Time and Tide

Sometimes the mind frames key moments, discarding everything that happens in between as flotsam. The first time Ed, musician and would be rock star laid eyes on his soon-to-be wife Zoe, had been one such moment.

Zoe had been perched next to Johnny at the bar of his favourite pub, her hair tossed back, laughing. She was all twinkling brown eyes and cascading blond curls. Johnny, not missing a beat, had stood next to her and introduced himself.

Ed hadn’t wanted to crush his friend’s happiness.

Johnny was the bass player in the band Ed had formed and fronted. He also happened to be Ed’s friend from schooldays. Before Zoe, his only friend. The two had shared similar tastes, and apart from the colour of their eyes (Ed’s were blue and Johnny’s were brown) bore more than a passing resemblance. Johnny had been like a younger brother to the more worldly and older Ed. More quirky than rocky, “The Quirkrocks” were building up quite a reputation when Zoe showed up.

***

Johnny had always been the elephant in Ed and Zoe’s marriage. The lurking shadow, preventing honest conversation, the one who came before. Somehow, they papered him over. The man between the cracks.

One day, out of the blue, Zoe had raised Johnny’s name. By then she was in the last months of her life and reshaping boundaries. Time was running out.

“What are you going to do about Johnny?”Ed didn’t know what to say to that one. He didn’t want to think about the future, unable to face what would happen when Zoe had gone.

But for Zoe, the question needed answering.

“Let’s go to the sea. We’ll talk about it there.”

“What, now?” Zoe’s illness had taught Ed to expect the unexpected. Cancer did that. Time was too precious to waste.

“Yes. Now!” Zoe loved the sea. “There’s no time like the present.”

“If you’re sure.” Ed worried the two hour drive might prove taxing. He didn’t want to cause more pain.

“I’ll manage it. We’ll hire a beach wheelchair. A last glimpse before I go.”

DON’T SAY THAT! It might have been easier if he’d believed in an afterlife.

Somehow, they had taken a wrong turn.

“You were right. We should have used the Sat Nav.” A man of extremes, Ed had a love-hate affair with technology, preferring to rely on maps which Zoe hated.

“Surely it can’t be much further!”

“Shush! Listen! Can you hear them?” Zoe was enraptured.

“Hear what?”

”The seagulls. We must be near the coast.”He could hear them now. A squawking cacophony of pecking scavengers riding the skies, willing to stop at nothing.

A few more turns revealed a line of blue-grey sea. Zoe took a breath of sea tang, moved by it, unsure why.

After parking the car, Ed wheeled his wife along the promenade. Every so often, the sun skittered from behind the clouds highlighting a distant helter-skelter, its flag no longer in use.

“Health and safety gone mad again,” Ed snarked.

“But sometimes we need it.” Zoe was thinking of the ramps which would make it possible for her to access the beach in a wheelchair. That would never have happened in another age. Occasionally, things really did change for the better. Getting there might be difficult, but not impossible.

The Big Wheel was a smaller, less grand version of the London Eye.

“Let’s stop here for a bit.” Zoe got a vicarious thrill from watching the people in carriages. Not so long ago, she’d have thought nothing of riding the Big Dipper further down the coast, rising and twisting along the rickety track, her hair fanned out, before plummeting back down. Time had run out on that particular pleasure. Now, it would have caused unbearable pain.

While Zoe lived, Ed savoured her joy. She sought pleasure in everything, however small. The train that puttered along the seafront, the trundling horses with their buffed-up carriages, the faces within smiling out like royalty, the shops selling a host of holiday must-haves which included buckets and spades, and miniature windmills turning gaudily in the breeze.

The sea’s breakers were lapping the shore in an endless cycle of foam. Zoe clapped her hands.

”There’s nothing like the sea.”

Ed took a picture wishing to preserve the memory. The sun was just crossing the horizon point when Zoe turned to him.

”Let’s head for the cliffs.”

“Are you sure?” Reaching the red and white cliffs further along the coast would involve further manoeuvrings and another car ride, but Zoe had always found peace in their ancient striations. Even if their permanence was an illusion.

“Here it is.” As they headed into the car park, they passed the famous lighthouse tower which had been rebuilt from timber as a result of a fire in the 18th century. A brilliant new light had helped guide weary sea travellers, until a chain of late nineteenth century floating lights rendered it superfluous. The tower had been an observation post during the wars and later its ancillary rooms were used as tea rooms. For many years, rumours abounded of it being pulled down, but so far it remained sturdy, a faded relic of times past.

Zoe watched Ed rest his back against the cliff wall. It was time out of mind. His boyish smile reminded her of why she had fallen for him.

“Do you remember the night we first met?”How could he forget? His best friend Johnny, had been smitten the night Zoe had appeared. They both had. Only now were they were talking about it.

