over. A minute later they were escorting her to the boarding gate.
‘We’re going to stay here to make sure you don’t come out this way again,’ Amanda said.
‘There’s no need,’ Meryl said, her eyes shining. ‘Thank you, both of you, with all my heart.’
Everything now felt wonderfully familiar, including the dreadful weather that greeted her. With nothing but hand luggage Meryl got out of the airport fast and hailed a cab. It took three hours to make the drive, with rain lashing them all the way.
‘How are you going to get across?’ the driver asked as they neared Larne. ‘The water’s too high for me to drive over the causeway.’
‘Someone will take me in a boat,’ she said happily.
‘If you can get one. I think they’re all out looking for that bloke who’s missing.’
‘Who?’ she asked sharply.
‘Dunno. Some lord or other. Went out sailing last night and never came back.’
‘Dear God!’ she wept. ‘Jarvis.’
She pulled out her mobile and dialled Ferdy’s number. He answered in a curt voice that revealed his tension.
‘Ferdy what’s happened? Is it Jarvis?’
‘I’m afraid so. Everyone is looking for him. I’ve been out in my boat, but it’s too small for this job. I’ve hired a big motor boat.’
‘I’m coming, too,’ Meryl cried at once.
‘I’ll be by the causeway.’
He was there waiting for her, with a large white boat, built for strength and speed. He handed Meryl in quickly, and they were away.
She forced herself to speak calmly, although she felt like screaming. ‘Tell me everything.’
‘Jarvis has been spending a lot of time on his own recently. Riding or sailing that little yacht of his. He’s a good sailor, but this morning he went out early and a storm blew up. The coast guard was alerted and there’s been a fleet out looking for him.’
‘But after all this time-’ she almost screamed.
‘People have been found safe and well after much longer than this,’ he said, trying to sound confident.
‘But he must have been in the water for hours already, and it’s cold,’ she said in horror.
Ferdy didn’t answer. There was nothing he could say. He scanned the grey sea ahead as far as the horizon, but he could see with dread that the light was already failing.
They said when you went down for the third time you were finished, but Jarvis had gone down too often to count and still clawed his way gasping to the surface. He knew it was useless to fight. There was nothing but the stormy sea around him, and no help to be found anywhere.
It was his own fault. He’d been careless, functioning on automatic, manning the boat in body but not in spirit. His spirit had been wandering somewhere, seeking her, but she was never there. She’d vanished, as she’d always been bound to; he knew that now. And while he’d been following her in his heart his attention had wandered and he’d been surprised by the sudden sharp wind that cap-sized him.
He’d gone down deep, deep, but he’d fought his way back to the surface and managed to seize hold of the boat. Yet nothing he could do would right it, and he’d been forced to cling on, looking all about him, hoping to see another boat. There was nothing as far as the horizon, in any direction. By now it was raining hard, the wind was rising, and as the hours wore on he felt himself being swept further out to sea, and his hope faded.
The cold got to him, numbing him, making him dangerously sleepy. That was how he lost his grip on the boat. He made a wild grab but it was already a few inches away, then a few feet, and it was too late. He was on his own, the darkness gathering around him, and he was sinking again, using his fast failing strength to claw his way back up.
He knew that if he wasn’t found soon he wouldn’t survive the night. Every moment weakened him. Every descent felt like the last. The water roared in his ears, and when he came up again the storm blasted him. And now he knew he was hallucinating because the howl of the gale seemed to be forming his name.
‘Jarvis! Jarvis!’
The call came again and again. It was in his ears as he slipped beneath the waves for what he was sure was the last time. It reached him even under the water and made him fight his way up again, gasping and heaving. And now to the hallucination of sound was joined the hallucination of sight. For what else, but an illusion could be the woman appearing out of the storm, crying his name in terror?
‘Jarvis! Oh, God, Jarvis, please.’
She looked this way and that, throwing out her arms in a despairing gesture.
‘Jarvis-my love!’
How he managed to call back he never knew. His throat had been frozen into silence, but somehow now it became free enough to utter a choke. Faint as it was, she heard it above the scream of the storm, and called back.
At that moment the moon came out from behind a cloud, flooding the ocean with silver. Out of that silver sea came the woman, her long hair blown by the wind, her arms outstretched to him. In his desperate state he was no longer sure what was real and what fevered illusion. He knew only that if he could reach her, he was safe.
Their hands touched, then slipped apart and he was under again. Through the water he could hear her agonised cry, ‘No, no, no!’ He made one final, frantic effort and felt her fingers grasp his with painful force. He clung to her as she drew him out of the water that tried viciously to claw him back.
