A CRY FROM THE DEEP (24 page)

“I didn’t know you were religious.”

“If you count spiritual, then I’m in.” She waited until the others had gone below before turning to him. “Hennesey is something else, huh? It must be a hell of a way to live, propelled by greed.”

       “He’s got lots of company.”

“In one way, I can’t blame him. It must be thrilling to find valuable relics. That’s one thing I’ve never been a part of before—diving a wreck that has gold jewelry somewhere in its hold. I’ve only heard that gold holds its brilliance in the deep. I’d like to see it for myself. Something that stays pristine no matter what nature throws at it.”

Daniel grinned. “Don’t tell me I have to watch out for you, too. I can see it all now. You sneaking around the wreck and slipping a gold pendant into your pocket like the fox you are.”

“Ha! Not my style.”

When she stood up, he unzipped the back of her suit. “Thanks.” She trembled when his fingers touched her bare neck. “Still cold,” she said quickly.

“Surprising with that dry suit of yours.”

“Yeah.” When he kept looking at her curiously, she turned away again, hiding her discomfort. She put her booties in her sports bag and said, “I still owe you an explanation for what happened.”

“You do,” he said seriously. He looked at his watch. “How about dinner at seven?”

Thrown by his quick invitation, she sputtered, “Seven?”

“I have to make a few calls first. Sean’s having some crisis with the caterer at the country club.” She must’ve looked puzzled, as he added, “That’s where the wedding reception’s taking place. I’ll try to make it as quick as I can. How about we meet in the hotel lobby?”

She nodded. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the arrangement. It wasn’t a real date, but it was dinner. When he’d mentioned Sean, it was like he’d thrown cold water on her face. Catherine then realized she was being foolish for hoping for something that wasn’t going to happen. They were colleagues, nothing more. They were getting together so she could explain why she swam away from him during their morning dive. But would he understand? She hoped so. That was the least she wanted from their meeting.

TWENTY-SIX

With an hour to kill before dinner, Catherine caught up with her email. There was one from Marie. She and her two sons were having the time of their lives, soaking up the country life in Provence. The lavender had come in full and fragrant and Marie, with the aid of the usual help, was able to harvest the flowers and make up the perfume sachets for market. Memories of working the farm rushed in like a flood. Catherine could almost smell the flowers’ soothing scent as she read Marie’s closing sentence, ‘Don’t worry, all is well.’

Catherine wished she could say the same. Although her day had ended on a positive note, the thought of sharing her ghostly experiences with Daniel consumed her thoughts. Would he think she was some weirdo? Someone he’d regret having as his diving buddy? With hopes of reducing her anxiety, she returned to her email.

There was one from Frank, asking for an update. She wrote back, telling him about the finds—the two ships, the coins, and the cannon balls. She told him everything, except her frustrations. At the end of her email, she promised to send photos once she had a chance to review them.

She then phoned Alex. Richard had organized a video call, and there they were, father and daughter on the screen, more than a thousand miles away on another continent. Seeing them made her homesick. She’d been gone less than a week and yet Alex looked both taller and older. Her little girl was growing and she wasn’t there to witness the changes.

“Sweetie pie, you look great! What is grandma feeding you?” she said, masking her longing.

“Food,” said Alex, giggling. Catherine touched the screen and blew kisses, which Alex returned with a lot of smiles and smacking sounds. While Richard beamed in the background, Alex shared everything she was doing—turning the video conversation into a non-stop monologue.

Back home on their farm, Catherine would’ve been annoyed with Alex’s domination, but now, with an ocean between them, Catherine hung on every word. It was at that moment Catherine remembered something her mother had once said, ‘You don’t miss the water until the well runs dry.’

Catherine missed Alex and the comfort of her family. But then again, the three of them had never been much of a family. She and Richard had tried but the newness of their infant eventually wore off and they were faced with who they had become. And yet now, it seemed Richard had changed, this time for the better. Was she different as well? She was afraid that time had hardened her edges. 

“Mama, can you hear me?”

“Yes, I can hear you.” Catherine strained to listen. She was guilty of tuning out when her own thoughts took over. 

“Papa says I can come again next summer if I want. Kaitlin comes every year and next year she says I can ride on the beach with her.”

Richard whispered something in Alex’s ear.

“I have to go now. Papa’s taking me to Kaitlin’s for a play date.”

“Have fun. I miss you so much.” Catherine felt her throat catch, and she stopped herself from crying out loud as she said good-bye. She almost added she missed Richard, too, but did she, or was it because she had nobody?

“I love you, Mama,” said Alex, blowing kisses again. Then, she and her father vanished.

Catherine was back to staring at the cold screen displaying a list of contact numbers. She was surprised Alex wasn’t whining for her to come home. She was obviously getting used to her mother being away. This whole career thing for women was a double-edged sword.

With time left, she reviewed her shots until she got to the images she’d taken of the phantom. Even though she’d hoped for a sharp image, she wasn’t surprised to find nothing but squiggly lines resembling neon lights in the rain. She then remembered she hadn’t had a chance to get any shots of the barque nor the brass letters,
A
and
L,
lying on the bottom. Though upset over that, she found comfort in the fact that Daniel had seen the ship as well.

She backed up her photos, put her SD card back in her case, and rinsed her camera in fresh water to flush out any salt residue. After ensuring everything was working well, she set it to dry on a towel.

