Chapter One
The waves lapped gently at Cheryl’s legs as she made her way slowly down the empty stretch of sand. She looked out at the ocean which looked strangely inviting despite the cool temperature.
The only sign that she was there at all were the prints that her bare feet were leaving in the soft wet sand. She tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear to stop it from blowing in the wind that seemed to have been blowing for days without any rest.
A dog yapped loudly in the distance, a small reminder that she wasn’t really alone, it just felt that way sometimes. She looked out to the sea again, which was empty without a boat or vessel in sight, the way it had been for more than a week.
Had she seen anybody in a week? she wondered to herself as she stopped and bent down to pick up a shell that caught her attention, half buried in the sand, the other half gleaming like hidden treasure.
It was an old habit, not even one of hers, but still she collected them.
How many times had she walked down this beach?
How many times had they walked down this beach?
She put the shell in her bag and carried on up the beach, the wind blowing her long skirt as she went. She wrapped her long cardigan around her for some protection from the biting chill that was in the air, although it didn’t do much, it made her feel better as she felt the tightness of it around her waist.
She walked over to the rocks that covered one side of the beach, sheltering it from the road above. Normally it was nice to sit there, watching the children playing in the sand, building their sand castles only for the waves to come along and destroy them, this time though she would sit and look out at the vast ocean, the emptiness a stark reminder of her own life.
How long had it been since somebody held her hand? How long had it been since somebody shared her bed, or woke her up in the morning? She couldn’t remember anymore which was a sure sign that it was too long.
She picked the shell up from her bag that had caught her eye only moments earlier and had a good look at it. She had hundreds of them at home, they were all stored in jars and shoe boxes, like little souvenirs from every walk on the beach that they shared together.
When was it that she started collecting them on her own?
She couldn’t remember that either.
Time had a funny way of erasing even the most favourite of memories.
With a heavy sigh she squeezed the shell in her fist tightly as if it was something so valuable that she couldn’t possibly let it go, but of course she had to. She had to let it go if she was going to be able to move on. As she was now, she was still stuck in the past, still stuck in a time when collecting useless things like shells had seemed fun.
She raised her hand and threw it in to the ocean, wiping her hands together as she heard the satisfying sound of it splashing in to the water.
Gone forever.
If only memories were that easy to get rid of. Sometimes she would walk around the village, go in to the shops, visit the petrol station, and for just a minute, one fleeting second, somebody would catch her eye. Her heart would start to race and her breath would catch in her throat.
Could it really be her?
It never was though. A reflection of a woman in a bus window had fooled her once. She had the same hair and the same silhouette asher.
But it wasn’t her.
The disappointment she had felt that day had almost destroyed her. It wasn’t so much the fact that it wasn’t her sat on the bus, it was the fact that their relationship was so strained that she couldn’t even pick up the phone to see where she was.
Nicola phoned her every so often, keeping her up to date on what everyone was doing, everyone except her of course. She didn’t talk about her to Cheryl in case it hurt too much.
She spoke to Nadine a few weeks ago, and had given the offer of a free holiday to LA some serious consideration, but at the last minute she had bottled out of it. It would only mean talking about her.
The little dog that she had heard in the distance before had somehow found its way to her, running excitedly and jumping at her feet. She reached down and stroked it, looking up to the old man who was walking by.
They exchanged a smile. They had seen each other in this very spot for more than a year, each time saying ‘hello’ but still remaining perfect strangers. This time it was different though, this time he stopped in his tracks and looked down to Cheryl who was still sat on the rock.
“morning” she smiled, hoping it would reach her eyes. She liked the old man, his dog offered her some much needed affection every morning, affection that she needed so desperately.
He walked over to her and sat a few feet away from her on another of the rocks, and looked out to the same stretch of ocean that Cheryl was looking at.
“it’s beautiful isn’t it?” she said after a while, her voice sounding small against the hard wind and the crashing waves.
“it’s even better if you have someone to share it with” he nodded in agreement.
Cheryl nodded too, she knew what he was saying. From what she could tell he had been on his own for quite some time after his wife had died, two years ago she hardly even noticed him as they passed each other by on that very same stretch of sand. But then again, two years ago, she wasn’t sat here alone.
“the storm will pass soon” she said to him, looking up at the dark clouds that were congregating over their heads. The rain had been threatening to arrive all day, and the first few speckles had found there way on to her head.
She opened her umbrella and put it between them so that they were both covered by it. He didn’t say anything else, they fell in to a comfortable silence as they lost their selves in painful memories and regret.
-
A few minutes passed before he eventually got up and dusted himself down. “see you tomorrow” Cheryl smiled at him and gave the dog a pat on the head.
“I’m a lonely old man” he said to her, although his eyes were having trouble focusing on hers. “Don’t end up like me” he finished before setting out on his way.
She watched him walking, the dog yapping and running in circles around his feet until they were both out of sight. Her hand instinctively went in to her bag and pulled out a photograph.
It wasn’t the best photograph she had of her, but it was one that seemed to go everywhere with her. She ran her fingers over it, tracing the outline of her beautiful face that was staring out at her, a smile etched across it that reminded her of the good times.
She was so far away now. Gone forever like the shell that she had tossed in to the ocean.
“Kimberley” she sighed to herself as a tear found its way down her face, splashing on to the glass in the photo frame. She wiped it away quickly and put the photo safely back in to her bag, treating it as if it were the crown jewels.
Although she didn’t know why she was so protective over it, because her face was imprinted on her brain, branded so that she could see it every time she closed her eyes, a bittersweet reminder of what she had lost.
