"Full Circle" The Simple Things Magazine July Edition
As soon as I saw the little red car swing around the corner, I began to feel better. Katya stopped, radio still blaring, grinning her familiar gappy smile. Wearing a gingham red sundress that tied in bows on her shoulders, “to match the car”, her skirt rucked up over her knees,“to feel the breeze”, she was unchanged from when we were kids, borrowing her brother’s car to skip sixth form and spend an illicit day at the beach.
It was a relief to see her. I threw my straw basket into the back, and took my seat by her side.
She looked at me steadily, eyes locking with mine.
“What’s up?”she asked.
“ Nothing! Nothing. Just, well, you know.”
“ I do know. That’s why I’m here. We need a day at the beach. I’ve got this.” She tossed me a huge floppy hat with ribbons.
“Tuck your skirt into your knickers. Let’s go.”
I sank back into the chair, tied an enormous bow under my chin and began to list what I had brought: cossy; towel; suncream; white shirt; bottle of white wine in a chiller; magazine; cake in a tin-
-“ Are you worried Brown Owl is going to check our kit list?” she interrupted.
We sang as we drove, twisting and turning through the Dorset lanes. Following black and white finger signs and memory more than the sat nav, we circled back for a while, took an accidental detour through a watercress farm and arrived at the beach late into the afternoon.
We lay in our cossys and chatted as the sun moved across the sky. We ate Hula Hoops from each finger, the cake from the tin and opened the wine. Lying on our bellies, our fingers trailing in the sand, sifting, arranging pebbles into circles and piles, we talked about the other versions of us that we had known over the decades.
We talked until the sun was setting in pink and gold on the chalky cliffs. Katya pointed to the stone spiral that I had been idly constructing.
“Full circle,” she said. “ We’ve come full circle. We have survived it all: careers; kids; divorces; deaths, but fundamentally, we are still those two little girls on the beach: more than ever these days.”
“ Except, we keep our cossys on now and wouldn’t dream of skinny dipping!” I laughed, “ but yes, you are right. Full circle.”
“ Phosphorescence,” she said, staring out to sea.
“How could I forget? I’ve only ever seen it once. That night at Fishcombe Cove…” I sighed, lying back to stare at the sky. “ Our bare skin in the salty sea; hair, fingers and toes radiating luminous threaded beams of light as we swirled: magical creatures with super powers-
-“Look! Phosphorescence!” she repeated.
I sat up.The evening sun was almost gone and the moon bathed the cove in yellowish light. Ripples of bright light danced in the water, illuminating every wave with flickering stars.
The waves rolled back and so did the years. I stepped out of my cossy and into the sea. Katya, incredulous, for a moment, did the same.
An elderly couple, walking their dog on the headland above, spotted our abandoned costumes, and stood for a minute to see us diving and swooping in the spangled waves.
“Just look at those kids in the water,” they said. “We were like that once.”
Harriet Derioz @somewhereinsomerset is a writer of content for a variety of publishers and platforms. Her simple thing is swimming in the sea with her dog, Toots, and the beloved women in her life.
