I rang the buzzer several times but Terry did not respond. Wondering if it was broken, I banged my fist against the door for a minute or so until, finally, I heard the slide of a lock and the door inched open.
“Hi, Terry,” I said, trying to keep my voice bright as I smiled at him. Because of the weather it came out more like a frozen grimace.
He returned my smile with a very genuine one of his own. “Little Gracie. Your parents mentioned you were watching the house. What can I do you for?”
I pointed in the direction of the ferry. “I’ve been working over in Millport all week and there’s no way I can get out of it today,” I began explaining, “but the ferry’s only running until two, so –”
“Do you need me to feed Tom?” he asked, predicting my request.
My shoulders relaxed. “Yes, please. He’s actually been on a wander for a few days so he might not even show up. But if you could keep an eye out for him it would be much appreciated!”
Terry’s smile widened. “Of course, Gracie. Now you get yourself on the ferry before the waves capsize it!”
With a nod and another round of thanks I all but sprinted towards the pier, gritting my teeth against the freezing rain as it pelted my face. It stung so much I thought it might have been hail. More than once a wave came crashing over the promenade, soaking through my leggings and boots immediately.
By the time I reached the Research Station I was drenched from head to toe, though my dad’s anorak took the worst of the damage. I wasn’t looking forward to an entire day of working in the lab looking and feeling half like a drowned rat, even after changing into dry clothes, but I got through it all by holding on to the thought that tonight I might finally, finally, talk to Lir again.
Yet after the working day was over and I’d had dinner with Professor Reynolds and the other teachers, all thoughts of talking to Lir vanished. I was desperate for a hot shower and literally nothing else.
“The en suite rooms were allocated already,” Professor Reynolds apologised when she opened the door to the twin room she’d had the Research Station staff prepare for me. “But the communal showers are just down the hall. They’re all cubicles, though, so they’re still private.”
I held up a lock of painfully tangled hair. “At this point I wouldn’t care if it was one huge shower used by ten people at a time. I just need hot water.”
With a chuckle Professor Reynolds left me to my own devices, so I quickly dumped my bag on one of the beds and hung my dad’s jacket on the back of a chair. I’d been to the Research Station before – back in the third year of my undergraduate for an overnight trip with my degree group – and the room I was in now was exactly as I remembered the one I’d been in then with Louisa.
It didn’t matter that the mattress on the bed was thin and probably uncomfortable, or that the only furnishings were the two beds, the chair, a wall-mounted mirror, a wobbly desk and an equally unstable-looking wardrobe. I was only here for the night, after all, and if one night of bad sleep was the price I had to pay to talk to Lir then I would gladly pay it.
If I had the capacity to talk to another human being after a shower instead of falling dead asleep, of course.
I knew from my time here before that the communal showers didn’t have space anywhere to change, so I stripped out of my clothes, wrapped myself in a towel and grabbed my toiletry bag and the box of hair dye. To be honest I couldn’t be bothered with something as cumbersome as dyeing my hair right now, but if I didn’t do it now I knew I never would. I was colouring it like the sea to catch Lir’s attention, after all. It was pointless if I didn’t dye it now.
The corridor was blessedly empty on my way to the showers, since almost everyone was either hanging out in their own rooms or socialising downstairs. Nobody was even having a shower – another stroke of luck on my part. The third stroke of luck came in the form of a beautifully high-pressured, burn-your-skin-off-hot shower, which was exactly what I needed.
I spent far too long simply standing beneath the torrent of hot water, thinking that I could quite easily fall asleep where I stood. But then I shook away the fatigue, forced myself to shampoo my hair and then lathered the bleached underside of it with turquoise dye. It was fiddly business, trying to keep it out of my natural hair colour, but this wasn’t my first dye-at-home rodeo.
The most boring part was having to stay out of the water for twenty minutes whilst the dye worked its magic, so I kept the shower running to languish in the steam and leaned against the cubicle door to keep my hair well away from the water.
