Her Name Will Be Faith (63 page)

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Authors: Christopher Nicole

BOOK: Her Name Will Be Faith
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"Who got
ashore?" she asked in a low voice; the children were outside.

"It was a monster wave, Jo. I swear it must've
been 60 feet high. We
never stood a chance.
Michael never stood a chance. He was on the helm
and went overboard. Jo… he was great. To the very end he was great.
A
real hero. Without him, we'd have been done far sooner."

"How many?" she
asked again.

"The ship broke up. We
couldn't get Pete up in time… he had a
broken shoulder. And I think Jon had already died; he'd
been flung on
the deck and hit his head.
Larry, Mark and I got the life raft over, but it was torn apart by the wind and
the sea, kept capsizing. We hung on,
somehow,
and gradually the seas started going down. We thought we
were dead..."

"But you got
ashore."

"A helicopter came and winched us up. Seems we
were spotted by a navy weather plane. Larry… Larry didn't make it. Exposure, I
guess. Mark's okay..."

"And so are you, Sam.
Thank God for that," Jo said.

"Listen,
Michael was a hero, Jo. I told you, if it hadn't been for him
we'd have gone down much
sooner."

"Yes," Jo said, and
thought, if it hadn't been for him you wouldn't
have gone down at all – you would have been
snugly moored in Hamilton,
Bermuda. But
that was a thought she would have to keep to herself.

She put the children in the
Cadillac and drove over to Pinewoods. One
look
at the faces of Big Mike and Babs told her that they knew… much more than she.

Babs embraced her. "Oh, Jo," she said.
"We've been hunting for you everywhere. Mike drove into town and went to
the apartment, but you weren't there, and the place was wrecked… we were so
worried."

"When was this?"
Jo asked.

"Yesterday."

"Oh. We were… staying
with a friend."

They went on to the patio; Pinewoods had suffered even
less damage than the cottage, and the children immediately rushed off to change
for
the pool. Jo and Big Mike and Babs sat
on the loungers, silently for
several moments, their brains teeming with
things which had to be said, questions which had to be asked… each afraid to
start.

"Have
you told the children?" Babs asked at last, watching Owen
Michael and Tamsin diving
into the pool.

"No. I only found out
an hour ago, from Sam Davenport. I'm not quite sure how to do it."

Babs nodded. "We haven't told Belle yet. About
either of them."

"Either..." Jo's heart sank into her
stomach; the absence of Marcia
had been one
of the questions she had been afraid to raise. "Marcia? I
tried to
contact them… Friday night. I even went there… but they weren't home."

"They were home
Saturday," Big Mike said. "I drove down there
yesterday, as well, when I was looking for you."

"And?" Jo prompted in a whisper.

"When I told them I was her
father, they let me in to the Village,"
Big Mike said, his voice toneless. "Two army
boys came with me." His
head bent,
and he covered his face with his hands, shoulders heaving.
"They were in the kitchen, in the basement.
The whole goddamned
building was on
top of them. But… they had drowned. Would you
believe it? Drowned, in
their own kitchen."

"Oh, God!" Jo gasped, the breath knocked out
of her body. She remembered her last visit to them, their excitement, their
pride in the transformation of their house – and the baby.

"And then, you," Babs
said. "We didn't know… that man Connors
kept telephoning..."

"Oh," Jo said. "I'd
told him I was leaving town. I guess he was
worried."

"But you didn't leave town," Big Mike said.

"No. We had an accident, so we went back to the
apartment."

"And sat it out there," Babs said. "Was
it very terrible?"

"We sat it out," Jo said, very carefully.

"Tamsin..."

"She's okay. I guess having Owen Michael with her
helped."

"You have to tell them,"
Big Mike said. "They'll cry, but they have a
lot to be proud of." Tears
were streaming down his own face. "Their
daddy died a hero, and he died doing what he liked
best. He'd have defied
that fucking storm
to the end. He was a hero."

"Yes," Jo said. "He was a hero. I won't
let them forget that."

She went inside, and after a
moment Babs followed her. "It was all
over
between you two, wasn't it?"

Jo's shoulders rose and fell. "That doesn't mean
I don't grieve for him,
Babs. I guess the
shock hasn't quite got through to me, yet. He was a
great guy, in his
own way. Just… not a great husband."

"I know." Babs put her arms round her daughter-in-law,
and the two
women wept together. "What
are you going to do?" Babs asked, when
she was able to control her
voice.

"Oh, pick up the pieces, I
guess." She attempted a smile. "There are
an awful lot of pieces to be picked up. I don't even
know if I still have a job."

"You're still our daughter, you know."

Jo wanted to weep afresh. She had no idea how to go
about telling
Babs
about Richard – that would have to wait, for a while at least. And
the children had to come first – although she
had an idea Owen Michael already understood the situation. He and Richard had
appeared to like
each other… but Owen Michael
had thought his father was still
alive. Now… there were crises ahead.
But she would face them, with Richard.

After Jo left, Big Mike
gazed at the pool, shoulders hunched. "Jees," he said. "All
gone. Just like that. Michael, Marcia and Benny, Lawson, Eleuthera… Palmer
tells me the office is wiped out… God Almighty, it'll be like starting from
scratch, all over again."

