The Mermaid Garden(51)
They frolicked about, laughing and splashing each other. Once they got used to the water it ceased to feel so cold. They swam out a little so that the waves lifted them up and down like buoys.
“You’re very brave,” he said admiringly.
“Only because you put the idea into my head.”
“But you didn’t hesitate. You thought nothing of leaping into the water.”
“Well, what can I say? That’s just the sort of girl I am.” She grinned at him playfully.
“I like that sort of girl.”
“We haven’t got any towels but it’s sunny. We can dry on the beach. I bet you’ve never been in such a cold sea.”
“There you are wrong. The sea in Chile is much colder than this. It’s impossible to stay in for very long—that is, if you’re willing to go in at all.”
“I’d like to see South America.”
“Marina said you are planning on going back to India.”
“I love India, but it doesn’t have to be India. I just want to get away from here.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know what I want to do. I’m afraid of starting the rest of my life. If I travel, I can avoid it.”
“Traveling is life.”
“But it’s not responsibility. I’m supposed to be starting a career and becoming ‘grown up.’ The trouble is, I don’t want to.”
“Then you mustn’t.”
“That’s not what my father says.”
“You have to do what you want to do. If traveling is what you love, then you should see the world. I don’t think it is so important to conform to other people’s expectations. It’s your life, after all, and you don’t know how long you’ve got to enjoy it.”
“Now, that’s a morbid thought.”
“Perhaps, but it focuses the mind. You have to find your way, Clementine, even if it doesn’t happen to be the way your family have envisaged for you.”
“I’m working in Dawcomb to save up so I can go off somewhere, anywhere.”
“Anywhere but here.” He grinned at her.
“I know, I sound so ungrateful.”
“I don’t know you well enough to know if you’re being ungrateful. But I know human nature enough to know that you will never be happy living your life for other people. You have to go your own way and work it all out for yourself.”
“You’re very wise, Rafa.”
“Thank you, Clementine. Now I think we should get out because I can no longer feel my toes.”
They sat on the sand to dry, and Clementine was able to appreciate how fit he was and how handsome, with his wet hair falling over his forehead. It seemed unbelievable that she was there beside him, as wet as a fish, laughing as if they had always been friends. Finally, even though they were not yet dry, they dressed and walked back up to the car. Clementine felt uncomfortable with her wet bra and knickers beneath her clothes, but she wouldn’t have missed that swim for anything in the world.
They drove back to the Polzanze, discussing the reactions they were going to get when they told everyone that they had been swimming.
“I’ll be sacked as your guide,” said Clementine.
“I’ll be sacked as the artist.”
“No, you won’t.”
“You don’t think?”
“So long as you don’t lead the old ladies astray.”
“Old ladies?”
“Your pupils.”
“Ah, por supuesto, my pupils.” He rubbed his chin. “How old are they?”
“Very old.” Clementine laughed. “But apparently very entertaining. They’re wildly eccentric. They were here last year, and Marina’s still talking about them.”
“You weren’t here last year?”
“Of course not!”
He shook his head. “No, silly me. You were somewhere, anywhere, but not here.”
12.
Clementine and Rafa burst into the hotel like a pair of wet dogs. Rose and Jennifer watched them run upstairs, their laughter filling the stairwell and bouncing off the walls like sparks.
Rose looked at Jennifer and raised her eyebrows. “What do you think they’ve been doing?”
“Whatever it is, I wish I had done it, too,” Jennifer replied longingly.
“Do you think they’ve been swimming in the sea?”
“Well, unless they’ve fallen into a giant puddle I’d say the sea is a strong possibility.”
“To think he’s going to be here all summer.”
“Hearts are going to be broken.”
“I wouldn’t care,” Rose sighed. “I’d happily have him break my heart.”
Lunch was in the dining room at a long table by the window. Marina placed Rafa between herself and Clementine. She noticed their wet hair and that both of them had changed their clothes. They were exhilarated, exchanging banter like intimate friends. Clementine’s face was lit up like a Chinese lantern, her habitual dark presence infused with light. Marina marveled at the sudden change in her. Her stepdaughter even smiled at her, and Marina was ashamed that she felt so pathetically grateful for such a small crumb of kindness.