“I’m as well shaving my legs,” I murmured, taking out my razor and softly singing along to some song playing in my head as I did so. It might have been from Hamilton; I’d found a bootleg recording of the Broadway production online the week before.
By the time it came to wash out the dye somebody else had turned on the shower in the cubicle directly on my left, so I stopped singing and finished up as quickly as possible. I tied my hair up into a dripping wet, messy-as-hell bun, figuring I’d just dry it as soon as I got back to my room, then wrapped my towel around me and left the cubicle to check I hadn’t accidentally dyed my neck in the fogged-up mirror. Pleased that I hadn’t, I gave my toiletry bag a once-over to make sure I’d actually brought everything I needed with me, since I hadn’t checked it before I left that morning.
I’d forgotten my contact lens solution.
“You idiot!” I cried at my steamy reflection. I’d brought the damn case for my lenses but no solution; if none of the students had any then I’d have to make up some salt water for them and I hated doing that. I always got the salt concentration wrong, and when I put my lenses back in they stung my eyes until they were streaming.
Without thinking, I left the shower room and made a beeline straight downstairs to the social area, intending to make a blanket request for saline solution from any students down there. It was only after I opened the door and was met by no fewer than four wolf whistles that I remembered I was wearing a damn towel and nothing else.
“Well this has just made my day!” David called out, laughing as my face grew as red-hot as the fire he was relaxed in front of. I couldn’t believe what I’d so foolishly done. These were my students. Sure, most of them were only four years younger than me – and some, like David, were the same age or older than me – but having them see me half-naked was mortifying. It was more embarrassing than getting wasted in front of them, I imagined.
“I – uh – forgot my contact lens solution,” I said, forcing out a self-conscious chuckle to show that I, too, found the situation funny. “Does anyone have some?”
“Oh, I do,” David replied, just as two other students raised their hand in response to the question. “Want me to grab it for you now?”
“If you could, thanks.”
David got up from his seat – which was swiftly stolen by Lir’s lab partner, Max – winking at me as he passed me by and left the social area. I only grew more flustered and uncomfortable standing there waiting for him, so I turned to wait in the corridor instead and –
Walked straight into Lir.
Similarly dressed in a towel and nothing else.
“I thought it was you singing in the shower,” he said, though I wasn’t paying attention to what his gentle, lilting voice was actually saying. This was only the second time he’d ever spoken to me after that one late, late evening in the library weeks ago. “Say No to This from Hamilton, right?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing with. Lir’s towel was slung around his hips, so un-self-consciously bare-chested that I had no choice but to stare at the lines of his body, from his collarbone all the way down to his obliques. Memories of the time we’d both been in the steam room at the gym – Lir’s grey eyes watching me watching him through the haze – filled my brain. I knew I had to look away. I knew I was being inappropriate.
There was not a single part of me that wanted to look away.
“What were the two of yo
u getting up to in the shower, eh?” Max called from behind me, bringing me starkly back to life.
I let out a nervous laugh and bowed my head, not daring to look directly at Lir’s face after I’d so unashamedly ogled him. “Being overheard singing, clearly,” I replied, making to bypass Lir and attempt a swift escape.
But then David reappeared in the doorway and I was boxed in by Lir’s left-hand side. I could feel droplets of water sliding down his arm against my skin; every hair on my body and his was stood on end. I knew, instinctively, that he was looking at me.
Don’t look at him don’t look at him don’t look at him.
“The sacred solution,” David said, handing me over a contact lens case filled with the stuff. It had googly eyes stuck on the lid, which looked at me as if they were aware of the filthy thoughts that were currently circling inside my head. “Aliquoted by yours truly. You can keep the case; it’s my spare.”
“Uh, thanks,” I mumbled, grabbing the case from David and all but pushing him aside to flee the social area. I could hear everyone laughing at me, no doubt highly amused by my extreme embarrassment. They were good students, though, so I knew they wouldn’t be cruel about it when they doubtlessly made fun of me for it at the pub tomorrow.
