Free Out of the Blue by Val Rutt Page B

in the rhythm of walking and the sound of his voice. It was rich and mellow and confident, and every word he spoke told her that he
loved her. He told her about how, the spring before he’d left for England, he’d built a cabin near the river with his father, his Uncle Joe and his cousins Hal and Bobbie. They had
hauled the wood across three fields and built it from scratch. He reckoned his pa and Uncle Joe had it all planned out as a getaway for extended fishing trips but his Ma and Aunt Sue had other
ideas. When the cabin was finished, the two families had a picnic by the river. There was Sammy and his parents, his sister Annie and baby brother Little Joe, and Aunt Sue and Uncle Joe and Hal and
Bobbie. It was a hot day and, while the women unpacked the food, everyone else swam.
    Sammy broke from his story to ask Kitty if she could swim. She told him that she could. She had never spoken before of her only memory of her father, but she told it to Sammy. Kitty remembered
running across the hard flat sand holding her father’s hand. And how he had swung her up into his arms and carried her into the sea. She could still feel the shock of the cold water around
her legs and how she had squealed and clung to her father and tried to climb higher up his body. Inch by inch, he lowered her into the sea and then gradually loosened his hold on her until she was
able to float alone for a moment.
    ‘When I noticed he had let me go, I panicked and thrashed around and then, of course, I was going to go under! But he never let that happen, he held me up – not completely,
but just enough so that I felt safe again; until I got a sense that the sea would hold me. When we came out of the water, my hands and feet were as white as paper and wrinkled like prunes. I
remember feeling very pleased with myself.’
    Sammy had moved closer to her and they walked on, their sides touching, her arm about his waist, and his arm across her shoulders. He kissed her hair.
    ‘That’s a wonderful memory to have, Kitty. How old were you?’
    Kitty thought. ‘I was four. We were visiting Aunt Vi and Uncle Geoff and went to the seaside for the day. That was the last summer Dad was with us. He died when I was five.’
    Sammy murmured his sympathy and asked her what had happened.
    ‘His appendix burst and they couldn’t help him.’
    They took a few more steps in silence before she continued. ‘And I can remember something that he said to me that day too. I remember it because he said that some people say that kittens
can’t swim and he said, “You can do anything you put your mind to.” There are other things I can remember, but they’re vague – just feelings really, more a sense of
him than a specific memory. Things like his rolled-up shirt sleeves, and watching him shave – and I think I can remember him and my mum kissing in the garden.’
    They stopped walking and turned towards each other and kissed then. They kissed and clung to each other for a long time, and Kitty lost herself in the pleasure of being held against
Sammy’s body and the desire that made kissing him the only thing that mattered and drove everything else from her mind. They stopped kissing at last and stood facing each other, foreheads
touching, fingers entwined and gasping for breath. Slowly, Sammy let go of one of Kitty’s hands and pulled the other to his lips and kissed her palm. Then he leaned down and retrieved her
handbag that had fallen to the ground as they embraced.
    Sammy kissed her mouth and took her hand and they continued to walk. Kitty spoke first.
    ‘You didn’t finish telling me about the cabin – you said that your mother and your aunt didn’t want it to be for fishing.’
    Sammy laughed. ‘You’re not kidding; we came back from swimming expecting them to be laying out the picnic only to find them hanging pretty curtains at the windows. You should have
seen my pa’s face! Anyhow, that was just the start. Now there’s furniture – a