"Would you like a hand, Dad?" Dale asked,
quietly.

Big Mike glanced at him; the boy had hardly said a
word since hearing of his brother's death.

Dale flushed. "So I don't
have a college degree. But I can learn. If
you'll
have me."

"Have
you? Christ Almighty, boy, if I thought you'd settle down .. .
It's
going to be tough," Big Mike said. "We'll still have our clients, I
guess.
But sorting out the mess… but hell, I reckon that with all of
Wall
Street hit, and the Stock Exchange under several feet of water, we're
all in the same boat. If you're
serious..."

"Try me," Dale said.

Big Mike held out his hand, and his son grasped it.

National American Broadcasting Service
Offices, Fifth Avenue

Six Months Later

"I want you to know,
Richard," said J. Calthrop White, "that when you
were publicly commended by the Mayor of this city
for what you did, I
felt as proud as if I'd done it myself. I was
additionally proud because I knew you had taken such action in the certain
knowledge that I would back you to the hilt, regardless of the
consequences." He did not even
flush as
he spoke, and allowed his gaze to drift over his massed employees
in the
main studio of the rebuilt NABS building. "But I also felt pride in my
entire network, in all my employees, who remained at their posts throughout the
ordeal, and who like that gallant man, Julian Summers, were prepared to die at
their posts."

He paused, and there was a
ripple of applause from the assembled staffers, and a loud sniff from Jayme.

"But I know," JC
went on, "that Julian would have wanted the station
to continue on its glorious way, bringing to the
people of this great nation
the best in television, regardless of the
forces of nature that may be
gathered
against it. And that he, and all of you, will be as proud as myself
when I have to tell you that NABS has been granted
a franchise to operate
a television company in the United Kingdom. The
news came through today."

He paused to allow another
ripple of applause.

"Yes,
folks," he went on, "the news of the acceptance of our bid has
only just been received,
but, and many of you will not know this, the bid was made on that fateful
Saturday last July, and our success is at least
partly due to the unremitting efforts of your Vice-President, Derek
Kiley."
He beamed at Kiley.
"It was Mr Kiley who commanded the ship, if I
may say so, during my
absence, and it was Mr Kiley who brought her safely through."

More
applause, and Kiley gazed at Richard, who gazed back – Kiley
had been in a state of
collapse throughout that day.

"My only
regret," JC continued, "is that I was unable to be here with you
during those terrible hours, to share your burden. You all know how
hard I tried to get to you, and how I was nearly
killed. Yet I bitterly
regret my
absence. So now, Richard, it gives me great pleasure to present
you with
this scroll, signed by all the civic authorities and business organizations in
this city, and by myself, as a small token of our appreci
ation of your actions during the approach of
Hurricane Faith. And to
offer you a new lifetime contract with NABS. I
believe you have already seen the terms."

"Yes," Richard
said.

"And do you
accept?"

Although
his decision had already been taken, and JC knew it, Richard
hesitated before replying.
He had been very tempted to tear the contract
into
little pieces. But he had discussed it with Jo, and realized that would
be
stupid. He was a weatherman. If he didn't work for NABS he would
have to work for some other company – and
the odds were he would discover
another
J. Calthrop White there too. At least, here, he would be listened to
in
the future. "I accept, JC," he said.

JC
shook hands. "Now, finally, ladies and gentlemen," he said. "It
gives
me great pleasure to announce to everyone here your engagement
to
Mrs Josephine Donnelly. I guess everyone here knows that Mrs
Donnelly's husband
perished heroically in the storm. So did two other members of her family, her
brother-in-law and her sister-in-law. The Donnellys were my friends..." he
paused to blow his nose. "That they could have suffered such grievous
losses and come up fighting is a fitting testimony to their characters.
Richard, Jo..." he shook Richard's hand again, gave Jo a kiss on the
cheek, looked uncertainly at Owen Michael and Tamsin, standing together beside
their mother.

"Thank you, JC," Jo said, keeping her face straight
with an effort.

"So now I guess you'll need
time off for a honeymoon, Richard."

"I would appreciate that, sir."

JC smiled as he wagged his
finger. "Just be sure you're back before the
hurricane season. And right now, I would like to ask you a very
important
question."

Richard waited.

"Is there going to be
another Faith, ever again?"

Richard looked into his
eyes, while his hand stole out to hold Jo's. "There could be another Faith
this year, JC. Until we know a lot more about hurricanes, and their movement
and development patterns, every
time there
is a disturbance out there in the Atlantic, it could be the
ultimate
storm. That's something we all need to remember."

 

MAY: The End?

The big amphibian droned through
a cloudless sky, her crew looking
down on
the quiet blue of an untroubled ocean.

"You reckon this has to be the most boring job
ever created?" Bob Landry asked. "Day after goddamned day, just
looking at sea and sky."

"Yeah," Mark
Hammond agreed. "Well, I guess that's it for today, at
least." He thumbed his intercom. "You
ready to turn for home, Doc?
There sure ain't anything to worry about
down there."

"I'd
like to stand on a little further, Mark," Eisener replied. "There's
a report just coming in
about a large stationary cloud mass off Cape Verdes. I think we should take a
look. Don't you?"

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