But still.
When I reached my room I collapsed on top of the lumpy, uncomfortable bed that I’d get no sleep in for the night, burying my head in the pillow and willing the sea to swallow me up.
So much for turquoise hair and having the confidence to actually talk to Lir.
I couldn’t even look him in the eye.
Chapter Nine
The morning lab passed by in blessed, uneventful quiet. I was beyond shattered thanks to the – as predicted – horrifically uncomfortable bed I’d tried and failed to get any sleep in, though once the lab finished and I fell onto its lumpy surface once more it felt as luxurious as the memory foam mattress I had at my parents’ house. Everybody was currently eating lunch and getting ready for the pub; I figured an hour-long nap couldn’t hurt.
“Just for a little while,” I said, readjusting the pins in my hair so it wouldn’t get messed up when I lay on it. I’d curled my hair very early that morning when it became apparent I wasn’t going to get any sleep, then carefully spun it into a bun to keep the curls from falling out before the afternoon…and so none of the turquoise was visible.
I wasn’t ashamed that I’d dyed it – I was well past that – but I simply couldn’t be bothered dealing with people commenting on my hair whilst I was working on very little sleep.
I’d be happy and social after a nap. I knew it. I just had to close my eyes for forty minutes. An hour, tops.
It ended up being just over three.
“You fuckwit,” I cursed, rubbing my forehead as I groggily emerged from unconsciousness. I threw my phone to the floor after I checked the time (David had messaged me: don’t you dare be asleep). It was already five in the evening; most of the students and teachers would have been in the pub for two hours already. “You stupid, stupid girl.”
So much for feeling better after a nap. Though, admittedly, I did feel decidedly more alert now that I was fully awake, I had no time to waste. For all I knew Lir was a lightweight and had already passed out drunk. I surprised myself when a giggle escaped my lips at the thought, for it seemed so unlikely as to be impossible.
“Stop thinking of Lir and get ready,” I scolded my reflection, wrenching off the jumper and leggings I’d been napping in as I spoke. Given that I had negative time to get ready I chose the first matching outfit I pulled out of my bag: turquoise camisole, high-waisted black miniskirt with silver buttons, black tights and black boots with silver heels.
My underwear – not that I thought in a million years it would ever matter what it looked like – was all barely-there blue lace. A gift from Louisa before she left for Australia, with the threat that I had better use it whilst she was gone. It was by far and away the sexiest underwear I owned and, up to this point, had seen no action whatsoever. If ever there was a time to wear it, today was it.
“Guess I really am playing up the whole ‘sea’ thing,” I muttered, drawing black eyeliner along my lash line before blending silver eyeshadow into blue and green across the lid. The colour palette matched my eyes as well as my hair, top and lingerie, though I’d always considered my eyes to be more of a forest green colour. Now, though, with all the eyeshadow, they could almost pass for seafoam.
It had been a while since I’d cared so much about my outfit and make-up. Since before Louisa left, probably. It felt good to concern myself with something so…normal. Even if it was all for a boy. Well, I guess wanting to look good for the person you like is pretty normal, too, though liking Lir felt anything but normal.
Finally, I pulled out the pins from my hair and ran my fingers through it until it was loose and bouncy down my back, adding a pair of silver hoop earrings for good measure. I whistled at my reflection in the mirror, turning on the spot to check myself out with a pout firmly on my lips. I looked good; I wasn’t afraid to admit it. But it didn’t matter what I thought about how I looked. What mattered was what Lir thought.
Glancing through the window I saw that though it wasn't raining there were still dark, gloomy clouds obscuring the sky. The storm had dissipated as promised by Joe on the radio, but I didn’t trust that it wasn’t windy along the promenade towards the pub. This was the west coast, after all. It was always windy.
