Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“What did you want to do?”
“I wanted to become a marine biologist.”
“Really?” She crosses her hands over her stomach. “Did you ever look into it?”
“I completed my first year at university.” The memory of finding out that Angelo paid my tuition fees still leaves me bitter.
“Why didn’t you carry on?”
“I came here.”
“Why marine biology?”
“I love the sea.” I shrug. “It’s my passion. There’s something about the sounds and the light under the water that makes me feel as if I’m in a different world where everything is calm and safe. Drifting in the water is like being rocked in a crib. Even the violence of the big waves has an irresistible pull. I like the challenge of surfing them without getting trashed to a pulp. When I go with the flow and don’t fight the sea, it always pushes me out on the shore. It’s as if we have a secret complicity. I can swim out for hours and never tire of discovering all its surprises.”
“Ah.” She pushes her glasses onto the bridge of her nose and shudders. “Diving into so much dark water when you can’t see what’s underneath gives me the creeps.”
“It’s actually not that bad. Most of the time, you have a few meters of visibility.”
“No thanks.” She wiggles her shoulders as another shiver runs over her. “I’m afraid of water. I can’t swim.”
“Sophie is scared of water too. I was thinking of teaching her to swim in the summer. If you like, you can join us. I can teach you too.”
“Oh, I don’t know. At my age?”
“You’re never too old to learn new skills. If it’s a fear you really want to overcome, I’ll be happy to help you.”
“If anything should motivate me, it won’t be overcoming my fear.” She reflects for a moment. “I’d like to go out on a boat and not be afraid. When the summers get unbearably hot, I’d like to cool down in the water. It’ll be nice.”
“Then it’s a deal.” I hold out my hand. “Come summer, we’re doing swimming lessons.”
She drags in a long breath. “I’m only brave now because that’s still months away.” Giving my outstretched hand a long look, she finally clasps it in hers and says, “Oh, what the hell. I’m not going to die without at least trying. The village won’t remember me as the brilliant pharmacist who passed her degree with honors. They’ll only think of me as the woman who couldn’t swim.”
I laugh. “I’m sure they’ll remember you for much more.”
She scoffs. “Don’t be so sure about that. It’s how it works in these small towns. Talking about scary waters, have you seen the river?”
“The banks by Mr. Martin’s house are flooded.”
“It’s coming down from the mountains with a vengeance. With the turn of the season, the snow is melting. Every year, the bridge gets flooded and sheep grazing on the slopes are washed away. You better be careful when you cross it.”
“I’ll remember that.”
A client enters, so I greet Mrs. Campana and take my leave.
Closer to the school, the river comes down with such a strong flow it overflows the footbridge that connects the two banks. On the south side of the bridge, the water rushes toward a few shallow rapids. The ducks that usually float on the flat surface of the river fled to the shelter of the reeds higher up under the trees.
I make my way along the bank, staying off the road and using the shady lane of giant plane trees as cover to stay out of sight. The school will close soon, and Angelo’s driver can turn up at any moment. Angelo told me he was going to ground Johan for the two days that he’s been expelled. I want to reassure myself that the other kids are fine.
The grass underneath my feet is spongy, and the earth smells mossy. The ring of the school bell sounds above the noise of the river. A moment later, the principal opens the gate. Children rush out, laughing and yelling as they run toward the adults waiting on the pavement or in the parking lot. I stay behind the trunk of a tree, peering around it to see if I can catch a glimpse of Sophie and the boys.
Two older boys run toward the river. At the bridge, they take off their shoes and socks and, screaming with excitement, run through the overflow to the other side. A few adults follow their example, crossing the bridge with their shoes in their hands.
Guillaume’s auburn curls catch my attention. He walks through the gate with his brother in tow. Sophie runs to catch up with them, calling after them to wait. She seems annoyed but not sad. It’s an enormous relief. My heart warms as I spy on the trio from my hiding place. They look very different from the dirty, neglected children I first met.