November-Charlie (8 page)

“I could have been killed. I didn’t think. I just jumped straight in there.” Lou’s voice wobbled, and she buried her face in Deefer’s fur and began to sob. Great big heartrending sobs as the reality of what she had done finally hit her. If she’d died out there, she’d have left her mum alone without anyone. Mum only had her since Dad died and now she didn’t even have that.

Staci wrapped her arms around her, not saying anything.

Finally, Lou sucked in a deep breath. “Should probably do lunch.”

Staci nodded. “Cake. And chocolate. Not healthy, but the best thing when you’re sad.”

“Sounds good to me.” She rubbed her hands over her eyes and followed Staci back inside.

Deefer went straight to his bowl and tucked into his lunch.

Lou grabbed the glasses while Staci picked up the cake and the chocolate.

As they entered the bridge, Jim smiled at Lou. “Fancy a sailing lesson?”

Lou put the glasses on the table. “I didn’t think you trusted me.”

Jim turned and took hold of her arms. “I’m sorry. Lou, you’ve got more guts than I have. You saw people in trouble and you put your own life in danger to help them. You saved three lives this morning. You are one of, if not the, bravest person I know. Of course, I trust you. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I don’t want to lose you, that’s all. I like you too much. And I
want
to teach you to sail, OK?”

Lou nodded. Perhaps in time like would turn to something else, especially if he was teaching her sailing in this enclosed space. “And I’d like to learn.”

“Good. The autopilot and radar do all the hard work. The only time we really need manual control is while in port or the Panama Canal. But we can’t leave it because it can’t change course to avoid obstacles that it has seen and we haven’t.”

“Such as?” Lou asked.

“Lighthouses.”

Staci snorted. “Oh, come on. Don’t be silly. Even I know a lighthouse when I see one. So what happens when it spots a lighthouse and we don’t?”

“An alarm sounds and you take appropriate action. So, fancy a lesson in sailing, Lou?” He walked over to the helm.

Lou followed and gingerly took the wheel in her hands.

“Hold it firmly,” Jim told her. “It won’t bite.” He stood quietly while she got used to how
Avon
felt. Then he pointed out the throttle, compass, and the panel with the course-heading dial on it. “The lights are there, foghorn, speedometer for want of a better word, autopilot...”

“Speaking of autopilot when are you turning it off?”

“It’s been off for the past five minutes,” he told her with a laugh. “See, I told you that you could do it.”

Jim switched the autopilot back on and stood at the wheel. “So long as one of us is on the bridge all the time we’ll be fine.”

“What about nights?” Staci asked.

“What I would suggest is a shift system. Three four-hour shifts during the day with the night being split into two six-hour shifts. If necessary I’ll do all night, grabbing sleep when I can.”

“We’ve got a couple of days yet,” Lou said. “Especially if we are stopping overnight while we can. Time to sort things out before we need it.” She looked at Jim. “And don’t even think about sending us home.”

“Look, there are the Needles.”

Noting he’d changed the subject, but not commenting for now, Lou grabbed the camera and took a photo. “The English Channel, and it’s not even lunch time. Are we stopping tonight?”

“I wasn’t planning on stopping before Land’s End. I want to get there as quickly as I possibly can. Mum and Dad need us.”

“OK.” She sipped her juice.

Staci crossed over to Jim and leaned against him.

We did the right thing
. She felt a pang of guilt over the way they had upped and gone. She’d seen dozens of appeals on the television from frantic parents whose children had gone missing. The tearful mothers and worried fathers always flanked by the severe faced police officers at the press conferences, pleading for information, for the person who’d taken the children to come forward and return them. Usually they never did and the missing children case turned into a murder hunt.

This was what they were putting her mother through, but what choice did they have? Jim and Staci needed their parents and no one else was doing anything. So it was up to them to go and find them.

~*~

Jim watched the land slip past on the port side of the boat. He still couldn’t believe the girls had been stupid enough to stow away, or that he was stupid enough not to send them back. Admittedly, he’d almost done so at customs and then again, when the police boat waved them over earlier.

