Finding Home by Kate Field (read book .txt) 📗

‘A map? Oh Mim, you’ve not decided to go home after all, have you? I hope you haven’t had second thoughts about Janet. Corin said you handled her wonderfully well.’

‘No, I just need to go shopping and I don’t want to get lost,’ Mim said.

‘Oh, you don’t need to bother with that. Waitrose delivers.’

Mim chose a piece of lemon drizzle.

‘I can’t afford Waitrose,’ she said.

‘Ah yes, I didn’t think.’ Bea sipped her tea. ‘Well, I’m sure there must be some other supermarkets in Sidmouth. Ask Mrs Dennis. She’ll know the best places to go. But don’t buy any vegetables. The garden produces more than enough for everyone.’

‘I couldn’t—’

‘Nonsense.’ Bea cut off the protest. ‘Bobby delivers a box to all the family. I’ll ask him to add the caravan to his list.’ She leant forward as Mim picked up a biscuit. ‘Forgive me for asking, my dear, but you did have breakfast this morning, didn’t you?’

‘No. But I will do, once I’ve been shopping.’ Mim couldn’t wait. She’d longed for a bowl of warm porridge every morning when she woke up in the car. Tomorrow she would have some and it would seem like the biggest treat in the world. Bea reached over and gave her hand a brief squeeze.

‘Make sure you do. Come over for supper tonight. Mrs Dennis is making a casserole and there will be far too much for the two of us. You must come. We don’t want you wasting away.’

Armed with an old road map from Bea and directions to the nearest discount supermarket from Mrs Dennis, Mim spent the next few hours eking out what cash she could spare on basic food rations and essential cleaning products. She then cleaned the caravan from top to bottom, until every cobweb and speck of dust was gone and every surface sparkled. It was good to get stuck into some hard work again, after too many idle days living out of her car.

After a day of physical labour, she woke up the next morning longing to have a swim, to loosen her muscles and free her thoughts. It was Thursday tomorrow, her first day working for Janet, and the long shift in the shop and the pub would leave her with no time to swim for the next four days. Corin had advised her to take Lia, but that was impossible now that Lia had gone off on holiday. She looked out of the big bay window at the front of the caravan. It was a grey but dry day, and the branches of the trees in the field were barely moving. There wasn’t even the hint of a storm, as far as she could tell. She was a strong swimmer. She’d be perfectly safe on her own, wouldn’t she?

Twenty minutes later, she was on the beach, shivering in a towel and wondering whether she should have listened to Corin’s suggestion that she borrow a wetsuit. Her old swimming costume offered little protection from the cold air that grazed her bare shoulders and sent goose bumps racing up her legs. There was more of a breeze down here on the shore than she’d anticipated and she watched the sea for a few minutes, trying to assess the size and strength of the waves, but without much idea. It wasn’t calm but it didn’t seem rough either. There was only one way to find out.

She packed the towel in the bag with her clothes, hoping that no one would steal her car keys, and picked her way over the stones to the water’s edge. An incoming wave licked her toes and she shuddered at the temperature of the water, but it spurred her on; the sooner she was swimming, the sooner she would warm up. She clenched her fists and waded forward, gasping as the waves hit her thighs, until the water reached her waist and she ducked down and started swimming.

It wasn’t like the swimming she’d been used to at the leisure centre in Burnley, and not only because the water was so cold. It was strange to taste the salt as the water touched her lips, rather than the chlorine. She felt more buoyant here than she did in the swimming pool too. The waves were stronger than they had appeared from the beach, and tried to buffet her back to the shore. She swam on, parallel to the beach, relishing the challenge and the feeling of power that came with each stroke forward. She loved every second. She had never felt more alive.

Then, as she paused and looked back to see if it was time to turn round, a sharp spasm of cramp pulled at the calf muscle in her right leg. She doubled over and a fierce wave caught her off guard, splashing over her head and into her ears. She scrabbled to put her feet down, but she was further out than she’d realised and slipped forward, swallowing a mouthful of water, before another large wave rushed over her back, pushing her down below the surface. She kicked her left leg and fought to reach the surface again, but her throat was burning with the sea water, her lungs were straining with the effort of not breathing, and as her limbs tired, she felt herself sinking lower down rather than rising up. Everything started to turn black.

She couldn’t hold her breath for a second longer. She had no energy left to kick. This was it. The glorious new life she’d glimpsed here, the promise of a future so much brighter than her past, was over before it had begun. But as the panic faded away and Mim was filled with a peaceful acceptance of her fate, she felt a tug across her shoulders. Her head breached the water and she gasped in huge gulps of air as she was towed back to the beach and deposited on the pebbles.

Mim lay still for a moment, relishing the discomfort