A Father's Pledge. Eleanor Jones

wrong. She was here to do a job and she wasn’t about to let him interfere with her courses. She’d already proved that her sea therapy worked; getting children to understand nature, the constant, timeless rhythm of life and the tide’s ebb and flow helped give them a sense of belonging to something bigger than their everyday lives...helped them heal. Luke Travis should be attending her courses as a student, not as a critic; it might do him a world of good to stop and take stock of what really mattered in life.

      It wasn’t until much later, curled up in bed with the moonlight streaming in through her window, that Kat’s thoughts went back to her own issues. Her past was always there, waiting for a chance to remind her why she’d started working with troubled children in the first place. And as she drifted to sleep, her subconscious took over, taking her back to the day when her whole life turned on its head, ripping away her childhood...

      She was trying to hurry, but her legs refused to do as they were told, as if she was wading through water. Ahead of her the cottage she’d called home for almost fifteen years seemed to loom out at her, its windows strangely sad and empty when normally they shone, bright and inquisitive, as if enjoying their glorious view of the sea that stretched out before them to meet the sky. She had always felt that the cottage had its moods and today it was angry with her; she could feel it in her bones. And all because she’d stayed late after school for once, to play in the park with the normal kids who didn’t have to rush home every day to care for their sad, crazy mothers.

      The song of the sea filled her ears with its familiar, rhythmic swish as she stepped through the front door. Her heart thudded loudly in the silence of the small sitting room. Her mother’s lumpy figure was slumped on the sofa, eyes wide-open, gazing into nowhere...

      And then the screaming started, the screaming that went on and on and on...

      Kat sat up in the darkness with the screaming still ringing inside her head. Guilt and horror seemed to pin her to the bed. She forced herself to breathe; it was a dream, just a dream.

      Moonlight slid in through the window, calming her, bringing back reality. She’d never truly escape that nightmare, though; it was a memory. Her mother had died because she had left her all alone, upsetting the routine that kept her sane and sending her over the edge.

      Thanks to all the counseling she’d had afterward, Kat understood that it wasn’t her fault and that she had to stop blaming herself. She’d been barely fifteen, a child who should never have had the responsibility of caring for a mother who was suffering from depression. There were times, like tonight, however, when the dreams came back to haunt her, casting out her common sense and forcing her to relive the agony of that day.

      She tried to look on the bright side. The dream always reminded her why she’d followed the path that had finally led her here, to Flight. For she had been one of those lost, confused kids who had no stability in their lives. By becoming a child therapist, she’d been able to give something back. It had helped to ease the sorrow and guilt that she knew would hang over her forever, no matter what anyone said.

       CHAPTER TWO

      AFTER HER DISAGREEMENT with Luke, Kat felt relieved to be off work the next day. Determined to put their unpleasant incident out of her head, she decided to head down to the shore, hoping to get new ideas for her sea sessions. Despite her positive attitude, however, as she wandered along the line of flotsam and jetsam she couldn’t help but remember the threats he’d made about reporting her incompetence. She needed to see Mike and explain what had happened before Luke gave his version...assuming he hadn’t already done so. Even if he had, she could still share her side of things.

      Kat turned her face into the wind and breathed in its salty tang, listening to the sounds and smells and waiting for them to smooth away her troubles. Today, though, her “seaside fix” just didn’t seem to work. In fact, it had the opposite effect, taking her back yet again to the bleak and empty phase of her life she’d tried so hard to forget.

      Her mother used to tell her that she was selfish and irresponsible, and sometimes, deep down, Kat couldn’t help wondering if it was true. The familiar guilt gnawed at her gut. What if Luke was right? What if she had been too lax with Ben? Perhaps she should have been watching over the children more stringently...and perhaps she should have watched over her mother better. The thought made her feel fifteen again, and she shuddered.

      The voices inside her head that had shouted at her then, blaming her for her mother’s death, were now mostly just a whisper in her memory, except when the dreams came to haunt her as they had last night.

      Those voices had been stilled by the soothing song of the sea on that awful day as she’d waited down on the shore for someone to answer her emergency call. Her quickly fading footprints in the sand had made her feel invisible, bringing comfort. But she hadn’t truly been invisible because the paramedics had soon found her, speaking in quietly caring, low, soothing tones that held a hushed urgency. How long have you been your mother’s carer? Do you have any other relatives? Where does your father live?

      She’d screamed at them to shut up, her hands clamped tight across her ears. They’d shared concerned glances, raised their eyebrows and whispered behind their hands. She’d been totally ignorant about the world, totally ignorant about death and totally unaware that her mother had been suffering from depression for over five years—since her father left.

      Today, the bay was sparkling and serene, so beautiful that it took Kat’s breath away. She’d been afraid of the sea for a while after her mother died, for it was so closely linked with the day she’d found her body...and yet, deep down, she’d yearned for it, too.

      It had taken five years for her to finally pluck up the courage to visit the coast again, believing that just being back in its awe-inspiring company would rekindle all her heartache, guilt and anger. She couldn’t have been more wrong. As soon as she’d gazed across the sweep of the bay to where the sea and sky became one, and breathed in those familiar scents, with the buffeting wind in her face and droplets of water on her skin, she’d known that the sea was still her friend, wild and beautiful and sometimes dangerous, but always dependable. And then she’d known that she should never have been afraid of going back to the coast, for her mother’s illness had had nothing to do with this place at all.

      Jenny Brown’s Bay shimmered ahead of her now, serene and tranquil for once; it felt all-forgiving.

      “I’m sorry, Mum,” she cried out into the gentle breeze, raising her hands to the sky. “I let you down when you needed me, but I will make up for it, you’ll see.”

      Trying to put the past behind her, Kat carried on walking. The memories clung and it occurred to her that perhaps she should be thanking her mother, for Kat’s childhood experiences had led her to become what she was today, someone who could, hopefully, make a difference in the lives of children who needed support and guidance.

      She took a deep breath and studied the flow of the rippling tide. Its changeless rhythm intrigued her, for although the ocean could often be terrifying in its ferocity, it was also consistent. No matter what was going on in people’s lives, the tide continued rushing up to the shore and flooding back out right on time; the sun still shone, the rain still fell and all the creatures in the world went about their daily lives following nature’s call without question.

      That was what she loved about nature and animals: durability. Which was what had made her decide to develop her specialized therapy. Children who had no stability in their lives gained strength and confidence from their seaside sessions. She’d seen it time and time again, and Kat firmly believed that nature could teach most people a thing or two, if they only took note. Pity Luke Travis didn’t spend more time taking note of what her courses were about, she thought, instead of being so negative and critical.

      It was late afternoon before Kat arrived back at Flight. The big, stone-built house must have once been some wealthy person’s country residence. As she approached, it stood tall and square against the brightness of the sky, its windows sparkling in the sunshine. It was a beautiful house, a wonderful place for the