from the sea that stretched out before her, a vast never ending blanket of black. Her fingers lingered on the sprig-patterned curtains, feeling the tiny bunches of lavender embroidered beneath her touch.
‘Off for a walk?’ Tom enquired as she trotted past the kitchen. Tanya nodded.
‘Well it’s a beautiful day out there. And at least you won’t have to rush back for lunch. How many pancakes have you put away, girl? You must have hollow legs!’
He shook his head in genuine astonishment.
‘Thank you for teaching me how to make lasagne, Tom. It didn’t taste too bad, did it?’
He laughed, wondering how they had got on to that topic.
‘You’re welcome, love. Between you and me, I was a little bit worried for me job – it tasted superb. You’re a natural!’
The cliffside path leading down to the beach from Prospect House was sheer and precarious. It meandered down the steep slope like a giant snake, with no apparent logic to its route. Rotting, half-buried steps punctuated its course and tufts of coarse grass grew at the edges in thick, ankle-turning clumps. Tanya’s smooth-soled sneakers skidded and slipped on the loose stones, making her stumble then wobble until she regained her balance. She removed her shoes and held them aloft in her right hand, as though protecting them from further scuffing. An image of herself tumbling off the cliff, limbs flailing, filled her head. That would be just typical of her life – nothing ever going according to plan. Though the note in her pocket would apply just the same.
When the path finally flattened out and the stones gave way to sand, Tanya’s faltering steps turned into strides. The beach was empty. She ran the last few metres with a smile on her face as the salt-tinged breeze lifted her fringe and buffeted her chest.
Tanya shrugged her arms through her cardigan and folded it neatly with arm holes and hems together, before placing it on the sand. Next she slipped out of her jeans, which she placed with precision on top of her cardigan. She unhooked her bra and let the straps fall along her thin arms, and finally she stepped out of her pants. Her clothes sat in a neat little pile, like laundry waiting to be collected and put away on wash day. On top of her discarded apparel she placed her room and front door keys; just beneath them she positioned the pale cream envelope, twisting it to make sure it was clearly visible. She was done. She turned her face skywards and savoured the rays of sunshine that pierced the Mediterranean blue of the day. It was quite exquisite to feel the warmth on her naked skin.
Tanya stopped as she approached the water and winced in sudden pain. A small shard of glass, not yet smoothed into opaque sea glass, had sunk into the white flesh of her sole. She lifted the foot onto her opposite knee, gripped the tiny splinter and prised it free. A trickle of blood ran thick and red down her bare leg but she didn’t try to stem its flow; it mattered little compared to the journey she was about to undertake. She wasn’t sure why she had even bothered to remove it; what did it matter? A second or two of foot pain meant nothing in the grander scheme of things.
She walked forward to the dark shadow on the sand where the water lapped, staining it the colour of dark tea and pitting it with fizzing holes in which small worms and crabs bathed.
Tanya trod gingerly, feeling the shock of the icy current on her exposed flesh. It was her first time in the sea and wasn’t quite the warm bath that she had anticipated. She took tiny, cautious steps at first, until she was knee deep. Then she found her courage and strode further out.
She allowed the tiny waves to lap her with their salty tongues. She turned and faced the shore, stepping slowly backwards until the sea covered her shoulders. Her teeth chattered in her gums and her limbs jerked involuntarily, trying to counter the effects of the cold.
She gazed up to the top of the cliff for one last look at Prospect House. This was the one place that she had been happy, the one place she had been comfortable and felt wanted. She pictured the shiny bathroom, remembered the comfort of her clean, white bed and its blanket tucked around her shoulders on chilly nights. Her heart had ached