Isle Of Salt

Chapter Seven

Graham

Leaning on the railing, he heard the door shut behind him as he flicked his cigarette butt into the night.

'Are you sure you want this?' Andrèas approached him with a glass bottle in hand.

'Yeah, I forgot how much I want a drink after a smoke.' He grunted as he took the beer from the man's grip and returned to his position over the railing.

'I don't know how to deal with all of this-' Turning to face Andrèas, he watched as the man ran a hand across his face in despair, '-I thought I had seen the worst in London.'

'What did happen in London? None of us heard anything from you for months until you contacted Toby days before your arrival?' Graham knew that Andrèas never responded well to this kind of questioning, but considering what had happened in the past day, he thought he try his luck.

'I was fired and my citizenship revoked. I'm lucky I didn't get prison time.' Straightening, Graham stared at him in confusion. Andrèas was not the type of person who would normally step out of line, let alone do something that would get him deported.

The lights from inside the bar were enough to illuminate the pain that was apparent on Andrèas' face, an emotion that the man rarely showed.

'Can you tell me what happened?' Graham placed a hand on his shoulder and waited.

'Maybe one day but not now, it's my burden to bare-' Andrèas stopped abruptly, his words cut off mid-sentence. Graham watched him frown then squint as if he was trying to see something in the distance. Following his gaze, Graham found himself staring out onto the calm water. At first, all the older man saw was the inky darkness lapping at the sandy beach, but as he stared a moment longer he thought he detected movement a few meters from shore. There someone out there and it looked as if they were in trouble.

Suddenly, Graham found himself hastily following Andrèas down the steps and onto the sand.

'Andrèas! Wait!' He stopped at the water's edge as the young man proceeded to remove his shoes and shirt before barrelling into the cold sea. Making sure he didn't lose sight of the man, he moved further into the water. A sense of déjà vu washed over him. His chest tightened as his breath caught in his throat. Running a nervous hand across his beard, his toes started to tingle as the liquid seeped in through his shoes and socks. While the water only lapped at his feet, the sensation evoked a memory of the cold sea climbing its way up his body. While he had kept his gaze on Andrèas, he had become too distracted with his memories to notice that the man was hauling a body out of the salty ocean.

'Graham!' He called, the sound of his name brought Graham back to the present. Running to the water's edge, he watched as Andrèas laid a young woman down on the sand. Coming up behind him, Graham now noticed newly healing wounds stretching across the young man's broad back. Now was not the time, but he would inquire later. The older man stepped around the body and dropped to his knees.

'She's not breathing,' Andrèas exclaimed before tilting the women's head back, gently and carefully, opening her mouth. He leant forward and placed his lips against hers, exhaling into her body. Graham sat on the wet sand, feeling completely useless. He'd never saved anyone. His life had been grimy and full of lies, he'd ruined his marriage and alienated his child. He had told himself it was to protect those he loved but at heart, he was a criminal, a corrupt cop who took bribes and could never save a life, only end them.

Suddenly, the woman lurched sideways as she the ocean poured from her lungs. The movement snapped Graham from his daze. Andrèas sat back as she heaved and gasped. Stabilising the woman with a hand upon her shoulder, Graham asked; 'Are you alright?', a stupid question he knew, then as the woman looked up, he saw eyes that resembled a raging sea. Retracting his arm, he pushed himself back as he recognised who it was.