My tyres screech as I pull up into the car park. This spare afternoon before I flew home was an annoyance. Posy’s young face floats across my face, her feverishly glassy eyes and pathetic expression. I had to leave her under the care of implacable Gertrude who sits by Posy’s bedside giving her weak chicken soup and constantly scratching at her disgusting moustache. Shuddering inwardly I walk briskly to the look out.
I stare over the cosmic expanse of water shimmering with constant movement. I know it should seem calming but it isn’t, not for me.
Its serenity hides something darker, deeper, more sinister.
I’ve been to this beach before.
***
A plane roared overhead, accompanied by the squawking of seagulls, the waves crashed in and out, and the sun was shining with a strength of intent seen infrequently. It was a beautiful day. I curled my tongue around my pink ice-cream savouring the taste. I could feel a drip of it rolling down my chin, dribbling down into a sticky pool on my tee-shirt. My mother sat on the bench beside me, her eyes were closed and she was smiling as the salty smell of the sea was carried up to us on the wind. I crunched the cone with satisfaction as I finished my ice-cream.
With a sigh I stared up into the sky. The clouds were puffy and white. They looked like my rabbit, Brambles.
I tugged on her sleeve.
‘Mum.’ Her eyes remained closed.
‘Mum?’
‘Mum!’
Her eyes opened languidly in a slow flutter.
‘Yes darling?’
‘Can I swim now?’ She paused a moment.
‘Pleeeeease?’ Her fingers massaged her forehead.
‘Alright.’ She took a minute to gather her paraphernalia. I jumped from one foot to another laughing. I loved pink, ice-cream, and rabbits but more than anything else in the world I loved swimming.
I ripped off my tee-shirt and revealed my swimmers (pink, of course) and laughing I ran towards the water.
‘Careful, sweetheart,’ my mother called from behind me.
But I didn’t need to be careful.
I ran into the waves, I felt my arms prickle with goosebumps. I took a deep breath and plunged under the water. I am a mermaid, a shiny green mermaid and I will stay in these cool pools for ever and ever. I surfaced momentarily shaking my hair out of my face. I laughed and was still laughing as I dove under again. I could hear my laugh distorted into bubbles of sound. I floated up above the waves again. As I looked around I could see a hulking wave approaching. I was thrilled. I could catch it into shore. I will be like a mermaid. She will be so impressed. I will be so brave. I began to paddle frantically, but I gathered no momentum. And so I was pulled under by the strength of the sea. It swirled around me. I had always imagined that being in a washing machine would be fun, quicker than a bath. No more did I suffer under that illusion. The rushing and roaring of the ocean filled my ears.
My lungs began to burn, red hot.
Panic swept over me.
Was I suffocating?
Perhaps I would never breathe again.
I would die here,
In this unforgiving place.
And as quickly as it began it ended. I could feel the sand against my face, in my eyes as I landed on the edge of the water. I gasped for breath, my heart beating as loud as a drum in my ears, drowning out any other sounds.
The first thing I could hear was the babble of excited chatter, and then the ocean murmuring, with some unknown force compelling the waves to advance a little and then retreat. I combed my fingers through my hair trying to get it out of my face. I sat at the edge of the sea shaking a little.
I waded out till the water was out my knees and played with white foam, watched my hands being contorted by the ripple of the waves. I skirted the edges of the waves skittishly.
Altogether, though, I was glad to be leaving, as I stumbled up the beach holding my mother’s hand, my legs still shaking a little.
In the car on the way home I watched the towel that was tucked around me turn from pink to crimson, from dry to drenched. The stench of the sea clung to me, the identifiable scent of rotting sea weed and salt. Wrinkling my nose with distaste I opened the window and tried to let some fresh air in, but it was all poisoned with the scent of salt.

***
I can still smell it now. That unappetising salty edge to the air. It makes me feel a little nauseous every time I smell it. I live inland now. Far away from the sea. With its menacing air and destructive intent. And all encompassing brackish odour. It’s like another world, this place. A place so full of cruel and taloned beauty.
I sigh, and drive away, to my own sweet smelling child.