Page 78 of Not Just for Christmas

I gave him a quick fuss, but my gaze was riveted to Dylan and Sam and an oncoming wave. My stomach twisted with worry. I hadn’t seen Jack’s accident. But my imagination had done such a good job of filling in the gaps that I felt as if I had. Watching them now felt like déjà vu.

‘Mummy! Look!’ Sam shook off Dylan’s hand and jumped as high as he could into the wall of water, flinging his arms high above his head. The wave hit his chest and he stumbled backwards.

Then he was gone.

Time stood still. I kept my eyes trained on the white surf, willing him to reappear. I saw flashes of him – a foot, then a hand – before the wave dragged him under again. He’d be swallowing water, unable to breathe, drowning.

I waded in, yelling his name.

Dylan dived under the surface and for a second I lost both of them. Then he emerged, hauling Sam up in his arms.

‘Mum!’ Sam coughed and spluttered. ‘Did you see that! It was so fun.’

Fun? Fun? My hands flew to my head, fear and fury choking me so that I couldn’t speak.

‘Good job, kiddo!’ Dylan threw him up in the air and caught him again.

‘Get out of the water,’ I screamed at them. ‘Just get out now.’

‘Hey.’ Dylan strode through the sea towards me, holding Sam under his arm like a surfboard and making him giggle. ‘It’s all good, I got him. He’s fine, look.’

He set him down; I held out my arms and Sam came splashing towards me.

‘We were jumping over waves to try out Uncle Dylan’s new wetsuit!’ Sam shouted, his teeth chattering, his lips blue.

The sparkle in his eyes was the same look his father used to get when he’d caught the perfect wave.

‘I feel so alive,’ Jack would say, ‘there’s nothing in the world like it.’

Alive one minute. Dead the next. And I would never ever get over that. I was shaking now, from grief, shock and intense cold as the water seeped higher and higher up my trousers.

‘I think my wetsuit is fully road-tested now,’ said Dylan, sweeping water off his face.

I held out my hand to Sam. ‘Come on, let’s get you warm.’

I staggered from the water, holding on to him for dear life. Caroline was waiting for us on the sand, out of breath from running.

‘You see,’ she panted, holding out a towel to wrap Sam in. ‘I told you. Nothing to worry about.’

‘He went under,’ I retorted angrily, peeling off my wet boots. ‘He might have drowned! Plus, he’s freezing to death.’

I stumbled in the sand. Dylan reached out to steady me, but I pushed him off.

‘Lucy. Chill.’ He held up his hands. ‘We’ve only been in the water for a couple of minutes, max.’

‘Hyperthermia can set in in five minutes,’ I snapped back.

‘Uncle Dylan says I’m fearless,’ Sam said, his little face poking out from the towel while Caroline peeled off his wetsuit and pushed his head through his jumper.

‘Yup.’ Dylan scooped up a second towel, pulled off his hat and rubbed his face and hair dry. ‘You’re as brave as your daddy.’

‘And you think being fearless is a good thing? Huh?’ I launched myself at Dylan, thumping his chest with hammering fists. Gus bounced up and down, thinking it was a game until Caroline grabbed him and put him on his lead.

‘Whoah!’ Dylan caught my hands in his, held them tight, his eyes clouded with shock. ‘What’s going on here, Lucy? Sam wanted to come to the beach, and I brought him, what’s the big deal?’

‘Honestly?’ I yelled at him. ‘You really need to ask?’

‘Mummy!’ Sam cried. ‘Don’t hurt Uncle Dylan!’