FB - England, Cornwall - Porthmeor Beach (Summer 1992)

[Hollywood Heidi]

Porthmeor Beach

Located in Cornwall, England and taking place in the summer of 1992.

[Kristi Lynne]

The annual Havers Family holiday by the sea. This particular summer, Gwen was feeling all the awkwardness of being fifteen. Braces on her teeth, spots on her face, no natural grace or rhythm to any of her movements. She dreaded going back to school, but at least she could banish the thought for a few more days while they were here on the coast.

She looked out at the waves as a few surfers managed to stay upright, though most went flailing ungracefully into the water. The fishing boats moved slowly across the horizon, and every now and then a bird would dive down on its own fishing mission. She felt a tap on her shoulder and smiled up at her younger brother, Julian, as he sat down beside her on the sand.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he asked, in sign language.

She nodded and signed back. “Yes, it is.”

“Helena is already flirting with the concessions vendor,” he relayed.

“Well, you know what that means. Free Cornettos for the rest of the week.”

They both threw up their hands in mock celebration and laughed.

“What does it sound like?” he asked Gwen.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me what it sounds like,” he insisted.

“The same as it does every year. There’s waves crashing, some splashing, people laughing, birds squawking, fishing boats…”

He considered her description. “It sounds terribly dull.”

“It really is. You’re not missing anything.”

He tried to get her attention away from the water again. “Mum and Dad were fighting the whole way here.”

“No, they weren’t,” she assured him.

“I’m deaf, Gwen, not blind,” he declared.

She shook her head. “They were just…having an animated discussion.”

“About me.”

“It wasn’t about you.”

He tilted his head at her. “You’re a very bad liar. With your hands, and with your eyes.”

“Okay. But it wasn’t all about you.”

“It’s the school, isn’t it? They think it’s too expensive?”

“They want you to have a good education, Jules. They’re just not sure if they want you to go all the way to Cambridge for it.”

“But it’s the best school for deaf children in the country. I’m tired of being the odd one out, of not fitting in. I’d be with other kids like me.”

“I know that’s what you want. And Mum and Dad will find the money if they think that it’s really the best thing for you…”

“Oh, yes, Heaven forbid Mum would have to actually put in an honest day’s work so that her hearing-impaired son could go to a school with teachers that actually know how to speak to him.”

“Julian, that’s unfair. Mum would gladly take a job if that’s what it would take to make you happy.”

He threw her an incredulous look.

“Okay, we both know Mum will never work another day in her life,” she agreed. “But they do want what’s best for you. You believe that, right?”

He nodded.

“Plus, I would miss you terribly if you went away.”

“I guess I would miss you, too.”

She gasped in mock offense and playfully punched him in the arm.

“Gwen, if I went to that school, I’d work really hard. And I’d do really well.”

“I know you would, sweetie. But look, we’re on holiday and we’re not allowed to talk about work or school or other boring things. We’re here to get sunburnt, and eat too many sweets, and spend money on rubbish that we don’t need, and annoy people by pretending to be aloof French tourists.”

“Very good plan.”

“I’m glad you agree.”

“Hey, let’s go see if Helena’s made any progress with the guy who runs the lemonade stand.”

“Oh, I hope so. I’m famished.”