‘What are you doing?’ Donna said, eyes narrow as the boat bounced over the wash.
Surtsey pointed. ‘The Inch. Mum wants to see it.’
‘We’re not landing though?’
Surtsey shrugged. ‘Have you been up close before?’
Donna shook her head and gripped tighter as the boat’s nose flipped up then landed in a splash.
It always surprised Surtsey that other people weren’t as obsessed with the island as she was. It was virgin territory, a brand new land, why wouldn’t you want to explore it? And yet people walked along that beach every day and never gave it a second thought. Maybe folk took it for granted because it had been there for over two decades now, part of the scenery.
Surtsey could remember countless drunken conversations in pubs, usually with boys trying to get into her pants, where she tried to explain the attraction. Why she studied it, how it brought her closer to something elemental, a feeling she belonged. Of course no one belonged on the Inch except the birds who nested on the cliffs, the insects who made it their home, the grasses and mosses, the fragile ecosystem that had developed in two decades. They were the future of the Inch, the future of the planet. Surtsey thought of humanity as a blip, a tiny ecological anomaly that would soon be wiped away, leaving the earth to get back its equilibrium. Fanciful crap of course, humankind was fucking up the planet as best it could, but she wouldn’t be sorry if they destroyed themselves before they destroyed the world.
They approached the southeastern cliffs where she’d collected samples the other day. Heaving grey slabs of land rooted in the sea. The cliffs contained tons of basaltic glass, formed when the magma from the original eruption cooled instantly, from twelve hundred degrees to zero as it hit the water. Steam explosions launched clouds and debris miles into the atmosphere. That the planet could so easily take on new forms, that’s why she studied geology. On the one hand you looked at periods of time stretching for aeons, on the other, things could be created or destroyed in a moment.
Louise turned from the front of the boat and beamed at Surtsey and Donna. She looked so much younger, the years fallen from her face.
Surtsey slowed the engine and angled the boat to skim round the south cliffs where cormorants and terns were sunning themselves. She saw puffins nestling in crevices, and this year the first gannets had arrived from the Bass Rock colony downriver. They turned up the west coast, the vents visible from this side, two natural amphitheatres, black bowls of rock, one bigger than the other like a protective older sister. They reached the cove in the shadow of the peaks where Tom was found. Surtsey rubbed her eyes.
Louise was engrossed in the view, leaning forward and peering at the landscape, eyes wide, soaking it in.
Surtsey shot a glance at Donna. She wanted her to understand the power of this place, the effect it could have on you. That was the reason her and Tom had sneaked out here in the first place. It wasn’t about the sex, though they had plenty of that. It was about inspiration, feeling insignificant in the face of it yet also part of something bigger. Surtsey never articulated this to Tom or anyone else. Right now she felt it again. It sounded hippyish, too much like her mum’s Gaia earth mother routine. But it was true, she felt in touch with the universe here like nowhere else.
They were round the cove now and Surtsey saw the jetty.
Louise called back. ‘Can we land?’
Surtsey looked at Donna.
‘We’re not allowed, right?’ Donna said.
‘Come on,’ Louise said.
‘I don’t know,’ Surtsey said.
Her mum looked at her, the tip of her tongue jammed between her teeth. ‘Do I need to play the dying mum card?’
‘Louise,’ Donna said, shocked.
‘Well, I’m dying, aren’t I?’
‘Don’t,’ Surtsey said.
‘Don’t die? I wish I had the choice.’ She turned to Surtsey. Her shoulders were straighter than they’d been in months. ‘I want to land.’
Surtsey thought about Tom, the police, the messages on her phone. She looked around.
‘If you’re sure,’ she said.
Louise smiled then turned towards the island.
Donna frowned.
Surtsey gunned the engine and poked the boat towards the jetty. She lined up alongside, cut the engine then threw the towrope over the post and pulled the boat in.
Donna got off first to help Louise out. She and Surtsey each held one of Louise’s hands and lifted her onto the jetty. Surtsey stepped out after, Donna giving her a hand.
Louise took a few hesitant steps along the planks, the girls hovering at either side.
‘I can walk, for Christ’s sake,’ she said, shuffling forwards.
She held a post and stepped onto the black sand. She crouched in slow motion, using the post to help her. Surtsey watched. Her mum moved like someone twice her age. Louise touched the sand, scooped a handful and straightened up. She lifted the sand to her face and breathed in, a few grains falling from her fingers.
‘I’ve missed this place,’ she said.
Donna stood behind, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Surtsey wondered about Donna’s relationship with Louise. Surtsey had looked after her as long as she could at home until it was too much. She loved that closeness, even in adversity. But she didn’t believe that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Whatever doesn’t kill you could still make you as weak as a newborn, it could destroy you in other ways, negate all the good in your life, leave you with nothing.
‘I was first here twenty-four years ago,’ Louise said. ‘It was only a year old. You should’ve seen it back then. So full of energy, elemental.’
She was talking like the island was an old lover.
Surtsey had a flash of fucking Tom on the eastern lava flow, behind the research hut, the sky violet at sunset, a lemon moon emerging over the vents.
Louise touched the sand to her mouth
