chin, lifting her face towards him. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her again, and she parted her lips a little. But he paused, eyes glittering as he studied her face, looking right down into her soul.
‘Imagine it. Imagine how it would feel to walk along this beach in the first light of dawn, rain clouds rolling in, with that sort of power flowing through you.’
Kim hesitated, her eyes flickering briefly towards the grey water. A chill ran through her as she looked at the dark shapes half submerged by the mud. She glanced back at him.
‘I’m not sure I can …’
‘Try.’ His voice was soft, but commanding, kindling her desire to submit. ‘Try for me now …’
And she did. She pushed her thoughts out along the shoreline, picturing a faceless stranger, imagining how it might feel to be so in control, not just of herself but of another; glimpsing what it would take to embrace such a terrible act and such terrible power. She felt the adrenalin tingling in her body, the fear, but also something more.
He smiled.
‘Do you understand what I’m talking about?’
Kim stood there, locked in his gaze. She swallowed slightly and nodded. Her eyes broke free of his and turned to look down at the reeds, which had begun to sway in the wind.
This was where it had happened.
It had to be. And this was his way of telling her, she felt certain of it. Suddenly she wanted to know, wanted to be sure.
‘Who was he?’ She spoke quietly but her words echoed in her head as she stared out across the beach.
Naysmith inclined his head slightly to one side.
‘Who was who?’ He wasn’t going to make it easy for her, but she couldn’t stop now. She bit her lip, and forced herself to say it.
‘The person who you …’ She hesitated. ‘The person who … was here.’
Naysmith stared at her coolly, holding her eyes for a long time without saying anything. She felt the blood draining from her as she realised he wasn’t denying it, that she was right, that it
had
happened here. Then he turned away from her, to gaze out at a line of reeds on the silver mud.
‘Who said it was a “he”?’ he asked softly.
Kim’s stomach lurched.
Without looking at her, he took her hand and led her back towards the car.
12
Sunday,
15
June
He must be asleep by now. Lying on her right side, keeping her body perfectly still, she listened carefully to his breathing, which had settled to a slow, regular rhythm. Facing towards the middle of the bed made her nervous, but if she had turned her back to him he might have fallen asleep with his arm thrown across her, his body spooning hers. This way was better.
Cautiously, she let her eyelids flicker open, just a little at first, as she fought to make sense of the shapes in the darkness. Looking across the soft curve of her pillow, she could make out the side of his head, silhouetted against the faint blue glow from the alarm clock behind him. Unblinking, her gaze bored into the shadow where she knew his eyes must be, searching for a glint, the slightest movement, anything that might indicate he was watching her.
But there was nothing.
As she grew accustomed to the gloom, she began to make out his features, so familiar to her, now so fearfully close. His eyes were definitely shut. She watched them for a moment, afraid that they might snap open, terrified that he might glimpse the doubt in her heart, but he slept on.
Good.
She listened to his breathing for a little longer, then slowly began to roll herself away from him, gradually easing over onto her back, trying not to disturb the duvet as she slid out from under it.
Reaching the point where she had to turn her head away from him, she strained to hear his breathing, measuring out the rhythm, searching for the tiniest change, but it remained steady. Her shoulder emerged from the side of the duvet, followed by one of her legs. She was balanced on the edge of the bed now, but she had to take it slowly, try and position herself
‘Imagine it. Imagine how it would feel to walk along this beach in the first light of dawn, rain clouds rolling in, with that sort of power flowing through you.’
Kim hesitated, her eyes flickering briefly towards the grey water. A chill ran through her as she looked at the dark shapes half submerged by the mud. She glanced back at him.
‘I’m not sure I can …’
‘Try.’ His voice was soft, but commanding, kindling her desire to submit. ‘Try for me now …’
And she did. She pushed her thoughts out along the shoreline, picturing a faceless stranger, imagining how it might feel to be so in control, not just of herself but of another; glimpsing what it would take to embrace such a terrible act and such terrible power. She felt the adrenalin tingling in her body, the fear, but also something more.
He smiled.
‘Do you understand what I’m talking about?’
Kim stood there, locked in his gaze. She swallowed slightly and nodded. Her eyes broke free of his and turned to look down at the reeds, which had begun to sway in the wind.
This was where it had happened.
It had to be. And this was his way of telling her, she felt certain of it. Suddenly she wanted to know, wanted to be sure.
‘Who was he?’ She spoke quietly but her words echoed in her head as she stared out across the beach.
Naysmith inclined his head slightly to one side.
‘Who was who?’ He wasn’t going to make it easy for her, but she couldn’t stop now. She bit her lip, and forced herself to say it.
‘The person who you …’ She hesitated. ‘The person who … was here.’
Naysmith stared at her coolly, holding her eyes for a long time without saying anything. She felt the blood draining from her as she realised he wasn’t denying it, that she was right, that it
had
happened here. Then he turned away from her, to gaze out at a line of reeds on the silver mud.
‘Who said it was a “he”?’ he asked softly.
Kim’s stomach lurched.
Without looking at her, he took her hand and led her back towards the car.
12
Sunday,
15
June
He must be asleep by now. Lying on her right side, keeping her body perfectly still, she listened carefully to his breathing, which had settled to a slow, regular rhythm. Facing towards the middle of the bed made her nervous, but if she had turned her back to him he might have fallen asleep with his arm thrown across her, his body spooning hers. This way was better.
Cautiously, she let her eyelids flicker open, just a little at first, as she fought to make sense of the shapes in the darkness. Looking across the soft curve of her pillow, she could make out the side of his head, silhouetted against the faint blue glow from the alarm clock behind him. Unblinking, her gaze bored into the shadow where she knew his eyes must be, searching for a glint, the slightest movement, anything that might indicate he was watching her.
But there was nothing.
As she grew accustomed to the gloom, she began to make out his features, so familiar to her, now so fearfully close. His eyes were definitely shut. She watched them for a moment, afraid that they might snap open, terrified that he might glimpse the doubt in her heart, but he slept on.
Good.
She listened to his breathing for a little longer, then slowly began to roll herself away from him, gradually easing over onto her back, trying not to disturb the duvet as she slid out from under it.
Reaching the point where she had to turn her head away from him, she strained to hear his breathing, measuring out the rhythm, searching for the tiniest change, but it remained steady. Her shoulder emerged from the side of the duvet, followed by one of her legs. She was balanced on the edge of the bed now, but she had to take it slowly, try and position herself
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