Fiction Point Episode Ten: The old man and the cold sea

The wind swept across the beach from east to west, cooling the skin, rippling the sand and watering our eyes. But even on the hottest day of the year, the North sea was cold, and kept the kids from playing too long in the water. My wife warned me about putting sun cream on my face, whilst pointing at an old man in the sea, who held a young girl in his arms, swinging her gently through the waves. ‘It might be his last wish,’ she said, ‘to go in the sea and hold his grand-daughter.’ Then I turned away to check on our own two kids, who were lying flat in a channel flowing down to the sea.

‘Oh look,’ my wife said, ‘he’s still got his trousers on.’

And the old man, with his wrinkled body, slowly waded out on to the beach. We watched him tread like a robot with iron feet, little by little, back up to the beach huts. He then disappeared behind a giant ice-cream cone. My wife wondered: would he shut his eyes for the last time, content he’d had his last moments with his favourite grandchild. ‘It’s like the cycle of birth and death,’ she said, ‘and he’s had his last wish.’

In the heat, laughing, splashing, screaming all around, we noticed a younger man, shouting at the sea: ‘Danielle… Danielle! Danielle… Danielle!’ This time my wife’s instincts changed.

‘I can tell,’ she said, ‘he’s lost his child.’

Although I was reticent, and said we should wait and see, my wife insisted we should help; she could tell by his face, he was desperate. And soon a crowd had gathered, offering to search the beach, search in the sea, call the police.

I kept my children by my side, wrapped them in their towels, and explained a little girl called Danielle was lost, and mummy was helping the policeman because we had seen an old man playing with a little girl in the sea. They wanted to know if they could go back into the water and cried when I said it was too late. I gave them a drink, a cookie each, and told them how much mummy and daddy loved them both.

I stayed in the car with our children who had fallen asleep. The beach was lit by powerful arc lights all the way down to the sea. A police tent went up, an ambulance came, and parents gave statements, including my wife.

And back in the car, ready to drive home, she whispered to me, so as not to wake the children.

‘They found a little girl who drowned,’ she said, ‘but no one says they saw an old man in the cold sea…’

END

Simon Marlowe 26th August 2019