The Tide of Change - Short Story by M Graeme

The Tide of Change

Michael Graeme

It had been a long, hot day on the beach and I was just closing my shop on the promenade when, at the last minute, the little bell sounded and an elderly gentleman walked in.

"Ah,... hello, Dad," I said. "I was thinking you were another customer."

My father laughed. "Trade's been good then?"

"It's always good," I said, rising to his humour. But then trade was never a problem in the summer - and in the off season, there was always the little restaurant in town to keep me going,...

My father's face grew serious. "But you're still for selling up?"

At once his words began to stir the guilt in me, as if I were still his little boy. "I reckon it's for the best, Dad. Time to be movin' on. There's a whole world out there, you know."

"I still think it's a waste," he said. Then he turned and shrugged as if that were an end to the matter - but I knew him better and I sighed in frustration. Could he not see my mind was made up?

He gazed out through the window at the long stretch of the beach. It was all but empty now of the tourists with their deck-chairs and their gaily coloured windbreaks.

"It's got the makings of a fine evening," he said. "I fancy some air. Will you walk with me to the Point?"

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The Point is the name we locals have for the long bar of rock at the far end of the bay. It was always a special place for me, and my earliest memories are of sitting out there with my father, listening to the waves and simply gazing out into the unknown.

He had been a fisherman then. The bay had been a haven for working boats, and all the holiday cottages that now sat upon on the hill had been homes to generations of families, all of them making a living from the sea,...

"Times have changed," he said, as I walked with him.

"They have for sure" I replied. Then, after a while my father turned to me slowly and said:

"I hear there was some trouble on the beach yesterday."

"Trouble?"

"The fella's up at O'Bryan's were telling me. The Guards were involved, they said."

I looked at him and saw there was a half smile on his lips. He had been leading me on and knew full well I'd been mixed up in it myself. "Is that was this is about?" I said.

He shrugged once more in that easy way of his, as if to say it didn't matter and then very quietly he said: "I hear it was the Cogan girl."

I nodded. "Yes. It was Maeve."

When we reached the point, we took our familiar places among the rocks. A stiff wind was stroking lines of silver across the ocean and a bank of incoming cloud was painting the horizon a steely grey. It had been different yesterday, warmer, the sun lingering until late in the evening, tempting a handful of tourists to bide a while longer on the beach.

I'd hung on in the shop, but the trade had eased off and I was shutting up when I noticed a group of people way out by the sea, their forms barely visible in the shimmering air above the hot sand. I wondered if it was a Dolphin or some other poor creature that had been washed up and was attracting so much attention, so I thought I'd take a look myself.

As I drew nearer I realised someone had driven their car right out to the edge of the sea. It was a big thing, one of those family cruisers, and it was loaded up to the windows with holiday gear - bags and boxes and beach towels - and it was sunk axle deep in the sand. The driver was revving the engine and the wheels were spinning, sending up a great shower of sand, but the car just kept digging itself in deeper and deeper,...

My father laughed cruelly at the thought of it. "That'd be Shaun. They always said the man didn't have much sense."

I hadn't recognised Shaun at first. Everyone was talking at the same time, leaning their shoulders against the car, pushing it this way and that,... and getting nowhere. Then I looked up and there was Maeve, her eyes restless with worry,... and clinging to her were two infant boys, their fresh young faces pink with the sun.

"It was seeing her like that," I said, "with her children, that made me realise how much time had passed since she'd married Shaun and gone away."

"A long time since you were at school together, that's for sure."

Yes, I thought, a long time since those carefree days of bubble gum cards and swapping marbles in the playground. And it seemed that throughout my memories of that time, there had run a thread of warmth and companionship,... for Maeve and I had always been the best of friends.

My father sighed. "You know, as the two of you grew up there were those who said you'd make a fine couple,...."

"I know. And weren't you the one always telling me that yourself?" I laughed, but felt my heart grow heavy at the mention of it. "I don't think Maeve ever thought of me in that way though."

"But it was different with you," he said.

I shrugged. "I could never tell her how I felt, Dad. I didn't want to spoil things between us, you see? And I know it might sound foolish but I always thought that if it was meant to be, then one day she'd just look at me,... and know."

My father shook his head. "That's not so foolish, lad." Then he laughed bitterly. "So she goes and marries Shaun?"

"Ah, he's not such a bad fella."

My father pulled his face. "You're too generous," he said. "The man's a buffoon."

________

But Shaun always had a winning way with him. I remember when he first came to the bay, long ago. I hadn't owned the shop more than a week, when he called in for cigarettes - a smart looking fellow, I'd thought. He was just passing through, he'd said - on his way into town and he asked me if there was anything going on that night worth his hanging around for.

"There's a dance," I says. "Nothing fancy, but I hear the band's very good."

"Thank's," he says. "I'll give it a go."

Of course, it was at the dance that he met Maeve. The first I knew of it was when I looked up from the bar to see him leading her across the floor. He danced well. Fairly soon the pair of them had the whole room looking on. And all I could do was watch as, gradually, she began to look at him in that way I'd always dreamed she'd one day look at me.

I think she'd known from that night Shaun was her man and gradually, I felt the thread of warmth and companionship between us dissolving. She'd still call me up and we'd chat but there was a distance between us now.

