Page 70 of My Summer of Magic Moments

‘Yesterday … but he’d have gone swimming this morning. There’s a pile of clothes on the beach. His dog’s going crazy.’

She began to think she sounded a little crazy herself. Did the guy on the end of the line think so too? Was that all the evidence she had of Ed going missing? Jeez, what if Ed had just popped to the dunes for a call of nature or something? Was about to come sauntering out as she had the HM Coastguard scrambling. But she knew in her gut something was wrong, just like Bess did.

And worse, a horrible creeping thought seized her mind. What if he’d wanted to go missing? To just vanish at sea. Let it all end.

She pulled herself together. ‘He would have gone swimming just after seven, I think. From the beach where I am now.’

‘Okay, keep this line open. We may need it to help locate your position on the beach. I’ll contact the lifeboat and rescue-helicopter service immediately.’

The line was open, but no one was talking. She stood fixed to the spot, not daring to move in case she lost signal. She scanned the tumult that was the sea. Still no sign. No arc of arm, dark length of body. It would be hard to tell in those waters anyhow. He was fit and healthy, she reminded herself. He knew that sea, swam every day he was here. He’d swum for county, he’d told her. In a swimming pool, you tit, she realized. Stay strong, Ed.

Bess appeared beside her, nuzzled her hand. She patted the dog’s head absent-mindedly. ‘Okay, girl.’ Claire was soaked to the skin now, her towelling robe heavy with rain, weighing her down. Stood there dripping in a dressing gown in the dunes. Her ear pressed to her mobile, just in case. And all they could do was wait.

31

Make the most of every day, every moment

Seconds hung like hours. Please God, please let him be okay. Whatever shitty life he’d had so far, he deserved his second chance, his future. He deserved some happiness. Her face was wet with rain and tears. Bess was beating a steady track to and from the beach, via his clothes.

Suddenly, there was something there bobbing in the waves. A dark torso shape. It didn’t look good, tossed about, directionless. Ah, shit, shit, no. Her world felt like it was falling apart. No. Should she run to it, forget about the mobile signal? But then she looked closer. Bess wasn’t bothered by it, and Claire realized she was focusing on a log that must have been swept out, then brought back in on the rough seas.

The weather was dismal. Heavy drops of rain were coming down on her now. He must have got into trouble, must still be out there. Maybe it had been fine early this morning, and it just came in all of a sudden. She’d seen herself how the rain clouds could gather on the horizon, then sheet forward in a solid mass. You could see it advancing over the sea, an inky-grey shimmering wall. What if he wasn’t strong enough to keep afloat? What if, right now, the sea was pulling him down – too cold, too tired to fight any more.

‘Ed!’ his name bolted from her lips, shouted across the dunes, across the sea.

And still the rain, the wind, whipping up the waves.

A loud burr of an engine, the mechanical chopping of rotor blades, startled her. Right over her flew a yellow helicopter, stirring up the sands, shooting grit into her eyes, lifting her hair from its roots. Thank God. At least they were here, they were looking.

She waved frantically. She needed to let them know they were had the right place.

And then a voice, tinny on her phone, hardly audible for the whirr of the helicopter. It sounded like the man she had last spoken with. ‘The air–sea helicopter has located you, Claire. There’s also a lifeboat launched. They are searching thoroughly. Please stay on the line. Okay?’

‘Yes. Yes, will do.’ Find him. Go find him.

‘And Claire, you’re doing great, just try and stay calm. They’re doing everything they can.’

‘Thank you.’ That line of communication warmed her for a second; the thread to humanity, compassion. Then it went quiet once more.

She watched the helicopter move out to sea, then turn to fly parallel with the coast, first north, then south, back towards her. She thought she could make out a boat coming into view from the right side of the bay. Bess was back near her side, fretful after the roar of the helicopter, the poor dog pacing in figures of eight.

Even if they did find him, what would they find?

She stopped herself thinking that way, just stood, watching, every nerve taut in her body.

There were two figures on the beach now below her, drawn no doubt by the drama of the search. Something newsworthy happening.

Time seemed to stand still as the helicopter circled, then went up and down again, parallel with the shoreline. Then it seemed to hover, and almost pause. Something had been thrown down, a line? Had they found something? Had they found him?

‘Miss Maxwell … Claire?’ The chap was shouting down the phone like he’d been trying before.

Something was happening out at sea. Someone coming out from the helicopter, on a winch or something.

‘Yes … yes.’

‘They’ve located him, madam.’

‘Is he okay?’