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Liam was indeed swimming at the bottom of the harbour, but he'd gone out beyond the breakwater, preferring to be out in more open water. His brother, uncle, aunt and a few friends were out working to repair the season's storm damage on the various squidding boats belonging to the Murray firm, but he'd opted to go for a swim instead. The last week had been a nightmare as he'd wrestled with his emotions, and the silence from Kate and Nora had not done his shattered nerves any favours. He had no idea what the two women would do to try and get him on side, but right now, all he had to concern himself with was getting to the surface before he ran out of air.
Even though, he liked the sensation of airlessness in his lungs, welcoming the pain as his diaphragm contracted, trying to force him to breathe, bubbles bursting from his mouth and nose with each spasm, the pain and pressure growing unbearable until he had no choice but to surface before he drowned. Often he had to spit out seawater once his head was above water, but the briny, salty taste was another reminder that he was still alive. Life was bitter, but he had no desire to give it up. If he did, he thought wryly, as he took another deep breath and dived to the bottom, Kate and Nora would probably break the gates of hell (or heaven) open, and drag him back into the land of the living kicking and screaming. And he didn't want to give them any ammunition.
After several dives, he rolled over onto his back and looked up at the sky, watching the high clouds scud across the azure surface in a stiff breeze. Winter was well on its way, and Liam could already smell the tang of rain in the air. Another savage storm was on its way; already the ocean had grown more turbulent, and Liam knew it wouldn't be long before the squidding fleet would have to go into dry docking to avoid more damage. Each boat was built to withstand even the most savage of storms, but even Iseult had admitted a sustained battering such as her fleet had sustained was enough to make her realise a dry dock was a sensible idea for winter. She'd put too much time into making her great-grandfather's company a worldwide househould name to let her boats get destroyed in bad weather; there were smaller, independent squidders who'd be eager to take over some of the territory she'd (legally and morally) gained over the last few years, and Liam knew his mother was quite fiercely protective of her work and the results it had gained. If she had to spend the extra money for dry docking, she'd beggar herself to make sure her fleet was protected.
A wave slapped Liam in the face, bringing him back to the present, and he went under with a gurgle. He twisted about, flailing, unsure of which way was up, lungs burning, but he soon broke the surface and spat out yet another mouthful of seawater. The sky had grown alarmingly dark, the approaching storm developing with a frightning swiftness that had grown all too familiar over the last few weeks. Liam wasn't too worried about being in the middle of the ocean during a storm, but he knew his mother always got the shakes whenever her eldest diced with danger in this manner, and now, more than ever, he knew he had to curtail his daredevil activities until Kate and Nora's threat had passed. She knew, of course, that he didn't intend to take his own life despite the pain that had been dogging him for the last week, but Liam had the good sense to know his mother would prefer him to spend his time at the bottom of the pool, or the lake, and not out in the middle of the ocean with yet another storm breaking.
But that didn't stop him from diving beneath the waves, letting them toss him about until he felt like a sock in a washing machine. But as he fought his way to the surface after every dunking, dizzy and out of air, he let the thrill of danger run along his veins, letting the waves lift him up and dump him on the ocean floor, driving all the air from his lungs and leaving him with no air, causing him to swallow more than his fair share of the ocean. But he wasn't afraid, even when he got slammed down by wave after wave, giving him almost no chance to get in a good breath before he went under again. This was life, this struggle for survival, for the chance to get some air before being shoved underwater again, and by the time he crossed the breakwater, his blood was tingling with the thrill of having diced with death and come out on top. All the same, he was glad to climb onto The Clodagh, where Calum was waiting with a towel. This time, however, he refrained from chiding his nephew, and Liam silently thanked his uncle for his tact. Calum knew him almost as well as his mother did, and Liam knew that this afternoon's jaunt would be kept a steadfast secret from Iseult. It was not a wise idea to keep things from one's mother, but when it was a form of stress relief that healed him like nothing else, Liam decided that this was one secret worth keeping.79Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJfDixhnXVc
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