The Wave

by Virginia Moffatt

  Instagram

  ONE HOUR AGO

  LisaLuskOfficial I’m heartbroken. He’s on that beach, and there’s nothing I can do. Thanks for being with me on the longest night of my life. Can’t bear to wait for the next part. Going to bed.

  Image of couple by rocks.

  StevenSmith5 Found this on Facebook. That’s him, isn’t it?

  AllieSimpson4 OMG he’s been cheating on you tonight?

  StevenSmith5 It’s not right.

  Jenny5001 Let him know what you think folks. He can’t treat Lisa like this.

  5.45 a.m.

  News ‘n Truth

  The website that never lies

  Image: Couple cuddling on a beach.

  Seems like Margaret Anderson is not the only one at Dowetha Beach who’s got some explaining to do. As pop star Lisa Lusk has kept an Instagram vigil for her boyfriend James, he has been consoling himself with a new friend. We’ll say this for you James, you’ve certainly got a way with women….

  Facebook Messenger

  Seren Lovelace to Andy Jones

  5.45 a.m.

  Thanks for the chat last night. I did what you said and wrote it all down. I thought about making it public, letting the world know who she is, what she did. But then I saw footage of the volcano and thought … Poor Penny. Whatever she’s done, she doesn’t deserve this.

  Andy Jones to Seren Lovelace

  5.51 a.m.

  You’re a better person than I am! Still, I know what you mean. Those poor people. So many of them still stuck on the roads. How awful for them. And their families.

  Facebook

  Dowetha Live

  6 August 6.00 a.m.

  Due to unpleasant comments about two members of our group, we have disabled comments on this page.

  Facebook

  Poppy Armstrong

  6 August 6.05 a.m.

  After my last post I did manage to grab some sleep. I didn’t think I would, and my dreams were troubled, but at least I’m a bit more rested. Hangover, sort of, rested but better than a few hours ago. I’m studiously avoiding pictures of the eruption and collapsing volcano, but I can’t miss the news which is as bad as I feared it would be. The earliest escapees are reaching safety, giving breathless interviews about the panic and chaos they have left behind. In their wake they have left gridlock. Many have abandoned their cars, in the vain hope that their feet can transport them where their vehicles could not. Those at the head of the traffic, who are within a few miles probably have a chance, but the majority are too far away. And yet they are marching like so many tiny ants, their eyes fixed on their destination, still hoping to outrun their fate. My friends are not with them. Alice texted half an hour ago, to say they have left the road and found a pretty spot where they will sit it out like we are doing. I was doubting a few hours ago whether I had made the right choice, but it seems as if I have. Or at least, made the best out of bad choices.

  And, I have had a response from my ex. She’s asked me lots of questions, and I am going to attempt to answer them. I’ll send and then wait, hoping she will get back in touch soon.

  In two hours, there will be no waiting ever again.

  PRIME

  Poppy

  I wake sometime before six. I still feel tired, but sleep is impossible. I emerge from the tent to see Yan walking down the beach to Shelley who is sitting by the water’s edge. Above me the sky is getting lighter, the air is warm, and the wind has died down. It is going to be a glorious day. I walk up to the car and check the news websites. I avoid looking at pictures of the volcano, but the pictures of the evacuation are everywhere., Thousands of cars are fleeing coastlines from Morocco to the Congo Republic, Mexico to Brazil, the Eastern Seaboard in the US, and in the UK all the way from here to the top of Kent and Wales. There are stories of problems of evacuating vulnerable people everywhere, but the worst traffic is in Cornwall. Cars are still crammed on the roads from Exeter down to Truro. No one south of Dartmoor has a chance, and even those who reach the moors will be at risk of flash floods from over-full rivers. All night I have been questioning whether I did the right thing coming here, but seeing these pictures, I’m thankful we stayed. There’s no way we could have escaped, and at least the last few hours have meant something, as I hoped they would.

