Seaward

By Jessi Hammond

A year ago, Shaun nearly died.

Now he's finally back home, but his life is a wreck. His Mum is hyper-vigilant, his friends have drifted away, and no one will believe the truth about the so-called accident.

Or the girl who saved him.

But Shaun knows she's real.

And he's going to find her.

Because he almost doesn't believe what happened either...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kincaid Publishing
• Release date: Mar 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393187745

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About this book

A year ago, Shaun nearly died.

Now he’s finally back home, but his life is a wreck. His Mum is hyper-vigilant, his friends have drifted away, and no one will believe the truth about the so-called accident.

Or the girl who saved him.

But Shaun knows she’s real.

And he’s going to find her.

Because he almost doesn’t believe what happened either…

Seaward

One

The moon hung almost straight overhead as Shaun made his way along the pathway to the beach. He walked with his head down, watching his feet drag slowly and clumsily along the uneven boards. First the crutches, their tapping muted beneath the nearby wash of the sea, their dull silver lengths flanking the twist of his bad leg. Then his not-so-bad leg, the muscles still noticeably thin even after months of physiotherapy, but finally able to hold his weight.

The doctors had been amazed at how determined he’d been to learn to walk again. Learn to do everything, really. The incident – he refused to think of it as an accident, because it wasn’t – hadn’t just shattered his body, it had done some permanent damage to his brain as well. So learning to walk, learning to feed himself again, even go to the bathroom on his own, wasn’t as easy as simply waiting for his bones and muscles to heal properly. He also had to fight his own head, which seemed to have rewired itself in stupid ways. Talking was hard. His balance was shot, his hands shook and, sometimes, even standing upright took a massive effort of will.

And way more pain than he was willing to admit to.

There were times, when no one could see or hear, that he cried with frustration at his progress, screamed into his pillow with rage at himself. The few friends he’d had – well, ex-friends now, since none of them bothered to text anymore, and none of them had visited since he got home – didn’t know how good they had it. Able to walk, run, bike, swim, even drive, some of them now.

Just decide to do something and go do it.

Not have to plan things with military precision to go anywhere.

Not that Mum let him go anywhere on his own anymore, anyway.

In fact, she would absolutely flip her biscuits if she knew he was out here, on the beach, in the middle of the night. It had been hard enough to convince her that he was well enough to come home from hospital in the first place, but at least the doctors and social workers had sided with him on that one. The sea air would do him good, they told her. Familiar surroundings would help him recover. Integrating back into his normal life would help him accept his situation better.

So four weeks ago he’d come home to a house that was and wasn’t the same as he’d left it.

It was neat, a lot neater than it had ever been, so