With the British ship playing on her mind, she went online and checked the Lloyds of London website. There was no mention of a ship going down in that location, but she did see a link to the Guildhall Library in London. She immediately went to that website to search Lloyds of London’s shipping records prior to 1985, but no matter what tab or link she tried, she couldn’t find what she wanted. The letters
A
and
L
gave her no clue, as there were too many ships in the nineteenth century that had names containing those letters. If only she had the name of the ship, or even the date it was launched or wrecked.

Catherine took a shower, then donned black jeans and a periwinkle blue sweater with a scoop neck that—according to Lindsey—brought out the color of her eyes. She squirted on some designer perfume she’d splurged on and gave her hair one more brush before leaving for her date with Daniel. And for good luck, she had put on her Celtic wedding band.

~~~

When she entered the hotel lobby, Daniel was waiting for her by the door. He gave her an admiring once-over. “You look good cleaned up.”

She laughed. “You’re not so bad yourself.” He had on a beige fisherman’s cable knit sweater and looked like a model for one of those cologne ads in Vanity Fair.

They decided on a pub on the outskirts of town and drove off in Daniel’s car—a rental marginally bigger than Catherine’s. The road took them past sheep farms, stone cottages, and the odd architecturally designed home.

“It’s funny,” said Daniel. “I’ve travelled to many places around the globe and I was always glad to get home. But this place is one I could settle down in, if it wasn’t for my work.”

His thoughts echoed hers, and for a moment, she had an odd feeling they’d had this conversation before.

Daniel went on, his face serious. “Maybe it’s the fact that almost every time you turn, you see water. I’ve always been drawn to water…” He chuckled. “As if that wasn’t obvious. But it’s not only that. Here, the land is mysterious, like the ocean. The way it swells and meanders, as if each valley contains some old story that’s been forgotten or waits to be retold.”

Catherine tilted her head as she looked at him. “You have a way with words. Are you sure you don’t have some Irish in you? Some of the world’s greatest writers come from Ireland.”

“Oscar Wilde, James Joyce, Yeats.” He smiled. “Who knows. The way people move from place to place, anything is possible.”

“True enough.”

“My background is Italian, but I swear this land feels like it’s in my blood.”

It’s in my blood, too
, she wanted to say. She gazed out the side window and caught a glimpse of a ewe grazing alongside the road. A soft rain began to fall, and Daniel put on the wipers. The wetness intensified the greens of the land, brightening an otherwise grey evening. Around the next corner, they came to a wee village. At the edge of it, The Lamplighters’ Tavern, its wood siding painted magenta. The brightness of it, along with the gas lamp hanging over the door, made it more than welcoming. It looked like a safe haven, one where her strange revelations might land on receptive ears.

TWENTY-SEVEN

The pub was already packed with locals even though the musicians hadn’t set up yet. Catherine and Daniel chose a table in the corner. After they’d both ordered a Guinness and an Irish meat pie, the blond waitress, whose ample cleavage overflowed her low-cut top, said to Daniel, “You’re an American, then?”

“Yes,” said Daniel, with a sparkle in his eye.

“Is this your girl, then?”

Seemingly unsurprised by her forward question, Daniel said, “No, she’s not. Do you think she should be?”

The waitress laughed. “I don’t know, depends on what you want.”

After the girl left, Catherine teased, “She completely ignored me. All she could see was you. Too bad you’re taken.” And then quickly before he had a chance to read too much into her remark, she said, “I forgot to ask, are things okay back home?”

“Some mix-up with the caterers. The chef that Sean hired quit. She told me he thought she was interfering too much.”

“That’s too bad.”

Daniel stroked his chin, right below his dimples. “That’s Sean. She’s pretty hands on with everything. I guess he didn’t like it. Anyway, she had to find someone new. She didn’t have to run it by me, but I guess she feels better when she can.”

“Great!” Her
Great
came out weakly, as if she was insincere, which she was. She couldn’t care less about his wedding plans. The fact they were fine was irritating. She’d wanted some inkling there was room to maneuver, to be more than just a fellow diver. In the midst of her thoughts, the young woman with the big breasts returned and set their beer on the table. This time, she didn’t linger. Catherine figured it was because she was too busy.

Daniel raised his glass. “Here’s to more great dives together.”

She clinked his glass and said, “I’m amazed you can say that after today.”

“You were more than adequate the second dive. Lapses of concentration can happen to anyone.”

He was being too kind. Up until now, he hadn’t pushed her to tell him what’d happened, but the way he was gazing at her, all somber, she expected at any moment he’d be pressing her for some kind of explanation.

Sure enough, he said, “I have some serious reservations about our upcoming dives.”

She braced herself. “What do you mean?” She hoped he wasn’t thinking of getting a different buddy to dive with.

“Hennesey’ll do everything he can to put up roadblocks.”

Relieved his concerns weren’t about her, she relaxed and sat back.

“If he’s found one of the Armada ships,” Daniel said, “he’s going to have two governments battling it out.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t thought of the Irish, but the wreck is within their twelve mile range.”

“Exactly. And the Spaniards can claim their war ship wasn’t abandoned, that it was wrecked while making its way home. There’d be no contest then, but the Irish may still try.”

“And what about the barque? Do you think he‘ll inform the National Monument Service?”

“If he’s smart, he will. The laws require he contact either them or the Ministry of Environment or the police within four days of any significant discovery. Especially now that he’s on to something big with both wrecks.”

“Both?”

Daniel nodded. “Don’t kid yourself. Hennesey didn’t say much after you stumbled upon the British one, but I bet he wants to know what’s on that ship. If I’m not mistaken, she was a trading ship, and she could’ve been carrying anything.”