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Authors: Santa Montefiore

BOOK: Sea of Lost Love
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“Mama,” said Celestria.

“Darling, I think you and I should go into town today. There's going to be an awful lot of clearing up to do, and we don't want to get in the way.”

“Where's Papa?”

Pamela looked around. “Why, that is a little odd. I can't imagine where he's gone. He doesn't like to miss breakfast. Perhaps he's having it in town. You know how he likes to chat to the locals.”

Celestria leaned across the table. “Uncle Archie? Did Papa take your car this morning?”

“No. It was still in the garage when I checked inside for Bouncy. Thought the little devil might have sneaked in during the night. Who'd have thought he'd have snuggled up with Purdy, eh?”

Celestria tapped her fingers on the table with impatience. “Isn't anyone going to do anything?” she exclaimed hotly.

“I shouldn't worry,” said Archie. “He'll come in when he smells the bacon.”

“But his boat's been taken out. What's he doing in the middle of the ocean at this time of the morning?”

“Fishing?” said David with a smirk. “Perhaps he wants a herring for breakfast.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Something's wrong; I can feel it.”

The table fell silent. They all looked at one another, then all eyes settled on Pamela.

“Did Monty go to bed last night?” Archie asked, mopping up the last of his egg yolk with a piece of toast. He didn't appear at all concerned; rather, he was making a show of it for his niece.

“Of course he did.”

“Was he tipsy?”

“Weren't we all?”

“Was he there when you got up?”

“No.” She looked uncharacteristically ashamed. “But then he rarely is, seeing as I often don't get up at all!”

“I think we should look for him,” said Celestria, rising.

“I'll help you!” volunteered Harry excitedly, echoed boisterously by his two cousins. “Maybe he's got caught in one of our traps.”

“This isn't funny, Harry!” Celestria snapped.

“I don't think there's anything to worry about,” said Milton. “If ever there was a fellow capable of looking after himself, it's Monty. He probably took a walk to clear his head. I don't blame him. How about it, squire? My head could do with a little clearing.” The two men got up.

“We'll keep our eyes peeled for Monty.”

“Mother, aren't you going to do anything?” said Celestria irritably. “I'm going down to the beach to see if he's there!”

“Oh, really, darling, you're being overly dramatic!”

“Well, someone has to look for him. If he took that boat out in the storm, he'll most certainly have been drowned. Now how does your coffee taste?” She stalked out of the room.

“Well, I always said she was made for the stage,” said Pamela once she had gone.

“What a morning!” said Julia with a sigh. “Now there's nothing left of the party but rubbish to be cleared away. Still, it was worth it. Archie loved it, and that's what it was all about.”

“The girls loved it, too, rather too much judging by the look on Melissa's face,” said Pamela with a chuckle.

“They're young,” said Penelope. “I remember my first kiss to this day.”

“Do you? Who was it?” Julia asked, flicking ash into the glass ashtray Soames had placed in front of her.

“A man called Willy,” Penelope replied, then gave a little snort.

“I hope kissing you was all Willy did,” said Pamela dryly. “A woman can never trust a willy!”

 

Celestria hurried down the path to the sea. Harry, Wilfrid, and Sam followed her, although they didn't share her concern. Monty was the most reliable, solid man they knew. He was the hero who always saved everyone else. When there was a trap to be laid, Monty knew how to set it and where to place it. If there were camps to be built in the woods, Monty knew the best tree and how to stuff the cracks between the logs with hay. He knew how to light fires with flint and how to roast chestnuts. He could shoot rabbits from a distance, skin them, and fry them for dinner. Besides, he was a master sailor. Once he had made a pirate ship out of his small boat and taken them out into the middle of the sea in search of vessels from Spain, heavy with gold. They had worn eye patches and striped shirts and carried bottles of lemonade Monty called “liquor.” No one understood the tides better than Monty. It was unthinkable that he had drowned at sea.

Celestria now knew why the sea had pulled at her that morning. It hadn't been because of Bouncy, but because it had just digested her father. The serenity of its surface was simply the sleep of a satisfied belly. The air was damp and salty, the sun warm upon her face, the sky a resplendent blue, washed clean by the rain. Celestria felt a sickness in her stomach in spite of the perfection of the morning.

While Celestria stood in the middle of the wide beach, a figure dwarfed by cliffs and rocks, gazing forlornly out to sea, a fisherman, drawing in his net, raised his eyes to where a small boat bobbed about on the horizon. “Oi, Skipper, you see that out there?” he shouted to his friend. Merlin, nicknamed Skipper, stood a moment, shielding his eyes from the sun with a callused hand.

“Looks like a boat,” he replied slowly.

“A fishing boat?” repeated Trevor.

“Motorboat,” said Merlin knowledgeably. “See anyone in it?”

“No, 'less he's sleepin'.” Trevor grinned, revealing a large hole where his two front teeth had been knocked out in a brawl outside the Snout & Hound a few years before.

