An Immovable Solitude S.A. McAuley

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.Kerry liked to tease me I enjoyed this part of my job a little too much.I wore my usual blue and silver board shorts hung low on my hips, with feet and chest bare.I leant down to speak intimately to the women, my smile flashing, my laugh genuine.My blond hair, just a touch on the long side, fell into my eyes and one of the ladies looked as if she wanted to push it back.I never discouraged it if they tried.I gave my excuses, begging off with the list of duties I had to complete.I pointed at Abraham and told them my boss made me work too hard.Abraham grinned and shook his head; he'd seen this too many times.Yet he still laughed, because both of us knew who the boss really was even though at twenty-seven, I didn't look old enough to have my own company.More importantly Abraham knew I wasn't interested in any of them.No matter how free, easy, or beautiful they were.I had a gorgeous man, my partner in every sense of the word, waiting for me back at our shop.Nothing about me proclaimed my sexuality; I'd never been loud about being gay.Most days, it was the least of what defined me.But I'd never hidden it either.For some, my choice to live with my sexual orientation as secondary, like every straight person had the pleasure of doing, was unsettling.So they made assumptions when it would've been easier to ask.But for most, especially the tourists, I was little more than eye candy.Someone pleasant-looking to flirt with when away from home.The nervous anticipation of the divers relaxed as the winds died and the waves settled the boat into a gentle sway.The sun crested over the mountains to the east, chasing the rest of the stars away.Abraham gave his standard greeting and instructions before the first divers dropped into the cage.The energy of the tourists was palpable, pulling smiles from the tired crew.We'd all been up for hours already, prepping the boat and supplies, and performing equipment checks.This moment―when Abraham, with a twitch of his lips, asked the inevitable question, "Who wants to go first?"―was my second favourite part of the workday.Nervous laughter skittered between the tourists, and Dominick, our videographer, circled them, capturing their reactions for a personalised DVD we would sell to them after the trip.Today, it was an American who stepped forwards, a goofy grin plastered across his face.He immediately put the rest of the tourists at ease as he joked about who would get his wife if he didn't make it out.I leant against the helm and pulled out my cell.A green light blinked at the corner and I flipped it open to read the text.Howzit?I chuckled.Three years after his arrival in South Africa and Kerry still hadn't mastered the basic slang.He'd attempted it enough times that I knew he was asking how the charter was going, but the actual meaning of what he'd asked was "how are you?"Lekker was my one-word reply: Excellent.We both spent so much time dealing with tourists that we usually had to curb the use of slang.But when it was just the two of us, jokes about the differences between his Irish English and my South African English were common.I heard gasps and a scattering of loud curses and knew the first great white had been sighted.I peeked out of the wheelhouse to where the deckhands were tossing a fish head into the water.They dragged it back to the boat, drawing the shark closer to the cage.My cell pinged.I can't drag my ass out of bed.He was lying.I'd heard his footsteps on the wood floors, walking from the bedroom into the shower, as I'd left early this morning.He would be in the shop now, hunched over his desk, coffee cup in hand, his black hair most likely dishevelled from running his fingers through it while he reconciled the monthly accounts.His work today wouldn't be complicated, he was too organised for that, but it would be tedious and that drove Kerry mad.He needed to be constantly entertained, and I favoured the days I spent discovering new ways to keep him occupied and interested.It's right where I want it, hey? I texted back.The tourist group was all smiles now, enthralled with the gigantic beast cutting lazily through the water around them.Selling the DVDs was going to be easy today.Abraham and the deckhands had the divers taken care of, the water had calmed to a leisurely roll, and the heat from the sun was tempered by a gentle breeze from the south.Newborn seal pups barked from the island off our bow.It was the birth of these young that had attracted the great whites back to Dyer Island and Van Dyks Bay despite the warmer waters, driving larger tourist groups our way to the point where we'd added a second boat and hoped to receive government approval for a third next year.If you don't want your books to balance this month, Erik Hash was his response.He was using my full name.Not a good sign.I typed back Frustrated already?He replied before I could look up I'd rather be on the boat.I let out a low whistle.If he wanted to be on the boat more than in the shop, that meant he was more than frustrated.Kerry hated the sharks as much as I loved them.I'd met him three years ago when he'd walked onto my uncle's boat with his sister, Kelle, in tow, and I knew then I would do anything to have him.It took me one day to get him into my bed, but almost a year before I knew he loved me as much as I loved him.Kerry and Kelle were only supposed to stay in the Cape for a week, and then move on to Durban, over to Johannesburg, and eventually into Botswana.After our first night together, Kerry decided not to leave Van Dyks Bay and Kelle reluctantly stayed on [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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