She Was Well...

Laura was well-wrapped up and walking purposefully along the tide-line. The wind, rain, spray, and her tears merged into a half-seen foreground. The wind gusted and pulled her towards the water. She determinedly turned up the sand and kept going. She was heading for the Cave, a natural stone cave and a hangout for the local kids. At Spring tide, as now, the cave was cut off for a few hours which always provided a great excuse for the kids to stay out late unobserved.

She was an only child and fiercely reared. Spending time in the cave, even with normal tides out of the question. On the same night eight years ago, Doughy Donnelly (one of the three wild Donnelly boys from the other side of town) had singled her out and asked her to come.

“No monkey business, you know? Just a bit of fun,” he said. She looked at him and he said “don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” His smile clinched it. She decided to risk it. The same night he asked her if he could take her to the prom. It was their final school year. She had never felt so happy and content. Her life was taking shape.

The next morning there was a major eruption when her parents found out and exploded with anger. She was locked in her room and when Doughy called he was told she was indisposed and unavailable. She was allowed out for the exams., and avoided looking Doughy in the eye. She was mortified. Doughy approached her twice but she turned away.

She decided to study medicine and this was accepted by her parents. Her father agreed to fund it. She immediately applied to the London Hospitals and got as far away from her parents as possible. Over those weeks before she left, her parents went over and over about how Doughy could never amount to anything and they wanted better for her. She wanted to scream.

She did well, did her hospital placements in Paris and joined MSF. No going back.

Doughy was a good sportsman, well able to argue and think, but never got on with the regular school curriculum. He went to Berlin. One night he met a guy who had a computer programming problem. Doughy asked to see it. He asked a few questions, and spent the whole night working on it. The key had been to start again. He was a natural. Within six months he was selling his own programmes and developing a great reputation. Then he was head-hunted to San Francisco and was in at the beginning of computerised film. As well as ability he had a great eye, a natural easy charm and people flocked to him. He sold his Berlin firm to Apple and took part-payment in shares. He opened up a new firm in San Francisco which was in essence a studio.

His fame spread, and Laura was aware of it. She now had no contact with her parents but posted them headlines of Doughy’s successes with no comment.

Both parents were now dead. She was back in town to sell the house. The deed was done. One more nostalgic visit to remember the happy night in the cave, then back to the hotel, a shower, and back to the airport. She did not exactly know why she was crying. Not so much for something lost as never gained.

Doughy wrote a book. He described it as a memoir, and accepted there was more to come at twenty-six. The book didn’t sell well at home, but it got taken up by Opra Winfrey as the most sensitive love story by a man she had read and suddenly it was racing up the NYT ratings and he was getting calls from Netflix.

The same weekend they were in town, locating scenes. The Cave at high tide on the Spring tide was an important one. No sooner had Laura settled in ahead of the rising water, then she heard excited shouting as a rubber motor-launch came around the headland and beached in front of the cave.

There was a crew of about six. Two camera men, a woman who seemed in charge, another girl and another man, and Doughy. She shrank back into the shadows. She had not expected company and certainly not Doughy. The accents were mainly American. And then she heard Doughy’s voice.

“You are of course right. I should have made more of an effort. But the emotion was all on my side. I have, had, no idea if it was reciprocated. The funny thing was, you know, I was drawn to her even in kindergarten. I always felt I had to protect her, though she never seemed to need protecting. It was just I always wanted to be, you know, close to her.”

“If we are going to make this movie we need something for the finale. I know you wrote this book and I guess it is a masterpiece, but in the end, there is still the unknown. We need something. I don’t suppose you could find her now?”

“She lives in France, I believe and travels a lot. She is probably now married, maybe even has a child. I don’t feel I could just walk up to her and say, ‘do you want to try again’ or something along those lines.”

“Could you walk up to her and tell her you have been in love with her all these years? I mean, what have you got to lose?” Doughy was silent for a few moments. Then he said

“If she were here in front of me now, I would ask her to marry me.” He sounded so sad. The woman looked at the camera-man and he nodded. No one spoke.

Then Laura walked forward out of the gloom, and stood behind Doughy. The woman was about to speak but Laura put a warning finger to her lips, and smiled. She tapped Doughy on the shoulder. As he turned, Laura said

“Are you a man of your word?” Doughy looked at the woman. “Is this a set up?”

“No. I am as surprised as you are. I take it this is the unnamed girl in the book?”

Laura said “I have never been married, I have no children. I came here tonight to re-live the happy night eight years ago and to close the book on my fantasy. I had no idea all of you would be here. Doughy replied to the woman “Yes, this is the girl I have pined for all these years.” And to Laura “Would you consider marrying me?” “In a heartbeat. Yes, of course I’ll marry you.” She stepped up to him and kissed him.” The woman looked at the cameraman. He nodded.

© Dave Cuffe 2025

2021