‘Okay then.’ Emil walked across to their diving-off point.
‘. . . Is that a good idea?’ she called, as he positioned himself at the edge, peering down into the endless blue.
He gave her a quizzical glance. ‘I’m not ten.’
The crew, sprawled on the nets, chuckled. They were resting, some of them napping, before the inevitable exertions of the journey home.
‘No, but – I mean . . .’ She didn’t want to say it out loud, to make a big thing of it in front of the other men. ‘You don’t want to get a headache.’
‘I’ve already got a headache. I always have a headache.’
For some reason, this prompted another laugh, and before she could protest further he sprang forward, his body like a blade. It was a good dive, and he popped up seconds later to cheers, but she thought she saw the minute tightening of the muscles across his face.
‘Let’s do it together!’ Linus cried, fast crawling back to the boat.
‘Okay, sure.’
‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’ she asked again, quietly, as he went to swim past.
‘Bell, what are you, the fun police? I’m having fun with my son. Could you let it be?’
‘I’m just worried –’
‘Well, don’t be. I’m not your concern.’ He blinked at her, droplets on his face.
‘All right. Whatever,’ she mumbled, kicking away and watching as he swam to catch up with his son. He was right. She was overreacting to everything, as jumpy as a cat.
She watched as they went again and again, trying different combinations of dives and jumps – screwdrivers, penguins, backward dives, bombs, side dives, tucks, pikes, bellyflops . . . She knew the impacts were making Emil’s head ring, she could see it on his face every time he surfaced, in that split second as he gasped for air before he could ready a smile. But he was right. She wasn’t his keeper. He was a grown man who could manage the risks to himself, a father going to any lengths to bond with his son.
It was working, too. She saw it in the way Linus maintained eye contact as he talked now, his laugh was readier, he was hungrier; crucially, he was getting a bit cheekier as he became more relaxed.
‘Bell!’ They were both looking at her. ‘Jump with us.’
‘Really?’ she asked sceptically. She’d been treading water for ages and was a little chilled, her skin wrinkling quickly. But she swam over and climbed out. ‘So what are we doing?’
‘You choose,’ Linus said. ‘We can’t think of any more.’
She thought for a moment. ‘Well, I guess we could try the spinning top.’
‘The what?’ Emil frowned.
‘I’ve only done it as a two before, but I’m sure it’ll work as a three. We just need to make sure we jump out far enough. We jump in as a circle, but spinning.’
His frown deepened. ‘Spinning?’
‘It’s important to hold on tight or it’ll break up when we enter the water. So hold your arms out and clasp mine, at the elbow there –’ She held hers out and felt his hand grip her upper forearm. ‘Linus?’ She looked across to join up on the other side, but she had only a split second to process his mischievous face as his hands shot forward and pushed both of them off the boat.
There wasn’t even time to scream as she and Emil landed side-on in the water, instantly surrounded by millions of tiny bubbles hissing and fizzing around them that cleared as quickly as they’d come. For a moment – just one – his face was all she could see in the deep blue sea, his sad eyes not hidden for once by the armour of his shades. Away from the crew’s chatter and Linus’s over-excitement and the billionaire boat, there was just peace and stillness as they looked at each other underwater. No distraction, no filters, no hiding.
The air in their lungs made them buoyant and they popped up to the surface, the real world coming back into full colour and sound.
‘Linus!’ she hollered, remembering her indignation. ‘You are a cheeky monkey!’
The weather was fully on the turn. It was still bright and warm, but the wind had picked up and the clear skies had become heavier through the afternoon, the razor-line of the horizon now blurred into indistinction.
Mats didn’t like the look of it and had ordered the crew to get ready to set sail again. Bell was sunbathing on a towel; she didn’t need to tan, but it gave her an