As he fell into the bottom of the boat he vaguely realised that there was a man there too, helping her to drag him to safety. But he saw only her, knowing that if he kept his eyes on her he would be safe. If she disappeared again…
‘Darling,’ she choked. ‘Hold me-I’ve got you.’
Cradled in her arms he murmured, ‘I thought you’d gone for ever.’
‘I’ll never go away again,’ she vowed.
‘As soon as we land I’m calling an ambulance,’ Ferdy shouted across to them.
‘No,’ Jarvis said at once. ‘No ambulance.’ He looked up at Meryl. ‘Just let me go home, with you.’
She nodded. She knew how much time must pass before they could be alone, but for now it was enough that they had found each other as never before.
She could be patient as they landed and hands reached out to help them ashore. Jarvis must be made dry and warm and put to bed. Ferdy must come in and be thanked and welcomed. But Ferdy soon told her, ‘Don’t worry about me. Just leave me the whisky and go to him.’
She gave him a brief kiss of gratitude and ran up to Jarvis’s room. He was lying in bed, pale and weak, his eyes fixed on the
door through which she must come. He held out his arms to her at once. She went into them and they held each other in a long silent affirmation of faith and love.
‘I’m not afraid to die,’ he said huskily at last, ‘but to die without telling you what you are to me-that would be unendurable.’
‘Hush, my love-my love. Forgive me.’
‘There’s nothing for me to forgive,’ he said passionately.
‘I accused you of pride, but my pride was worse. I loved you, but I sent you away because loving you was too hard. But for me you wouldn’t have been out in that boat. If you’d died-’
‘No.’ He put his fingers over her mouth. ‘We’ll never think of that again. You came to me out of the storm once, and tonight you did it again. This is our new beginning.’
He pointed to the wall at the end of his bed, and she saw that the picture of the dogs had gone. In its place was the portrait of Marguerite.’
‘I put her there because she reminded me of you, when I thought I’d lost you.’
‘You’ll never lose me. I’ve come home to stay. Keep me in your heart, Jarvis. It’s the only home I’ll ever want.’
Instead of answering with words he reached into his bedside drawer and took out the ring he’d given her, and which she’d returned in pride and bitterness. Jarvis slipped the diamond back into place. Then he pressed her hand to his lips.
‘Never remove it again,’ he whispered.
‘I never will.’
‘I’ve something else to show you.’
He reached into the drawer again, this time producing a flat box. Inside were the most fabulous pearls Meryl had ever seen. Slowly Jarvis lifted them so that they shone in the light, revealing that they were large, perfectly matched, and of a faint pinkish hue.
‘I’ve never seen anything so lovely,’ she breathed. Then a terrible thought came to her. ‘Jarvis, what are they worth?’
‘Enough,’ he said, understanding her at once. ‘Enough to pay off every debt I ever had, but that’s nothing. In New York you said rich men were ten a penny, and you were happier when I was poor and you could give to me. I don’t entirely understand that-when did I ever understand you? When will I ever? But say the word and I’ll toss them into the fire.’
‘You would do that for me?’ she asked in wonder.
‘I would do anything for you,’ he said. And she saw real intent in his eyes.
‘No,’ she put her hand on his quickly. ‘There’s a better way.’
He nodded. ‘That’s what I thought, too.’
Gently he draped the pearls around her neck.
‘Now they’re yours, and I’m a poor man again,’ he said contentedly. Then a change came over him and he took her face gently between his hands. ‘And yet I’ll never be poor. I didn’t know-I never understood-’
‘Nor did I. Not really. But now we have everything. There’s nothing else but this, nothing that matters.’
‘Hold me,’ he said suddenly. ‘I don’t feel safe without you.’
She lay down beside him on the bed, clasping him to her heart. ‘Do you feel safe now?’ she whispered.
‘Always, as long as I’m in your heart. You came just in time to save me.’
‘Yes, a few more minutes-’ She shuddered.
‘I don’t mean the sea. I mean what I would have turned into if you hadn’t come here that night.’
‘Or what I might have turned into,’ she said, trying to prevent his mood growing too dark. That too would be her task in years ahead. ‘When I arrived here I was almost as bad as you thought I was. You saved me, too.’
But he wouldn’t allow that. For his fierce, uncompromising nature there was no middle way. As he had been hard in his resistance, he would be firm in his love and fidelity. He’d seen her as an enemy. Now, in his eyes, she was perfect. And that was how it would always be.
Out of the storm, across the water,
Came one night a rich man’s daughter,
Heart undaunted and spirit bold,
To marry the lord and save his soul.
Lucy Gordon
***
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