“At the time I was looking over Johnny’s shoulder hoping you’d speak to me.”

“And I was pretending not to notice.”

Ed replayed the moment Johnny asked Zoe if he could get her a drink.

“Seeing you’re asking, a rum and coke please. Oh, and make it a dark one.”

***

After years of marriage, thoughts ran along parallel lines.

“You always did like dark rum,” Ed said.

Zoe shifted in her chair.

“It was bittersweet watching the pair of you head for a dark corner to get better acquainted,” Ed broke out.

“I assumed you weren’t interested.”

”You were wrong. Anyway, the next time you turned up arm in arm with Johnny, it was a moot point.”

***

Ironically, not long after Johnny had stalked out of the pub, the band had been snapped up by an agent, given a recording contract and began touring Europe. A lost opportunity, but too much had happened to ask Johnny back. Perhaps it was just as well.

***

“Fancy some candy floss?”

They had passed a van further along the promenade. “I’ll go and get you one. I won’t be long,” Ed promised.

“No need to rush. It’s not as if I’m going anywhere. I have all the time in the world.”

She tried not to grimace. “Until I don’t.”

The sky deepened as the tide went out. 

Early on, Zoe had discovered she was pregnant. It had been a last-minute pity fuck and she should never have done it. She was young and suddenly all these decisions were piling up, needing to be made. Adapting fast, she’d realised she needed a more settled life, while insisting Ed continue doing what he loved doing.

It hadn’t been easy.

***

Somehow, Ed made it back before the ice creams melted.

“Here you go. I got you the strawberry one. Just in the nick of time. They’d nearly run out.”

“That tastes good.” For a few seconds, she forgot she had cancer. Then, “Johnny used to like ice cream. Do you remember?”

So, they were back to that. “Of course.”

“You must have missed him when he left.”

“I did.” The memory seared. 

One night when the band were due to play, Johnny’s dad’s car had broken down and he’d rung the pub from a call-box explaining he’d be late, if he made it at all. 

Zoe had been sipping her drink at the bar. She seemed on edge. Ed sat on the bar stool beside her. “You worried about Johnny?”

“I’m thinking of ending it with him.” 

Ed hadn’t known what to say. 

The landlord tapped him on the shoulder. “We’ve waited long enough mate. I think you should start without your pal.”

“Right.” Ed touched Zoe’s arm. “We’ll talk later. This isn’t a good time.”

”There’s never going to be a good time.” Impulsively, Zoe reached across and kissed him. He returned the kiss feeling like his world had split open.

When Johnny still hadn’t arrived, the band made the best of things. During a quick interval, Zoe joined Ed in the car park. Johnny made it just in time to see them kissing.

That had been the last time Ed had seen his friend.

***

Zoe was captivated by three neglected sandcastles on the beach. She might have dismissed them had they remained intact, but the breakers had come and collapsed their indulgent peaks. She drew up her blanket, agonising over telling him. Was it really worth it after so long? She picked up a handful of sand, watched the silky grains slip through her fingers. Time was running out fast.

“I want to tell you something Ed.” “

“What?” There was a catch in his voice. “That…”

“What?” The gap yawned like a chasm. “That…”

“Go on, spit it out. It can’t be that bad.” Fear tugged him. Supposing it was?

She stared ahead blankly. “Just that… you will get back in contact with Johnny, won’t you? You’re going to need a friend in the months ahead.”

”There’s no need for that. I’ll have Tim.”

Tim had always been a good son. He couldn’t have asked for better.

“Well, at least promise me you’ll think about it.”

Ed nodded uncertainly. It was all he could manage for the time being.

***

Keeping busy with tasks about the house was Ed’s way of distracting himself from Zoe’s loss. In the dim light of the attic, he’d been using a hammer to repair a broken truss when he came across an old case. Curious, he climbed down from the ladder and squatted between the wooden rafters. He pulled the case towards him, blew off the dust, and opened the rusty hinge. Mostly filled with Zoe’s old keepsakes, his heart sank when he came across a batch of letters which had been tied together with yellow ribbon and written in Johnny’s hand. 

By the time Ed had read all Johnny’s letters, he’d travelled lifetimes. 

“There’s not a day goes by I don’t miss you,” his old friend had written. That one was dated only two years earlier and had been sent to Zoe’s workplace. But the real gut-puncher came from Zoe in a letter not sent. “I have to admit I sometimes wonder whether I chose the wrong man.”

Ed’s grief hardened into a coil of bitterness, slowly uncurling into a crust of pure pain. Up to that point, he’d been uncertain about honouring Zoe’s wish and visiting the man who had haunted his marriage. Now, he knew he’d have to be dragged along hot coals to do it. 

The only thing left was Tim. Tim was his pride and joy.

He’d always known the boy hadn’t been his, but it had never mattered.  Until now.