  I open Facebook to see I have a message from Seren; I can’t quite face reading it yet. Instead, I check the Dowetha page. More vile people. What is wrong with them? Now they are after James and Nikki too; the racism and misogyny is depressing. I suspend comments, delete the worst remarks and steel myself to read Seren’s letter.

  Dear Penny,

  It is odd to be called Penny again. After so many years being Poppy, I’d almost convinced myself Penny no longer existed.

  Thank you for your message. I was not sure last night when I received it, whether I should reply. For so many years, I have wondered what I would say to you if you ever got in touch. I have thought often about writing to ask for an explanation of why you did what you did. Several times I started a letter, or an email, but I never finished it. Because, in the end, what was the point? What could you say that could make it possible for me to understand? Possible for me to forgive? You abused my trust, and that of all our friends. The fact that you never reported on me was beside the point. All those times people came to the house, all the times we were at parties, the pub, or just hanging out, you were watching, listening, and noting any tiny thing that could be of use against us. All the while saying you loved me and wanted to build a future with me. How could any of that possibly be true?

  I put the phone down, blasted by her fury. I can’t disagree with this, yet I want to make excuses. I had good reason, I didn’t mean it, I wish I could have done it differently … But I didn’t, which means I have to face this now.

  And now, you are about to die. Suddenly the conscience that has lain dormant all these years has been stirred. When you wrote to me last night, my first instinct was bully for you. Too little, and way too late. You are in a shitty situation and I’m very sorry about that, but you can’t possibly expect my sympathy now.

  My eyes prick with tears, but seriously what did I expect?

  Last night, I was so angry I had no intent of giving you the satisfaction of a peaceful death. To get in touch after all that time and lay that guilt on me? Made me think you’re still the same selfish cow who betrayed me. However, this morning I changed my mind. I slept badly. I don’t suppose you got much sleep either. I kept checking my phone and seeing pictures of people fleeing the disaster zones, the images of the volcano falling and the wave that is coming for you. Yesterday, like everyone else, I watched the panic, the fear, feeling that detached horror you get from seeing disasters you can do nothing about. I cared, of course I did. But to be honest, I was relieved I wasn’t anywhere near. Realising you were there changed all that. And your message connects me, even if I don’t want it to. I cannot ignore that.

  So I went to your Facebook page. I have to admit, it’s a good thing you are doing. I admire your courage in the face of what is coming. I admire the fact you have brought people together. From your posts, it seems you are worrying about what you did. Maybe it’s for effect, to make us sympathize – you of all people know how to lie more than most – but maybe, just maybe it’s genuine. It occurred to me I have the power to refuse to respond to you, or to communicate. I could have chosen cruelty. I could have left you lingering in your last hours, but I have opted not to. I just have one question left, really: Why did you do it Penny? What was in it for you? Tell me that and we’re done. Seren.

  Seren is more generous than I deserve, but then she always was. That was part of the attraction. Part of what I miss about her. I owe the truth before it is too late. I begin with the devastation of my parents’ death, how my money troubles led me to work for Alisdair. When I moved to London, I thought that was behind me, particularly when I met Seren. It was when I started a Masters in Economics at King’s that he found me again. He offered me t
he same deal as before – keep an eye on that student, report what that lecturer said. I knew Seren wouldn’t approve, but I didn’t have her income, and London was expensive. It was easy money, and it was just work. Besides, unlike Seren, I thought the war on terror was a good thing, and wasn’t doing this helping keep us all safe?

  I pause, gazing across sea. There is a blush of pink on the water, reflected from the sky above me. It is quite beautiful. I wish … I wish … I wish …

  I wish that what happened next never happened and that when it did, I had said no. But when Alisdair wanted information on Seren’s friends, Amy and Jake, I was tempted. It wasn’t only that rent and tuition fees were due and he promised he’d pay double. It was also the fact I always felt they looked down on me, thinking I wasn’t good enough for Seren. I’m not proud of it that part of the reason I accepted was because I was wanted to pay them back for sneering at me. And so, when Marcus said they were violent animal rights activists, I was happy to believe that was true, justifying my behaviour because I never reported on Seren, and because I’d stop people being hurt. Justifications which fell apart the day she found out.

