Deep Water Mark Ayre (inspirational books for students txt) 📖

didn't believe the joke warranted an answer, which was sad. In the silence that followed, Abbie once more experienced the rising tide of misery. She thought of her home; beautiful, modern, comfortable. Yet often, she would depart to spend night after night in unremarkable, cookie-cutter hotels. Why? Because it was not unusual to be alone in a hotel. Unlike lying in the silence of an empty house designed for a family, it did not make Abbie break down into crying fits from which she struggled to escape. Or, not as quickly, anyway.

Alice wouldn't speak, so Abbie forced herself to say, "To allow personal feeling to ruin my good work would be selfish. Who am I to turn my back on the people I could save?"

"Who fed you that line?" said Alice.

"I can think for myself."

"I know you can, and I ask again, who fed you that line?"

A ripple of anger pulsed through the misery. Realising her fists were clenched, Abbie turned away and forced them open. In her mind, a memory of Ben crouching before her, meeting her tear-filled eyes.

Abbie, to allow personal feeling to ruin your good work would be selfish. Who are you to turn your back on the people you can save?

Abbie's jaw was also clenched. That she kept closed.

"Okay," said Alice, accepting Abbie wasn't going to answer. "How about this: how many lives do you save a year?"

Abbie sighed. The conversation grew more wearying by the word. Emotionally, it was proving too much.

"I don't know," she said.

"I think you do, but okay, why don't we phrase it another way? How many days a year do you spend saving lives?"

Again, Abbie shook her head. "Not the point."

"You know my point?"

"It's probably twenty-six days," said Abbie. "Give or take. At worst, we're talking 10% of the year, and your point is: why can't I use the other 90% to fall in love, have children, experience the beauty of nature, raise a family. In short, live a life worth remembering."

"I hope that was my point," said Alice. "It's good, no?"

"Not really," said Abbie, "because I don't book in the twenty-six days. They come when they come. I never know I'm about to spend 48 hours trying to save a life until minute one of those hours. Every night, I go to sleep, waiting, wondering, Will tonight be the night I get the next call to action. By the time the sun rises again, will I already be in the thick of another life or death situation, not just for the stranger I've come to save, but for me? You want me to bring a family into that? First question, how? Obviously, I'm hot stuff; a boyfriend will be easy to find."

"True," said Alice.

"But keeping him's another matter, when I have to ditch our shared bed at a moment's notice several times a year, with no explanation. When I have to disappear for a couple of days and can't tell him why. How does that relationship lead to children? How does it last more than a couple of months?"

Alice didn't hesitate.

"How do criminals find wives and husbands? How did Spider-Man make it work with Mary Jane Watson? The partners of crooks know what their spouses get up to. Time and again, Spidey can only make it work with MJ once he’s revealed to her his secret identity."

Abbie stared at Alice.

"Spider-man?"

"What, a female ex-con in her sixties can't be a Spidey fan?"

"I'm guessing it's unusual."

"I'm an unusual person, and lucky because the web-slinger beautifully illustrates my point. You can find love and have children. All you have to do is find someone with whom you can confide about your job. Someone who'll understand."

"And you don't think," said Abbie, "that Spidey being fictional diminishes your argument at all?"

"I know it doesn't," said Alice. "As do you."

"Okay, let's say the Spidey argument works. Maybe I can find someone I can tell about my job without scaring them off. What about the danger? Sooner or later, someone will kill me while I'm trying to save a life. Then what? If I have children, I leave them motherless?"

"Should those in the military remain unmarried and childless? What about police officers? Plenty of people put their lives on the line to make the world an ostensibly better place. Should they all be alone?"

Abbie closed her eyes. Not only the argument but also the beauty of her surroundings seemed to be wearing her down. All of a sudden, she wanted to go back to bed.

"You're upset," said Alice.

"Do you reckon? Weird that, isn't it? Shouldn't I be used to these arguments by now? I've had them often enough with myself. What's to get upset about anymore?"

When Abbie opened her eyes, she became aware she was still holding the photo frame. Thrusting it into Alice's hands, she turned away, looking across the sea.

"Abbie--"

"It's cold," Abbie cut in. "I'm going inside."

Before Alice could respond, Abbie had moved to the glass door and stepped back into the bar. Despite her claim, the cold hadn't seemed to be affecting her. When she stepped into the warm, the temperature contrast was enough to make her shiver. Raising her hands to her arms, she hugged herself, trying to rub away the goosebumps.

"I'm sorry," said Alice, stepping inside and closing the door. "I didn't mean to go on. I'm like a dog with a bone."

"It's fine."

There was silence. They stood in the bar, but neither of them moved. Abbie could feel Alice's eyes on her. Could feel the older woman gearing up to speak again.

"You think about it a lot, then?" asked Alice.

Abbie sighed.

"Sorry, but I'm just thinking."

"Dangerous."

"You're an intelligent woman."

"I've heard it said."

"And you've been over this time and again. You've raised the points you did today and come back with the arguments I've made. You must know what I've said makes sense. You'll know you could find someone with whom you could share your secrets and start a family. There's a risk you'll leave that family too soon, like you've said, but that's a risk everyone takes