Jonathan Dodd‘s latest column. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
Molly Ashton wasn’t a sentimental person. She knew deep down inside that she didn’t really understand what sentimental meant. She had always known that she wasn’t clever, or particularly attractive, and she wasn’t ever going to make much of herself. Nobody had ever told her that, it was just something she knew.
Molly could have walked back to her room after work through the main street, but she much preferred taking the longer way, down by the beach. There were fewer people and no shops. You could just walk along and not have to get out of the way or listen to the noise and bustle.
The beach wasn’t beautiful, and it was so familiar and ordinary that she didn’t really notice it any more. There was just the sky, and the sea, stretching out to the horizon, and the pebbles, and the occasional gull. Sometimes they would waddle up towards her and cock their heads, as if they were studying her, looking for something special. But they never did, and they always found someone more interesting to bother.
Molly didn’t mind. Her days went by, she bought enough food to live on, and she didn’t dream of or imagine anything better. Sometimes she sat and stared at nothing until it got dark, and sometimes she was surprised to notice that she had been crying.
–///–
One day, after work, she was taken aback to see a man, walking slowly along the shingle with his head down, scanning the beach in front of him intently, as if he had lost something. He hardly ever looked up, and passed right in front of her until he was out of sight.
Every now and then he would stoop and scrabble among the small stones and pick something up. He would rub it with his hands and hold it up to the light, and he would either throw it back or put it in his pocket. Molly hadn’t seen anyone doing this before, and she wondered what it was the man was looking for.
After this she noticed him at least once every week, and was surprised when he tipped his hat at her as he passed. She had thought he was too busy searching. But he went on, and she walked back to her room.
–///–
The weather became colder as it neared the end of the year, and there were fewer and fewer people down by the beach. Molly still sat, and the man still searched, and he still tipped his hat at her, with a little wave now. Molly realised that she should wave back, so she did, not knowing quite how.
One day, as he was almost in front of her, he gave a cry as he bent down, and she could see that he had found something special. He beamed as he held it up to the light, and she could see something glinting. He looked round, saw her, and started walking towards her.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve just found the most beautiful thing, and I have to show it to someone.” And he held out his palm towards her. Molly couldn’t help leaning forward to look. There, in his palm, glinting in the last rays of the autumn sunset, was a piece of glass, of the deepest blue colour she had ever seen.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” He looked right at her now, and she didn’t know whether to look back or keep her eyes on the glass. Both were equally disconcerting, and she felt herself beginning to blush.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, how rude of me!” He took a step back, although he was still holding out the glass. “I’ve disturbed you. You probably think I’m a lunatic or something!”
“No, no!” she said. “What is it?” And she moved her hand towards the piece of glass.
“Don’t you know? I thought you would. Here!” And he thrust his hand at her, expecting her to take the glass and inspect it. So she did.
“It’s sea glass. When bottles or other glass things end up in the sea they get smashed, and then the sharp edges get rubbed off by the stones and waves, and they get ground away until they’re all gone. This was probably part of a medicine bottle, many years ago.”
He was very talkative, thought Molly. But in a nice way, and he talked about things. She found herself holding the glass up to the light and watching the deep blueness of it flicker and change.
“Would you like it? I’d like to give it to you.” And he stopped, abruptly, as if shocked at himself.
Molly looked down, and found that her hand had already closed around the small warm smooth shape. She nodded. So that’s what he had been doing. Looking for glass.
“How did you find it?” she asked, finally.
“I’d have to show you. It’s easy, you just have to look in a special way. Can I show you?” She nodded again.
They walked for a while, slowly, and he pointed at things amongst the stones that she had never seen, and she started to look, and after a while she saw a small green glint and bent down to pick it up. It was green glass. She showed him.
“That’s it. You’ve got it! This is new glass. See the sharp edges? Probably a beer bottle. But it’s a lovely green!”
And so they walked on, staring intently at their feet as they went, occasionally stopping, and showing each other what they had found. And they talked, almost at random. She found out that he was called Graham, and that he’d moved there after his divorce, and that he used to go looking for sea glass as a boy.
When it was too dark to see properly any more, they said goodbye, Graham tipped his hat again, and they went their separate ways. When she got home she emptied her pockets, but the glass she had seen sparkling in her hands had become dull and pockmarked and lost its colour and brightness. But she wasn’t surprised.
–///–
She didn’t go down to the beach for a few days after that, but the Christmas shoppers became too much, so she went down again one day after work. She could see Graham walking on the stones. He came up to her and tipped his hat again.
“I haven’t seen you here for a while. Have you been ill?” He looked concerned.
“No. it wasn’t that. The glass went dull and it had been so bright.”
Graham laughed. “That’s because it was dry. The glass shines when it’s wet, and that’s how you see it, but it doesn’t like to be dry, so it hides its colour.”
They walked along the beach again, and did so most evenings, searching for sea glass while the days ticked away towards Christmas, and Graham would point things out to her, and she started noticing so much more, as if she had new eyes.
–///–
One day Graham sat down beside her on her bench, and took something from his pocket.
“Molly, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve made you a present. I remember you were sad when your glass stopped shining, so I thought about it, and this is what I came up with.” He thrust the brightly-wrapped package at her.
Molly wasn’t used to being given presents and felt herself blush again. But Graham’s eyes were shining, and she couldn’t refuse. “I haven’t got you anything!” she stammered, but he just waved that away, and gestured for her to open it.
Molly carefully unwrapped it. Inside there was a glass phial, like a small bottle, with a metal cap attached to a chain. Inside the bottle were three tiny perfect pieces of sea glass, one blue, one red and one green. They shone like gems in the light, because they were in clear liquid.
“These are my favourites. I found some special oil, and I sealed it up so they would stay bright. When you find something special, you want to share it with someone.” And he reached out and took her hand.
Molly found herself crying again. But these tears were quite different.