  I end by saying I don’t expect her to understand, but I want her to know I’m sorry. I think of leaving a kiss but I know it’s too much. I send it before I can admit the worst thing. The thing I don’t ever want her to know. The thing I can barely admit to myself. I don’t want to even think about that now. I put my phone away to see Shelley disappearing into the clubhouse, as Yan walks towards the cliff path; he is on the phone so I don’t disturb him. Now I’ve heard from Seren, I have nothing left to worry about. The sky is burning red and gold, anticipating the sun that cannot be far away, and realise if I hurry I can squeeze in one more swim. I run back to my tent. To my delight, when I emerge I find Margaret has the same idea. We rush down to the water together and dive between the waves. The sea is bracingly cold, but once I get used to it, refreshing. We swim up and down, splashing each other as the sun rises above the cliffs, until the cold drives us back to the tents to change. Yan is cooking breakfast, just like yesterday he is very good at taking care of us. I smile at him before going to find a quiet spot to see if Seren has replied. She has, though as I read, I wish she hadn’t.

  Dear Penny,

  I refuse to call you by any other name. Thank you for your message. Congratulations on your shiny new life. Glad to hear you have made peace with your past. Bully for you. You may have moved on from this, but I haven’t. You lied to me, you spied on my friends, and then walked away from the wreckage. And now you come with this pathetic bullshit. Poor little Penny, the orphan with no money whose rich girlfriend’s friends were mean to her. Loads of people get into debt at uni, loads of people struggle with the rent, loads of people hate their lover’s friends. They don’t fucking spy on them.

  You say you are sorry, but this is the sinner repenting on their death bed. What is such repentance worth?

  I pause, tears streaming down my cheeks. What else could I have expected? What else did I deserve? A gull swoops over my head, diving down towards the sea. The sun is high in the sky now, a reminder of how quickly time is passing. I force myself to continue reading.

  What is that repentance worth? A couple of years ago, I would have said nothing. But, today, I find myself unable to be quite so harsh. Today, I find that despite the fury and bitterness I still feel towards you, there are some remnants of affection left. Not enough for mercy, not yet anyway, but enough to say this.

  Penny. You still don’t seem to understand the harm you did. Your betrayal will haunt me for the rest of my life, making it hard for me to trust people, particularly lovers. When you left, I lost friends who couldn’t believe I wasn’t helping you. I lost the flat because I couldn’t afford the rent alone. I became depressed and took months to recover. You have no right to my forgiveness, or even to ask for it. I am not done with being angry with you, even if my anger looks like it will be reserved for a ghost.

  Even though I can’t forgive you, I can at least wish your last few hours are peaceful. I find myself thinking it is unbearable that you are going to die like this, and no matter how angry I have been, no matter how angry I still am, I wouldn’t wish this on you, none of it.

  No mercy, then. But, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry for what you are going through. I salute your courage, and I am glad you have people with you to comfort you. Maybe one day forgiveness might be possible, but in the meantime, I will be thinking of you. I hope the end comes quick and that you feel loved, not by me, but by others. I want you to know that the love we once had was a splendid thing. One day, I hope, that is what I will remember when I think of you, Seren

  Another seagull sweeps overhead, or perhaps it is the same one returning from the beach. It was clearly too much to ask her for forgiveness, and most of me can’t blame her. I just wish it didn’t leave me feeling this desolate. I reply that I am sorry, because I truly am and then I have to acknowledge that that’s it, there is nothing more we can say to each other. Time for me to move on.

  An inviting smell of bacon welcomes me back to the campfire. I take some food, and my place at the fireside, joining in the conversation. I have experienced so much loss in my life, some of it self induced, but here, at the end, as I look around my new friends, I can see that in the last twenty-four hours, I have gained something too. It’s a small comfort, but right now I’m glad to cling to it.

