Commitment Issues by Ali Ryecart
Chapter Twenty
Elliot
“Oh!” Freddie’s eyes widen. “Being here,” he says, spreading his arms wide and looking around the picture-perfect little cove, “it must be incredibly painful for you. Why did you want to come? We didn’t have to join the boat party.”
“I didn’t want you to miss out. It’s beautiful here, even though what ultimately happened was… not beautiful.”
“But it’s just a beach. We could have spent the day on the one at the villa.”
He lays his warm palm on my arm in understanding, solidarity and support, and my heart trips. It’s the empathy, the understanding I’m not expecting from somebody so young. Everything’s ahead of him, the world’s wide open and full of promise, the path through it yet to be strewn with broken promises and heartbreak.
“Are you okay? Really?” Freddie looks at me, concern filling in his big hazel eyes.
I nod. “I’m fine. It’s just the first time I’ve been back here since Gavin and I split up, but it’s a beautiful place, the sun’s shining, and we should make the most of it. Honestly, Freddie, it’s not a problem.”
“If you’re sure?” he says, stepping in closer, his voice low, as he studies me. The frown furrowing his brow smooths, as though he’s finally satisfied. “In that case, it’s the perfect location.”
“For what?”
He answers by sliding his arm around me, holding me lightly but close as he rests his head on my shoulder. I gasp, and he laughs, the low chuckle vibrating across my skin.
“I think you’re supposed to reciprocate. Put your arms around me,” he murmurs into my neck.
Of course I’m supposed to put my bloody arms around him. We’re supposed to be a couple, but we won’t look much like one if I stand as stiff as a plank of wood. And it’s easy to wrap myself around him, to encase him in my arms and feel the warm press of his body against mine.
I close my eyes and draw in a long breath, soaking my senses in his aroma. It’s soap and shampoo and freshness. It’s the scent of youth and vitality, and it only serves to emphasise how tired and jaded I am. He shifts and looks up at me, concern and intelligence dancing in his eyes.
“Come for a swim with me.” He nods towards the gently lapping sea, turquoise blue against the golden sand.
Many in the wedding party are already in the water. Others lie on towels, some as naked as the day they were born, as they soak up the sun.
My stomach hitches. Naked. I’ve no hang-ups about stripping off on the beach, and I know objectively I have a good body, but I don’t do it to flaunt myself. I love the feeling of freedom and the lack of constraint shedding all my clothes gives me. I spend most of my life buttoned up in a suit and tie, and just throwing it all away, if only few for a few hours, is a taste of a long-lost freedom. But I’m here with Freddie, and being naked in front of him fills me with equal parts thrill and equal parts horror.
“I’ll keep my trunks on,” I say, “but if you want…”
He shakes his head, colour tinging his cheekbones. “And risk getting sand in places I really don’t want to get sand? No, it’s okay. Besides, it’s not only my back that threatens to go all cheesy Dorito in the sun.” He shrugs and offers up a mischievous grin. “And besides,” he adds, “if anybody wants to know why we’re not as naked as newborns, we can tell them we keep it strictly for the bedroom.”
The image sears itself on my brain. Freddie. Naked. In the bedroom. On the bed.
Shit…My cock’s straining against the confines of my trunks, and I turn aside, not wanting him to witness the effect those words are having on me. I rummage in my bag for my towel, my water, my book, anything to stop me meeting his eyes and giving myself away.
“I’m going to stay here. I may come in later,” I say as I fiddle about with the towel. There’s not a snowball in hell’s chance of that happening, now or ever. “You go in, though.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod, my voice too rough to speak. Sucking in a long, quiet breath, I hold it for a moment, taking the time to gather myself and steady my nerves. It’s a trick I learned years ago, when I’d been starting out in business, as a way to manage and not betray I was shaking like a leaf behind the controlled exterior. It’s been a long time since I’ve needed the hack, but I need it now.