So I slid into my big, fluffy jacket, tucking my hair beneath the collar and buttoning the thing all the way up to my neck. It covered my entire outfit and made me look like a black sheep on spindly legs but I didn’t care. It was imperative that my hair was still pretty and my outfit remained dry by the time I reached the pub. Then I further covered my outfit with my dad's anorak and bundled my bag into my arms, since I had to take all my stuff with me so I could catch the last ferry later that evening.
I was not surprised to find the rest of the Research Station abandoned as I made my way outside: even the teachers had been looking forward to some well-earned downtime after a week of educating nursery school children disguised as twenty-year-olds. It made me wish I’d brought some vodka or wine or something to drink on the way to the pub to keep me company, though the journey wasn't all that long.
When I opened the door and let the cold evening air hit my face my heart started racing. Something was going to happen tonight. I could feel it in my bones. The only problem was, I didn’t know what.
I could only hope that it would be a good thing.
By the time I reached the pub I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I didn’t think I’d ever been so nervous before in all my life, which only made me feel stupider than ever. Get a grip, I thought, over and over again. You’re just drinking with your students and colleagues. So what if you can’t stop thinking about one of those students? Nobody else knows that.
There wasn’t a single person standing outside the pub smoking or fighting or talking on the phone, so I spent a while lingering on the pavement with my eyes closed against the chilly sea air. I blew a low whistle through my teeth to centre myself, knowing I was wasting precious time. One second passed. Two. Three.
When I finally found the courage to open the door I was blasted by a wave of hot, sticky air. It was full of the scent of spilled beer, sweat and the ever-lingering stale bitterness of cigarettes from years long past. It didn’t matter that over a decade had been and gone since smoking was banned indoors in Scotland: small-town pubs would never be rid of the smell. There was something heart-warming about that, though. Something permanent and ever-lasting, though in truth my nose wrinkled at the acrid stench.
“There you are, Grace!”
I spotted David standing by the bar immediately. I smiled at him, then waved to Professor Reynolds and two of the other teachers who were sitting in the corner. Going by their ruddy cheeks and the eight empty pint glasses on the table in front of them I could only conclude that they were well pas
t tipsy.
Sheepishly I approached David and dropped my bag to my feet just as he handed me one of the two drinks he was nursing. “Sorry I fell asleep for so long,” I said. I indicated towards the glass he’d given me. “What’s in this?”
“Vodka lemonade. Figured it was a safe bet. I’m more of a vodka orange person, myself.”
“To be honest anything but beer is a safe bet,” I replied, swallowing the contents of the glass in a matter of seconds. A satisfied sigh escaped my lips when the vodka began to burn my throat. “Right, next one’s on me. What’s your poison?”
David stared at me in disbelief. “I didn’t have you down as a big drinker, if I’m honest.”
“Then you don’t know me very well,” I laughed. “So what’ll it be?”
He picked up his glass, which was still half-full. “I’m sorted for now. Were you really asleep for three hours? The beds in the hostel are hell on my back.”
“Oh god, yes,” I said. “I needed it. Did I mention before that my cat was yowling non-stop and keeping me up all night?” David nodded. “Well, three days ago he decided to disappear so now his silence is keeping me up, instead. Which meant I could have slept on concrete this afternoon, I was so tired.”
A frown of genuine concern shadowed David’s eyes. “I hope he shows up soon. Does he disappear like this often?”
“Maybe for a day at a time back when I still lived in Largs,” I replied, ordering a gin and tonic when the barmaid asked me what I wanted. “I have no idea what his habits are now, though. When my parents get back from holiday I’ll ask them. But enough about my cat…where is everyone?” It was only in asking the question that I realised almost every student I’d come to know from the marine and freshwater biology degree group was missing.
“Oh, they’re in the karaoke bar in the next room over,” David said, indicating towards a door at the back of the bar with a thumb. “I figured I’d wait for you in here so the teachers didn’t steal you away to complain about how terrible we’ve all been this week.”
The Boy from the Sea Page 6