  Yan

  I fully intended to go back to bed, but once I lay looking at the stars I was too entranced to move. I stared for hours at the little beams of light travelling across the galaxy from tiny suns that died centuries ago. Which, when I think about it, put my situation into perspective. My lifespan is miniscule compared to the length of time the light of a star lasts. What does it matter if I die today or in forty years?

  It is only as the sky is beginning to lighten, and the stars to fade, that I sit up. I am stiff and cold; it is time to go back to the beach. The march back warms me up and when I reach the beach, despite my lack of sleep, I am filled with energy. I walk down to the shore where I find Shelley at the water’s edge She, too, has been struggling to sleep, wrestling with her decisions, wondering if she should have gone with Harry. Although I don’t tell her that I think he’s an arsehole, I do let her know that he’s exposed Margaret, and am secretly pleased by her reaction. The Shelley of last night has completely disappeared. I much prefer this newer version. And then I am overwhelmed by the realisation that this could have been a brilliant friendship but it is over before we start. We hug, and weep until, at last, she breaks away.

  The sun will soon be here; the cliffs are glowing gold and red in anticipation. It is so beautiful here, though as Shelley says, it won’t be later. It is typical of the new, improved Shelley, that she comes up with the idea of recording a song to help fund the clean-up efforts. I don’t need persuading to help her. She grabs James’s guitar from the tent, and I take my iPad as we make our way up to the cliffs. It is nearly six. Mum will be up by now. I can’t put off this call any longer, so while Shelley is getting herself spruced up, I ring her.

  ‘Yan,’ she says. ‘What are you doing up so early? When are you coming to see me?’

  ‘Mum … have you heard the news?’

  ‘The news is I’m old, and my son never comes to visit.’

  ‘About the volcano.’

  ‘Volcano? Why are you talking about a volcano?’

  ‘It erupted Mum and now it has collapsed in the sea, and …’ I take a deep breath, ‘It’s created a wave that is coming towards Cornwall.’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘The thing is … I can’t get away.’

  ‘Father Piotr is coming to see me later. For coffee.’

  ‘Mum, did you understand what I said?’

  ‘He is having such trouble with his housekeeper. I said to him, “Father Piotr, loyalty is important, of course it is. We all know the Lord rewards good, loyal servants. But when you cannot get a decent meal cooked
on time, and your toilet is not clean, the Lord will forgive you taking the necessary action.” ’

  ‘Mum.’ This is no good, she has always had this tendency to run on and on with her latest obsession and not listen to a word I say.

  ‘Poor man. He isn’t getting any younger, and every night his supper is cold and he sits in his study coughing the dust. It isn’t right.’ She could go on like his for ever. Shelley has come out of the clubhouse and is waiting for me to finish. I lose the thread of Mum’s words, a tsunami of ill will and harsh judgement. I was wrong to call her; she will never change, not even when I am dying. Above me the sky is lighter now and a sliver of red is apparent above the horizon.

  Mum is still talking, ‘No wonder her daughter left her!’ She takes a breath and I seize the opportunity. ‘Did you hear what I said about the volcano?’

  ‘So what? Rocks fall into the sea all the time.’

  ‘It’s the wave, Mum, I can’t get away from the wave. I’m going to die.’

  This time, I get through to her. ‘Have you said your prayers?’ Her voice is shaking.

  ‘I don’t pray any more, Mum, you know that.’

  ‘I will say them for you.’ She seems to gain some strength from this thought. ‘I will go to church now. Father Piotr and I will light candles. I will pray for you.’

  There is clearly nothing else to be said. ‘Goodbye, Mum.’

  ‘I will pray for you.’

  I hang up as Shelley arrives. She smiles at me. And we begin to film. It takes a few attempts, but the final version is just brilliant, particularly as it captures the rising sun in the background. It is quite a sight. A slender red arc, that becomes a semi-circle, and finally a whole fiery globe. I’m glad I caught it on film, that Shelley’s voice will be a legacy of our time here. I hand her the iPad so she can send it to her family and return to the camp to make breakfast.