It was to be expected, I suppose, and I didn't blame her, but somehow through my disappointment, my plans for the shop and my schemes for taking over the old cafe on main-street didn't fill me with the same enthusiasm as they had before. The bay seemed to be changing so quickly. Everyone I'd grown up with was moving on,... and now Maeve was going too. What was I doing still hanging around myself?

Standing there that day on the beach, with all the fuss going on over the car, I faced Maeve across the years like we were strangers. She broke out of her trance when she recognised me.

"Oh, hi," she said. "You're still living around here?"

It was a bitter pill, but I know she hadn't meant it that way. "I am," I said. "And you're still in Dublin?"

"Yes. Came back for a holiday. We're going home tonight, if we ever get the car out."

She was still a handsome woman and I noticed her eyes had retained the same precious innocence that had enchanted me, so long ago. Life with Shaun had not hardened her, then. I had been right, whatever people thought of him - and I had cursed him myself many times - he was a good man and Maeve had known that from the beginning.

"You might be wiser getting your stuff out and up the beach." I told her. She didn't understand at first so I glanced down at the sand where the sea was already lapping at our toes. "Tide's turned," I said.

Maeve swung into action then, breaking up the scrum of helpers around the car and organising them into carrying the luggage and the buckets and spades and the other holiday paraphernalia, from the car. Meanwhile, I knelt beside her boys and gave them a wink. They responded with a shy smile and I told them not to worry.

"Tell you what, lads," I said. "I think I know a fella who can help." Then I took out my 'phone and called the Guard.

Later, I stayed with Shaun, sitting on the bonnet of the car, the pair of us looking on with the water lapping around the hubcaps as Maeve and the children stood on the dry sand, further up the beach. And to me it seemed that with each wave the tide was for ever stretching out the distance between us.

"Still living here then?" said Shaun.

I took a deep breath. "That's right. I'm thinking of moving on though."

"Anywhere interesting?"

I shrugged. "Thought maybe I'd go to London."

"No firm plans then."

I shook my head. No, I had no plans, just a vague notion of setting up shop in a different town, as far away as possible,... and in the process somehow catching up with the world.

Meanwhile the tide rose higher, and I was starting to think we'd have to abandon the car when Shaun tossed his head back in frustration. "I feel like such a idiot," he said.

"You've no reason to," I told him. "Take a look over there. You have a good woman and a couple of fine children. No one could accuse you of being an idiot."

Anyway,... Guard Logan turned up with his Landrover in the nick of time and towed us out before the sea was able to do much harm. Then I helped Shaun and Maeve pack their stuff before waving them off. And as I watched them drive up the promenade, I couldn't help thinking it was me who was the idiot. Looking at the pair of them with their children seemed to heighten the sense that the years were flashing by, while for me, here, time had pretty much stood still.

My father shook his head slowly. "Is that what you really think?" he said. "But look at this place? Weren't we saying only a moment ago how much it's changed? It used to be the mackerel that fed us,... now its the tourists and those little hi-tech businesses on the outskirts of town,... Why, you're a successful businessman, yourself. You've made more changes here than anyone." He paused to look at me. "Or is there more to this than your saying?"

I couldn't answer, for in truth I did not know. "Come on," I said. "I'll buy you drink at O'Bryan's, if you promise we won't talk about it any more."

________

By now a few of the locals had come out to reclaim the beach for themselves and they hailed us from afar as they strolled by, taking the evening air. Heading back to the promenade, a woman crossed our path on her way down to the sea. She was dressed in a wet-suit and she had a fluorescent surfboard tucked under her arm.

She gave us a smile. "Hello. How are you?" she said.

I nodded back in greeting. "Hello yourself. And how's business?"

"Oh, fine - you?"

"Can't complain."

"Well - be seeing you,..."

My father was intrigued. "Do I know her?" he said, afterwards.

"Ah, she's just opened that surf-shop on the promenade. Surfing's becoming very popular here these days, pulling in people from all over the country -and abroad too. I wish I'd thought of it myself."

"She didn't sound local," he said.

"She's from Australia - name's Karen, I think. She's a good head on her. She'll do well."

My father stopped and gazed after her in astonishment. "She came all the way from Australia to set up a surf-shop here?"

Later in O'Bryan's, as we settled over a beer, he continued to reflect on our brief encounter with Karen.

"Australia!" he mused. And then with a sly twinkle in his eye he said: "Sure, it sounds so exotic and far away, doesn't it? As exotic and far away as the west coast of Ireland must have sounded to her, I suppose."

He drained his glass. "She was a good looking woman," he went on. "How come you never mentioned her before? Is she married do you know?"

Later, as we strolled home, I began thinking on what he'd said, his words finally acting like a slow medicine in my head. Unless you knew what you were looking for, you had as much chance of finding it in one place as you had anywhere else. Karen had crossed the globe searching for something and found it right here, where I'd lived all my life. Maeve had gone to be with her man, others had gone for work, but all of them with a goal in mind - a clarity of purpose, not simply out of a fear that life was passing them by. Perhaps, after all, I was the lucky one. I was doing just fine right here,...

I felt my steps becoming lighter. I smelled the sea upon the night air and I breathed deeply of it, swallowing it down to the depths of my soul. Then I smiled and clapped my hand upon my father's shoulder.

"Sure, I said. "It's not such a bad little place is it?"

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~ First published August 2000 ~

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m_graeme@yahoo.co.uk