“Yes, of course I am. I promise to stay put here, on my towel, and not wander off and get lost.”
His eyes drift past me to the warm sea beyond, his longing to be wrapped in its caress shining from his eyes.
“Would it be rude of me to say that Andrew looks like some kind of monster from the deep?”
I follow his gaze, and laugh. “No. In fact, I’d say you were spot on.”
Emerging from the waves, Andrew lumbers onto the beach, his stocky and very hairy body making it look like he’s covered in fur. He comes to a halt in front of us, shaking the water from himself like a huge St Bernard.
“Are you still finding excuses not to go into the water, Elliot? You did take those swimming lessons, didn’t you?”
Andrew’s glaring at me and Freddie’s staring, his mouth agape.
“Is that why you don’t want to come in?” Freddie says, “because you can’t swim?”
“No, he bloody well can’t, and he finds every excuse not to learn. For his birthday last year, I booked him a course of lessons with a private tutor at my health club. He turned up once. And don’t blame work commitments, because I spotted you having lunch during what should have been one of your sessions.”
“No, I can’t swim, but what’s the big deal? I can’t paraglide, either, or dance the tango. That doesn’t surprise anybody, so why should not being able to swim be different? It’s never bothered me so it shouldn’t bother anybody else.” I glower at Andrew. Thank you very much.
“See if you can persuade him, Freddie, perhaps use some of your considerable charms.” He runs his eyes down Freddie’s body and smiles, and a prickle of irritation sparks across my skin.
“Please don’t eye up my boyfriend, you’re supposed to be getting married tomorrow.” I’m trying to sound lighthearted and flippant, to shift the focus away from the fact that I can’t do something most seven-year-olds can. But there’s a bite to my voice. Silence settles on all three of us, and Freddie’s hand goes to the back of his neck, that nervous gesture of his that gives him away every time.
“You know what I mean,” I say to Andrew. “And I’m sorry I bunked off the rest of the swimming lessons.”
“I always knew you would, but it was worth a try. I’d better get back to Marcus and rub some suncream into that exquisite little body of his.”
Andrew lopes off up the beach and both Freddie and I watch him go.
“I could use many words to describe Marcus, but exquisite isn’t one of them.” I turn back to Freddie. “So, there’s my little secret dragged out into the open. Bloody Andrew.”
“I can’t ski. I tried it once but it scared the life out of me, and now every time I see more than a couple of inches of snow I get the heebie-jeebies and break out in a cold sweat. It’s no big deal, not in the grander scheme of things. Just like swimming.”
I gaze out to sea, feeling the familiar surge of envy, the way I always do when I see people enjoying themselves in the water.
“I like looking at it, and being near it, even being on it in a boat, but it scares the bloody life out of me. But it’s a life skill isn’t it? Like driving, or knowing CPR, or the Heimlich manoeuvre. All the things we should know. I’ve only mastered one of those and I suspect you can guess which one.”
I glance at Freddie, unsure what I’ll see in his eyes. With Gavin, it had always been an annoyance, as though what he considered a failing on my part was really some grand design to screw up whichever holiday we were on. I see none of that in Freddie’s face, instead he looks serious and thoughtful.
“I swim, most days if I can manage it. In fact, I swam for the university when I was an undergrad. I’m not offering to teach you, because I know that’s not what you want. But if you need the moral support then come in with me now. If at any point you’re uncomfortable, we’ll just get out.”
I don’t know what to say. It’s a simple offer of help, nothing more or less. There’s none of Gavin’s ill-tempered cajoling that always ended in a row, or Andrew’s well-meaning but heavy-handed efforts to resolve what he sees as a problem. If I say no, that’d be the end of it; there’d be no irritated sigh, or heavy glower thrown my way. If I say yes, if I grab his offer with both very shaky hands… I glance back at the sea and lick my lips.
