Ten ~ Dedication

Before Alastair cheated on me, I made some questionable choices of my own.

My parents used to send me to piano classes, and every night when leaving, I'd pass a boy making his way into the building. After a couple of months, we were so familiar with seeing one another that we'd stop and chat.

As my lessons progressed, I found myself more excited about bumping into my new friend than playing the piano. We started to meet up, first for coffee and then for dinner. Soon, we were spending entire days at each other's houses.

Alastair was aware of our blossoming relationship—he'd met Roman on several occasions—but he trusted me when I told him nothing had happened. As for my parents, the thought that I'd ever want to cheat on Alastair was inconceivable and they had no problem with the talented pianist spending time at our home.

We came from different backgrounds, but the piano brought us together. As we grew closer, he became a form of escapism for me. Whenever upset with Daisy or angry at Alastair, I'd rant to Roman and we'd laugh and joke until I'd cheered up.

He'd drag me around the dirtiest parts of his neighbourhood and claim he was opening my eyes to the real world. I'd take him out for meals at upmarket restaurants and claim I was introducing him to real food.

With Roman, I could be my authentic self. Our relationship pushed the boundaries of friendship, but we never crossed the line, no matter how close we came.

My romance with Alastair was losing its spark. His job occupied most of his day and took priority. At parties with our friends, he was still a loving boyfriend, but only because business wasn't on his mind. Through meeting up regularly with Roman, it became apparent that one boy had more time for me than the other. I began to resent Alastair for it, and one night I made a mistake that changed everything.

On his second work anniversary, Alastair's father gave him the opportunity to present the official launch of a new product. With it being an important evening, I was expected to join him.

Instead, though, I'd pretended to be unwell and had met with Roman. We'd planned to spend a couple of hours together in a pub until I headed back home, hopefully long before Alastair's unveiling finished.

It didn't quite go according to plan.

As Roman and I were leaving the tube station, a strong hand gripped my upper arm and pulled me down a deserted street. Despite the surprise, I'd recognised the hand instantly, the familiar aftershave provoking an unfamiliar sense of panic within me.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

In all the time I'd known him, I'd never seen Alastair so angry—his eyes wide with fury, his jaw clenched, and his fists balled. I'd opened my mouth to speak but found myself paralysed with shame, my response barely audible as the whisper left my lips.

"I'm sorry."

His eyes remained locked on me for a torturous amount of time before turning to Roman.

"Are you fucking my girlfriend?"

He might come from a rough patch of London, but Roman wasn't a tough guy. Alastair emitted power and authority. Tall, with broad shoulders and wearing his best suit, he'd intimidated my friend to the extent that Roman couldn't even look at him.

"No." Roman had focused his gaze on me instead. "Nothing like that has ever happened."

When Alastair took a threatening step towards him, I'd reached out to grab his hand. While it diverted his attention back to me, it had also angered him further. He'd thrown his hand in the air, dislodging my grip.

"I think you should leave," Alastair said, and Roman didn't need asking twice.

It wasn't quite a threat, but Roman must have taken it that way because I didn't see him again, and he ignored my messages. Who could blame him? A good guy like him deserved friends who didn't have to sneak around to hang out.

"Rosalie, I am so fucking furious right now," Alastair said, leaning against the wall and dragging a hand through his light hair. 

"Alastair, I'm so sorry—"

"Why?" he asked, his eyes turning from angry to sad. "Why would you lie to avoid coming to my big night? You knew how much this night meant to me. You knew I wanted you there."

"Did you, though? The whole reason Roman and I grew so close was because your company feels more important than me nowadays."

"Rosa, I'm about to make it big," Alastair said in a hushed tone, stepping closer to me again. "I've been working towards this for months. Perhaps I couldn't concentrate on our relationship as much as we'd have liked, but it's because of how busy I've been. I thought you'd understand, with your parents being busy people, too."

"I understand your business is important and time-consuming, but that doesn't mean you can expect me to sit around waiting for you."

That was the moment I'd realised what our relationship had become. Deep down, I knew Alastair cared for me, but I also knew he cared for his company a lot, too.