When Lou had thrown herself into the water to save those injured police officers, it had changed things. He didn’t want to get caught and sent home for doing the right and decent thing. He didn’t want to lose someone else whom he loved. He’d lost enough over the past few weeks without losing anymore.

He knew how tough it would be to cross the Atlantic. To the girls it was just a big adventure. In reality, it was anything but. Planning it was one thing, as was sitting on board her safely tied up in the harbor. Taking her to the Philippines was another thing all together.

If they did get there, would they find his parents?

Of course, he’d find get there and find them.

6

Lou clattered up the steps onto the bridge. “So dinner,” she said. “Are you—” She broke off peering over his shoulder. “What are you doing? Have you broken the boat already?”

Jim jumped and turned, a sheet of labels in his hands. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“What are you doing?” She looked at the controls. “Honestly, Jim. You can take this space thing too far, you know.”

Above the engine controls was a sticker marked impulse engines. Above the radio and intercom it said comm system. The foghorn was marked collision alert. The ship’s log was marked duty log and the diary log marked captain’s log. There were a whole pile of stickers marked up, which he had yet to put up, including bridge, mess hall, officers’ quarters and engine room.

Jim pointed to the poster he’d put up on the bridge door. “You can never take it too seriously,” he said.

“Are you cooking tonight?” she asked, reading the poster.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Ah, no. Joe King was my grandfather, actually.”

“Oh, ha, ha, ha. And, no, I’m not, unless you like burnt toast. Cos that’s my specialty.”

“Whatever happened to sharing all the jobs?” Lou asked.

“Wore off quickly if you ask me,” Staci replied. “Why do some men find cooking so hard and yet most of the best chefs are men?”

Lou grinned. “That’s easy. Probably trying to impress their girlfriends.”

“Jim doesn’t have one, therefore he doesn’t need to cook.”

“Never will if he doesn’t learn.” Lou laughed.

“I don’t need to learn to cook. You two stowed away, therefore you two can do it.”

Staci looked at him. “We shall remember this,” she told him.

“I am so scared.”

“You should be,” Lou said, heading back down to the galley to find something to cook. “Be afraid, be very afraid.”

Staci made a list of everything they had and it didn’t take them long to realize they had a major problem. Jim had shopped for one person, not three, well, four including the dog. Unless he planned to stop in France or Spain, they needed to shop before they reached Land’s End.

Lou followed Staci up to the bridge and watched the younger girl take on her brother. She was a regular firebrand when she got going.

“Jim, we have a problem.”

“Already? I can’t leave you girls alone for a minute, can I?”

“There’s not enough food to last us a week, never mind several.”

“That’s not my fault. I wasn’t expecting company.”

“As I don’t speak French, nor does Lou, we need to stop somewhere in England for more food.”

“Too dangerous,” Jim said. “It has to be France.”

“Look, Jim,” Lou said, coming up behind Staci, with the dog at her heels. “Unless you want a mutiny, I suggest you stop somewhere in Cornwall. There are plenty of small ports along the coast. I can shop and take Deefer for a walk.” She leant over the map. “How about here? Or here? So long as it’s not a big town. We can stop overnight, shop first thing. After all, it’d be easier to get used to the galley oven when you’re not moving the boat so much.”

Jim sighed. “OK. I give in. Anywhere in particular?”

“Nope, just pick one. Staci and I will make a list while I cook.”

~*~

The next morning Lou held out her hand to Jim, who automatically handed over his card. She already knew his PIN—with Jim it could only be one set of numbers, so hadn’t been hard to guess.

“Don’t go mad,” he warned her.

“Thanks. As if I would. See you after lunch.” With that, she charged down the steps, whistling to Deefer. She grabbed her bag and shoving Jim’s card inside it, was ashore before the others could argue.

Lou and Deefer walked along the quay. At the end the road branched into three. “Village that way,” she read. “That figures, up the hill. At least it’s only three-quarters of a mile. Come on, Deefer, let’s go.”