“I…”
“It’s right to feel wary, even scared, of the water. It can be the most wonderful, joyous and caressing thing, but it can be cruel too and turn on you in an instant. But it’s calm, and I promise nothing bad’ll happen to you, not with me. Come on, come in with me. I won’t let you down.”
He holds his hand out to me, not just to lead me down to the water’s edge and beyond. No, he’s offering me his strength, and I know he’ll take my trust and keep it safe. It’s up to me whether to accept the offer that’s given so freely.
“Are you sure about this? I’m likely to flap my arms about and scream like a teenager.”
I’ve made a success of everything in my life, with the notable exception of my relationship with Gavin. A scholarship to one of the best public schools. A double first in my degree. A successful businessman by the time I was thirty. I’m not used to failing when I set out to do something. It’s why I bunked off all but one of the lessons Andrew booked for me.
“And I don’t have my water wings with me.” I say it as a joke, but heat flames in my face. The rubber bands, bright orange, deflated and abandoned somewhere in the back of a cupboard.
“You won’t need them, because I’m your water wing. But it’s up to you, I won’t push you either way.”
If I think about it, I won’t do it. I throw off my T-shirt and wriggle out of my shorts, revealing the plain black trunks I’m wearing beneath. I look out at the gorgeous, deep blue Mediterranean and my balls scurry up into my body and my cock shrinks.
Freddie takes my hand and leads the way. Up above in the clear blue sky, gulls wheel around and shriek, as though they’re laughing at me. My heart races out of control and a bead of sweat trickles down my backbone. We stand on the darker strip of wet, compacted sand at the water’s edge. A warm, gentle wave rolls in and laps around my bare feet. How can something that feels so good frighten me half to death?
The memory’s as sharp as a blade.
Standing on the edge of the local pool, lined up with the other kids from my class, all of us shivering, the stench of chlorine filling our nostrils. The hard, sudden shove from behind, losing balance, falling, and plunging headfirst into the cold water. Lungs filling, arms flapping, and the fear that drags me down and down. A lifeguard hauling me out, dumping me on the side, as I cry for my mum, the other kids sniggering and sneering all around me. I’m fifty-two, but as the sea laps around my feet I’m that seven-year-old kid again, shivering at the poolside.
Freddie gently squeezes my hand. “You’ve got nothing to fear. I won’t take you out of your depth. We’ll walk out to waist height and that’ll be it. I could say to you to take it slowly, but the best thing is to take a deep breath and walk until I say stop. A bit like pulling off a plaster, when you think about it. Just keep hold of my hand.”
He steps forward but I’m rooted to the spot, and he turns to look at me when I don’t move, leaving the decision to me whether to advance or retreat.
“I don’t think I can just march in.”
“Then take it at your own pace. But remember, I’ve got you.”
Step-by-step I make myself move forward. The sea’s calm and as warm as a bath. Slowly, slowly, slowly I advance, never letting go of Freddie’s hand. Once the water’s at waist level we stop, just as he’s promised.
“Stand here for a moment and feel the water’s silky warmth.” He laughs. “That sounds a bit cheesy doesn’t it? Like a bad line from a book.”
I don’t say anything but I know what he means. The gentle movement of the sea on my already warm skin is the softest of caresses. My heart begins to calm.
“I can’t remember the last time I was in the sea.”
“Then coming in this far’s a triumph in itself, isn’t it? Just lower yourself so that the water comes up to your neck. Nothing’s going to happen to you, other than getting wet. And don’t forget, I’ve totally got you.”
With anybody else I’d tell them to go to hell, in fact I wouldn’t even be in the sea, but there’s something about Freddie’s matter-of-fact, easy manner that steadies me. Scared as I am, I give him all my trust, holding nothing back, knowing he’ll keep his word and not let me down.
I force myself to sink deeper into the water.
“That’s really good. If it feels too much, just stand up, because we’re still only in up to our waists.”
