Читать книгу Christmas with Her Ex - Fiona McArthur - Страница 7

THE SEAGULLS WERE screaming—or maybe it was him. Twelve-year-old Connor saw the wave lift his mother and tumble her over and over.

He was running but it was too late.

He should have told her not to go back. The words had been on his lips.

He should never have held them back.

‘A quick look for Daddy’s ring,’ she’d said. ‘I must have dropped it in the rock pool.’

But he’d known the tide was coming in. The last wave had made them run from the rocks. And now…

‘Look after your mother,’ Dad had said, and he hadn’t. He should have said, No! Dont go. The waves are too big. They’ll sweep you out. You don’t have time.

The wave… And then another…

And then there were people—shouting, helping. Reaching his mother as he couldn’t. They’d get her.

But, no. A man was carrying his mother towards the sand, and his mother was limp like the seaweed that washed this way and that in the waves.

Her long hair was touching the sand as they came closer. He saw her face—and he knew nothing would ever be the same.

He knew he should have stopped her. He knew it. He knew it. Now… the way she was lying… .he knew something awful had happened.

He’d disobeyed his father. His mother was dying and he knew it was his fault.