After that night, we made special efforts to spend one-on-one time together. Although great in the short-term, it only masked the overriding problem: I was in this for the long run and business always trumped romance.

~~~

A month into my summer here meant a month away from Carringham. From what I deduced via social media, everyone back home seemed to be having a great time. Apart from the odd like on one another's photos, Daisy and I hadn't been in touch. Away from each other, I didn't see the need to keep up the pretence of being close friends, and she must have felt the same.

During that confrontational evening with Roman, Alastair had made a comment that stuck with me. He'd said the most humiliating thing would have been people talking about how he'd failed to satisfy or please his girlfriend enough, and that had led to her straying.

I now understood that. Thousands of miles from Carringham, there was little I could do to keep Alastair satisfied with our relationship. I could only trust him.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I decided to go for a paddle to cool down. However gentle the waves appeared, I'd learnt not to ignore the ominous red flag that hung limp on its pole. As I dipped my toe into the shallow water, Brent's beady eyes followed me. I submerged my whole foot, and when that didn't warrant any reaction from Brent, I allowed my other to join it.

"Rosalie..."

Brent's tone was low and reproving, almost as though he wanted to warn me without starting an argument. After clashing at the party, we'd kept our distance from one another—as much as realistically possible when sharing the same beach, anyway. It had been working out for us, but he couldn't expect me to spend my entire summer away from the ocean.

I twisted my head round to look at him. "I only want to paddle. I won't go deeper than my knees, promise."

His eyes lingered on mine, debating whether to trust me. Eventually, he rose from his seat and descended the wooden ladder, before strolling down the sandy bank and wading into the water.

Several metres away, he stopped and extended one leg forwards. Apparently satisfied with his findings, Brent rotated to face me.

"Okay." He placed his hands on his hips, the muscles in his biceps rippling. "You're allowed in up to here."

I smiled, then realised he meant up to here in a literal sense: he was the boundary. As he raised his eyebrows, it became clear he wouldn't move, and I knew better than to argue with America's most dedicated lifeguard.

Instead, I spotted an opportunity to engage him in a discussion that might interest his stony self.

"So, these currents," I said. "Does their position change each day, or do they occupy the same part of the beach all the time?"

"Are you not capable of standing without speaking?" he asked, not appearing impressed that I'd trapped him into a conversation.

"Yes, I am capable. However, this interests me. We didn't learn much about oceans at school—you know, despite it being private, prestigious and very expensive."

I couldn't help but add that onto the end, hoping to show that I was in fact able to poke fun at my own background. Perhaps then he'd realise I wasn't as stuck up as he thought. It therefore made me much happier than it should have done when I saw the tiniest twitch of his lips.

"Wow. Some school."

"Obviously money can't buy everything, although I see you're wearing the sunglasses I got you."

Whenever I got close enough, I always checked to see if he was wearing the Ray-Bans. Most of the time, he was.

"Yeah." Brent adjusted the glasses that rested on top of his head. "They do the job."

I took a step forwards, diagonally away from him. He didn't miss a trick, though, and no sooner had my foot touched the sandy seabed, he'd grabbed my arm and tugged me back to my original position.

"I wasn't going further than you..."

"I'm not risking it. For once, will you do as you're told, please?"

I glanced down at where his hand gripped my arm. As if he'd forgotten he was touching me, Brent let go—quicker than necessary—and my skin tingled at the loss of contact.  

"Okay, will you teach me about currents, then, so I understand what I'm dealing with?" I asked, offering my sweetest smile.

He sighed, glancing around the beach as if looking for an escape. He couldn't, though. If he didn't want me to wander further, he wouldn't risk moving.

"Fine," he said, giving in. "So, rip currents are localised... You know what that means, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Posh school, remember?"

He furrowed his brow but continued. "So they're localised, but this position can change. Some will always occur in the same part of the beach and others will vary."

I nodded, taking this in. "Right, hence how you went out first to check."

"Exactly. They're usually narrow and run perpendicular to the beach, so straight out from the shore into the sea. That's why, if you're ever caught in one, you should swim parallel to the beach because eventually you'll exit the narrow stream and be back in calmer waters."

"Got it."

"You should never fight it or panic. It's like a treadmill; no matter how hard you try to go against the current, it's always going to be stronger and you'll run out of energy."

I thought back to the day Brent had rescued me. The shock of being dragged out to sea meant I'd instinctively struggled.

"It's tough not to panic when you're pulled under the water."

"They don't pull you under the water. They pull you out to sea. But if you're taken by surprise, then they can knock you off your feet, and struggling depletes your energy, which is what happened to you."

I swallowed a lump in my throat, acknowledging how ill-fated that day might have been if it weren't for Brent.

"How are they formed? Bad weather or...?"

"Are you familiar with sandbars?"

"Not really." Not at all, in fact. But I wasn't going to admit that after joking about my expensive school.

"It's a long but narrow ridge of sand on the seabed, created by the motion of the waves. Rip currents can occur when there's a gap in that sandbar. When the waves roll into the shore, they've got lots of power behind them, so that pushes the water over the sandbar. However, after the wave hits the shore, it loses its energy and the receding water isn't powerful enough to get back over the sandbar, which makes the water pile up."

I nodded, trying to visualise it in my head.

"Water likes to follow the path of least resistance. So, all that piled up water will rush back out to sea when there's a gap in the sandbar. Like a plug. When the plug is in the sink, the water has nowhere to escape, so it builds up. But when you pull out the plug, there's an escape route and all the water will be sucked into that hole. That's what happens with a rip current."

I gazed at the ocean. Despite the red flag, the water looked calm with nothing to suggest the presence of a rip current.

"You wouldn't think it was dangerous," I said.

"It's an illusion. The strong surface flow of the current can reduce the effect of incoming waves, which makes the water appear a lot calmer than it actually is—hence the regular red flag."

This was by far the longest conversation between Brent and me to date—and the most civil, too. With my toes beginning to feel numb from the cold water, I retreated to the beach. My appreciation for the ocean had soared, although with that also came a newfound apprehension at learning its power.

"Thank you," I said when my feet found the warm sand again.

Brent's eyes widened as he tilted his head to the side. For a second, I was offended that Brent thought so little of me that he was shocked every time I said thank you. Then I realised I'd mistaken his confusion for surprise.

"For what?" he asked.

"Teaching me how the ocean works."

"Maybe now you'll think twice before going swimming," he said with a casual shrug, as if it had been no big deal.

I smiled. "Or maybe I'll be safer swimming now I know how to escape the currents." Brent's eyes darkened as his brows pulled together. The dangerous look he gave me made my stomach tingle, and my smile faded. "Or maybe not," I added.

That seemed to satisfy him for the time being. He returned to his post, and I settled on my towel. Not another word was exchanged between us for the rest of the day, but that didn't matter. I'd managed to coerce a hostile lifeguard into a conversation, and that might turn out to be the highlight of my summer.

~~~

Thank you for reading :) xx

~~~