No. I shake my head. I’ve got this far, I’m not backing out now even if I can still hear my seven-year-old self crying on the poolside.
“How do you feel about floating on your back?”
“You want me to take my feet off the ground?”
“Only if you want to. The sea’s so calm it’d be just like lying on a water bed.” He snorts out a laugh, and I chuckle as we catch each other’s eye. “I can support your head, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Freddie’s so matter-of-fact. He doesn’t make a big deal out of the situation, he makes it sound so easy and straightforward, and more than anything, more than my fear even, I don’t want to let him down. I have to try, I want to try, not just for my sake but for his too. Maybe I can do this, maybe I can get this right if he’s here with me. I swallow and nod my head, little short, sharp movements.
Freddie smiles his encouragement and edges around so that he’s standing behind me. It means him releasing my hands, and for a moment panic surges through me.
“I’m here, and I’ve got you. No need to panic. Just think of it as the first time you had your trainer wheels removed from your bicycle.”
I huff. “Yes, and I went straight into a brick wall, knocking over Shelley Jones in the process, ripping her dress and making her cry.” Behind me, Freddie chuckles, and I shiver as his warm breath drifts across my ear.
“Well, you’re not going to knock anybody down this time. Now just let yourself gently fall back at the same time you lift your feet. And remember, I’m here and ready to catch you.”
I do exactly what he asks me to. I don’t think there’s anybody else in the entire world who, in this moment, I’d trust more. Still, it’s bloody nerve-wracking and, as I bring my feet up, my balance goes. I rock from side to side, my arms flapping hard as panic squeezes at my heart. I’ve taken it too far, too soon, and I’ve been a fool to believe I can do this.
“Everything’s fine.” Freddie’s sure hands and surer voice steady me. “Just breathe, just take long slow breaths. Nothing’s going to happen to you, not whilst I’m here.”
I’m on my back, as helpless as an overturned turtle. I look up into his face, hovering above me. He’s smiling and his golden hair’s wet at the edges and shining like a halo. Just the sight of him, his smile and all his good sense, is enough to quell the ragged beat of my heart.
“I’m going to support your head just so it doesn’t flop back too much, although it doesn’t really need supporting. The sea’s being kind to you, it’s giving you all the support you need. Which might sound like a load of old bollocks, but it’s fact. It’s physics. Is it physics? I think everything’s physics, don’t you reckon? Anyway, it’s the salt water making you buoyant.”
As I float on my back, with the sun beating down, I do my best to settle my breathing into a regular pattern and I’m just beginning to feel the first nibbles of being comfortable when a wave that’s probably no bigger than a ripple surges over my face, filling my mouth and nose. I gasp, and swallow the bitter salt water. Panic grabs me, sending my arms and legs flapping out of control as I gag on the seawater. A quick tug, and I’m upright, back on my feet as Freddie holds my hands to steady me.
“Fucking hell,” I rasp, my breathing coming short and sharp.
“You’re fine, you’re fine. All you did was swallow a bit of seawater.”
“There was a wave, I didn’t think…” I say, my teeth chattering.
Freddie shakes his head, his mouth pressing into a thin line. “No, there wasn’t a wave. Or not a natural one.” He looks over to a group of men just a few yards away in the middle of which is a grinning Gavin. They’re larking about, chasing each other and whipping up the water.
“I think that’s enough for today, but you did brilliantly.”
“If brilliantly means getting into a panic when in only three or so foot of water, then maybe I did.” My words taste sour in my mouth, much like the seawater.
“You went into the sea of your own volition. I think conquering a long-held fear is something you can tick off your To Do list today, don’t you?”
Hand-in-hand we make our way out and back up to our towels spread out by the overhanging rock. I would’ve done exactly as I said I would, I’d have flapped around in a panic, but I know I’ve done a whole lot more. Whatever I’ve achieved in my life, those few minutes in the sea, under Freddie’s gentle guidance, feels like my greatest triumph.