“We'd better go take a look,” said Merlin. “Let's get this lot in first.” They finished their business, pouring the fish into large barrels, where they wriggled about, gasping for breath, slowly dying. Then they motored over to the boat. They drew their vessel up alongside, causing the small boat to rock about on the swell.

“Well, I'll be damned,” said Trevor, leaning over the side to take a better look. “It's empty.” He rubbed his bristly chin thoughtfully.

“Not a soul,” said Merlin in wonder.

“Where's he gone to, then?”

“Dunno. Eaten by a big fish.” Merlin began to laugh at his own joke. Trevor joined him. He thought everything Merlin said was funny.

“What d'you make of it?” Merlin asked after a while, shaking his head.

“Silly bugger got drunk and drowned. Look, there's a bottle over there.” Sure enough, a champagne bottle lay discarded in one corner, rolling about under the seat.

“Any left?”

“Looks empty from where I'm standing.”

“What's that, then?”

“What?”

“That gold thing, by the bottle.”

“I'm gonna have to get in, aren't I? Bugger!” Trevor stepped over into the little boat. He leaned down and picked up a gold watch on a chain. “Nice!” he said, turning it over. “Pocket watch. Very posh!”

“Does it work?”

Trevor snapped it open as if it were an oyster. “Tells the time like a lady.” He gave a whistle of approval.

“You know my joke about the lady?”

“Go on, then.”

Merlin began to laugh even before he told it. “You ask a lady for a date. If she says no, she means maybe; if she says maybe, she means yes; if she says yes, she ain't no lady!” Trevor turned the watch over.

“R.W.E.M,” he read, squinting. “Who's that, then?”

“Gold watch like that? Can only be one family round here.” Merlin's face grew serious.

“Who's that, then?”

“Robert Montague.”

Trevor whistled and raised his eyebrows. “Blimey,” he said with a smirk. “Let's go back and break the bad news.”

“You have no idea how bad it's goin' to be,” replied Merlin gravely. He wasn't laughing now.

7

W
hen
Princess
was dragged into Pendrift harbor, people began to gather on the quay, drawn by curiosity and the smell of tragedy that blew in off the sea. Merlin tied her to a bollard while Trevor clutched the gold watch. “What's happened to Mr. Montague, Skipper?” a man shouted. “That's his boat, if I'm not mistaken.” Merlin did not know how to reply. Instinctively, he knew the family should be the first to know.

“Nothin',” he replied cagily. “Broke down, that's all.”

The crowd began to mumble among themselves, and Merlin knew they didn't believe him. He hurried up the road towards the Snout & Hound. White with black beams and small dark windows laced with flowers, the Snout & Hound had welcomed weary fishermen and smugglers for well over three hundred years.

“I need to use the telephone,” said Merlin as he entered. The room fell silent, and, through the smoky air, they could see his anxious face and read in it that something terrible had happened. As much as he would have liked to have spoken to Mrs. Julia in private, the telephone was at the bar, where a few of the locals were enjoying an early lunch. No one bothered to look like they weren't listening, and Merlin didn't have the will to tell them to mind their own business; they'd all know soon enough.

“I'd like to speak to the lady of the house,” said Merlin when Soames's condescending voice came on the line.

“I'm afraid Mrs. Julia is indisposed,” he replied.

“Mr. Archie?”

“As well.”

“It's urgent. It's about Mr. Monty. It's Merlin here.”

Soames had recognized Merlin's rusty voice the moment he had heard it, but he didn't like to indulge in small talk with the locals. He wasn't about to bother Mr. Archie, who was in the study with the door closed, and Mrs. Julia was supervising the tidying-up operation in the tent, running about like Purdy in chase of pheasants. However, Merlin sounded very distressed, and Soames was aware that Mr. Monty hadn't attended breakfast.

“Wait a moment, I'll go and find Mrs. Julia,” he said, placing the receiver on the sideboard.

Merlin waited a good five minutes. He could hear Cook's doughy voice complaining about the amount of food left over from the party. “It's indecent,” she was saying. “This would feed an army. It wasn't so long ago that we were still being rationed.” Finally, Soames's voice came back on the line.

“She's taking your call in the sitting room,” he said. There was a click, then Julia's voice came on the line. Soames put down the receiver with some reluctance.

“Hello, Merlin?” She sounded anxious.

“Good morning, Mrs. Julia.”

“What's happened?”

“It's Mr. Monty's boat. We found it out at sea this morning.”

“Wasn't Mr. Monty in it?”

“Only his pocket watch, Mrs. Julia. Trevor's keeping it for you.”

“Good God!” she exclaimed. “I'll send Archie down right away.” She hesitated a moment. Merlin saw that every eye in the pub was upon him. Mouths agape, eyes bulging with interest. Her voice was soft, as if she was afraid of her own words. “You don't think he went overboard, do you?”

“There's a bottle of champagne rattling around in the belly of the boat, Mrs. Julia. I think you should alert the coast guard.”