The road was cobbled and a lot steeper than it looked. Low-roofed cottages lined the road, with climbing roses or ivy trailing up the sides. Some of them were thatched. Masses of snapdragons and roses, hollyhocks and lupines filled the gardens. Washing hung in some of the gardens and the occasional cat sunned itself on garden walls.

Both Lou and Deefer were quite puffed when they reached the village. Turning round, Lou noticed a sign proclaiming the hill as a one-in-three. For every one foot across you climbed up three.

The village bustled with activity and was set out in typical fashion, with the church, general store, and pub in the center and houses around the edge. A village green was off to one side. Flags hung from some of the houses and banners festooned the green.

Signs proclaimed a village fete and art fair at the weekend and the locals were busy preparing for it. The smell of baking cakes and bread flowing from almost every kitchen made Lou hungry. She crossed over to the shop and tied Deefer up outside. “Back in a bit,” she told him.

Deefer settled down, content in the sun and pleased that the ground no longer moved beneath his feet.

The bell tinkled as she entered the general store announcing her presence to the storekeeper. Lou stood in amazement. She hadn’t realized that shops like this still existed. All the goods except cards, paper and newspaper were behind the counter.

The storekeeper came out from the back room. Grey hair in a bun and an apron over a long skirt, she looked like someone straight from the pages of a history book. “Sorry to keep you,” she said, in a broad Cornish accent. “How can I help you?”

“I need a few things,” Lou said. “I have a list.”

Lou gave her the shopping list and went to look at the postcards. She picked out a couple and then caught sight of the newspapers. She picked up one of the papers and took it across to the counter. “Is there a chemist here?” she asked.

“Aye, three doors down. Do you want to come back for this in a bit?”

“If that’s all right?”

“No problem. It’ll take me thirty minutes to sort and pack it for you. I’ll keep it out back until you come back.”

“Thank you.”

Deefer was asleep in the sunshine so she went to the chemist on her own. She bought travel pills, just in case, and stocked up on aspirin and pain reliever. Having done that, she explored the village a bit more. She found a bank with an ATM. She pulled out Jim’s card and withdrew some money. It was only as she put the card and money in her purse the thought struck her. Jim’s bank statement would go to her place. If her mother opened it, she’d just sent a ‘we were here’ message. Oh well, they wouldn’t be here for long.

She went back to the general store.

Deefer still dozed.

On the village green the marquee was half up. Opposite, two men on a ladder strung bunting across some of the houses. As she entered, the bell tinkled again and the storekeeper looked up from her knitting.

“Hello dear,” she said. “You picked up one of yesterday’s papers, so I swapped it for one of today’s. I assume that’s what you wanted.”

“Please,” Lou said. She glanced at the headlines and to her horror saw photos of Jim and Staci on the front page staring back at her. She tried to keep her feelings of shock and terror to herself, but her face must have betrayed her.

“Awful story that,” said the storekeeper. “All over the television and radio, too. Three of them, just upped and left. What that poor mother is going through is anyone’s guess. No respect for their elders today, that’s the problem. That’ll be thirty five pounds, please.”

Lou paid for the shopping and took the eight bags, four in each hand. She’d only just got over to where the dog was still asleep, when one of the bags broke. Tins of food rolled in all directions. She put the rest of the bags down and groaned. This was the last thing that she needed. She began to pick up the tins and tried to put them into the other bags.

Of course, eight bags’ worth of items would not go in to seven and Lou sat down on the bench next to Deefer.

He looked at Lou enquiringly and nuzzled her as the tears slid down her face.

She would never get the shopping back down the hill to the boat. She couldn’t leave it here and with their faces all over the papers, there was no way that Jim or Staci could help. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place with no way out.

A shadow fell over her and an accented voice asked, “Is this tin one of yours?”

“Probably,” Lou sobbed, without looking up. “It may as well stay where you found it though. I can’t manage all this anyway.”

“Sounds like you could do with a friend,” the voice said. “Or at least a shoulder to cry on.” The owner of the voice sat down next to her and handed her a tissue. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Lou said taking it. She blew her nose and rubbed her eyes. “You’re not from round here, are you?”