The Mermaid Garden(50)

“How old were you when she became your stepmother?”

“Three—and I believed she came to steal my father away.”

Rafa descended the little staircase and stood before her. His expression was so full of compassion she felt a gentle tug somewhere in the middle of her chest. She hadn’t meant to disclose so much about herself.

“I understand,” he said, and touched her arm. The way that he touched her and the dark shadow that made his face look so serious convinced her that he did, indeed, understand.

“Thank you,” was all she could think of to say.

He smiled gently. “Come, let us go back out into the sunshine. Is there a beach below? I’d love to see the sea.”

He put his hand in the small of her back and led her past the altar to the narrow stone staircase by which they had entered. The church was her secret place and she was his tour guide, and yet, in that brief moment, she felt as if he was looking after her. She basked in the new sensation, feeling feminine in a way she had never felt before. Why she had opened up to a total stranger, she didn’t know. Perhaps because he was a stranger with no preconceptions about her or her family. Or perhaps because there was something intimate in his soft brown eyes that drew her out of herself and won her trust.

They emerged into the sunshine like a pair of vampires, blinking in the glare. The buttercups shone brightly like small sparks of fire, and the air smelled thick with life after the stale smell of decay inside the church. They inhaled with satisfaction and let the warm sun caress their faces. Below, the sea was calm, lapping the rocks in a lazy rhythm as if its mind were lost in daydreams. They walked down to the beach. Once there had been a path, but now it was overgrown with ferns and brambles. Clementine was relieved she had worn jeans as the thorns tore the material instead of her flesh.

They laughed and chatted all the way down. Rafa helped her untangle herself once or twice when the brambles became too greedy and wrapped their thorny tentacles around her ankles.

“All this for a beach,” he exclaimed, setting her free.

“But it’s not just any beach. It’s really lovely.”

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here for a long time.”

“They haven’t—I haven’t. I saw it from the boat, but I’ve never attempted to reach it by foot.”

“Then we shall make a path so we can come here whenever we like and not get eaten by plants.”

The thought of coming here often with Rafa caused her spirits to rise even higher. They had the whole summer ahead, and she would enjoy showing him every corner of Devon.

Finally, the path opened onto a sandy bank that expanded into a secluded yellow beach. It had looked beautiful from the sea, but now she was there, Clementine saw to her delight that it was even lovelier than she had imagined. The fact that neither Marina nor her father had claimed it for themselves gave her a heightened sense of joy. This would be her beach, beneath her church, and she wouldn’t share it with anyone but Rafa.

“You won’t tell the others about our find, will you? We don’t want the whole county joining us here.”

He put his hands on his hips and gazed out across the ocean. “I won’t tell anyone. It’s spectacular.” He breathed deeply, flaring his nostrils. “I’m finally here,” he added, and the way he said it made Clementine suspect he was talking to himself.

They walked down to the sea. Rafa took off his shoes and rolled up his jeans. Inspired by his enthusiasm, she did the same. The water was cold, but he insisted they walk the entire length of the cove. Small waves rolled in, each wrapping their ankles in white foam before retreating to make way for the next. Rafa’s denim grew dark where it was wet until finally he was soaked up to his knees. He laughed it off with a genial shrug.

“If I had swimming shorts, I’d dive in.”

“Let’s do that,” she suggested. He looked at her in surprise. “Let’s dive into the sea.”

“If you do, I will, too.”

She giggled nervously. “Okay.” With her heart beating wildly she ran a little up the beach and wriggled out of her jeans and shirt, standing before him in only her T-shirt and pink floral knickers.

He threw his head back and laughed at her daring. “Qué coraje, nena!” “I hope that’s a compliment.”

“It is. You have courage!”

“Well, don’t leave me standing here like this. Come on!”

He joined her on dry sand and gamely stepped out of his jeans, jacket, and shirt, tossing them beside hers. “You ready?”

She barely had time to admire his athletic body, clothed in nothing but a pair of Calvin Klein undershorts, before he was running into the water making loud huffing noises at the cold. She followed him happily, marveling at the incredible twist of Fate that had brought them together in this extraordinary way.