“Thank you, Merlin.”

Julia put down the receiver, barely daring to breathe. She moved across the room in a trance. Her legs felt as heavy as they did in nightmares when she tried to run from a nameless peril. She found Archie in his office. “Something terrible has happened.” She stood in the doorway, as white as a ghost. “Merlin found Monty's boat out at sea. Monty's nowhere to be seen, but his pocket watch was on board and a bottle of champagne.”

Archie jumped to his feet. “Bloody hell! I'll call the coast guard immediately. You don't think…” His voice trailed off. The look in Julia's eyes was as good as a reply. He swiveled around and picked up the telephone. “Go and tell Milton to meet me in the car,” he added, his voice urgent. “We'll drive down to the harbor at once.” Julia did as she was told. All she could think about was those poor children. If something had happened to Monty…

 

Celestria wandered back up the snake path to the house, followed by the boys and Purdy. Harry didn't understand her anxiety. At twelve, he couldn't imagine anything rocking his secure little world. He chatted to his cousins as if nothing was amiss. Celestria felt nauseous. From the moment she had woken, the world had changed, as if it had shifted on its axis in the night, leaving everything looking the same but being totally different.

When she reached the house, there was pandemonium. Amid the chaos of the clearing-up operation, Julia was sitting on the terrace with Penelope, David, Melissa, and Lotty. She was smoking madly, her face pinched and gray. Celestria's heart stalled. She could guess what they were discussing because they spoke in hushed voices and stopped suddenly when they saw her. Pamela was nowhere to be seen. Neither were her uncles. When she reached the group, they said nothing, just looked from one to the other shiftily, their expressions as solemn as graves.

“Celestria,” said Julia finally, getting up slowly. There was no easy way to tell a child that her father was missing at sea, presumed dead. “Your father's boat has been found.”

“And Papa?” the young woman asked, aware that her voice was little more than a squeak. Julia shook her head, then looked past Celestria to Harry.

“What's up?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“It's Papa. I told you!” Celestria wailed. Julia rushed over to embrace them.

“They've found his boat, Harry. He wasn't in it, but his pocket watch was, which leads us to believe he was in it at some stage last night. He always wears it with white tie. Unless,” she added hopefully, “he dropped it without noticing when he disembarked, before someone else stole the boat. That's a possibility, isn't it?”

Lotty put an arm around Celestria. “The coast guard are out looking for him,” she said. “I'm sure he's safe. We're all worrying for nothing.”

“There's probably a very simple explanation,” Julia agreed.

“Knowing my brother as I do, I would agree with Julia,” said Penelope. “Monty's not the type to throw himself overboard. Life's much too good!”

“What was he doing out there in the first place? So early in the morning?” Celestria was baffled. “Where's Mama?” No one spoke up. “She doesn't know?” Celestria was shocked, though not surprised. They were all much too scared of her mother's reaction to be the one to break the bad news. “Well, I'm going to find her,” she said, and stalked out.

Upstairs, Celestria found her mother in her bedroom, standing at the windowsill in her dressing gown, with Poochi in her arms. She was looking out over the sea as if she already knew it had swallowed her husband. “Mama,” Celestria said. “Papa's lost at sea. They've found his boat and his pocket watch.”

Pamela turned to face her daughter. “What are you talking about?”

“Papa's missing. They've found his boat, but he wasn't in it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Certain. Uncle Archie and Uncle Milton have gone down to the harbor. The coast guard are already looking for him.”

Pamela dissolved into tears. “They think he's dead?” She sank onto the window seat. “I just don't believe it. Why would he take that darn boat out at such a god-awful hour of the morning?”

“Did you fight last night?”

Pamela was affronted. “Of course not!”

“Were you drunk?”

“Not particularly.”

“Are you sure?” She recalled her mother's shaking hands and unsteady walk.

“Of course I'm sure. Okay, he might have been a little tipsy, but not enough to do something stupid. Monty isn't like that, as you know. Besides, he would have left a note.”

At that moment the doorknob rattled. Both women turned their eyes to the door in the hope that Monty might walk through it, but instead Harry's worried face peered around it. “Is it true?” he asked in a small voice.

“Don't you worry, Harry, darling,” exclaimed his mother, floating over to embrace him in tuberose and pink silk. “Your father's going to be fine. He's probably having a cup of coffee in town, reading the papers. You know what he's like. We must all stop worrying. What will he think when he finds us in such a state?” She gathered him into her arms, pressing her powdered cheek against his.

 

Down at the harbor Merlin was waiting for Mr. Archie. A large crowd had gathered on the quay, mumbling among themselves, imagining all sorts of implausible reasons for Mr. Monty's disappearance. The most likely, they all agreed, was that he had been kidnapped, possibly by pirates.

They fell silent when Archie drove up in his Rover, parking it in front of the Snout & Hound. The pub had now completely emptied of customers, barmaids, and the publican himself, who had joined the throng outside in the hope of seeing a body at the very least.

“Good God,” said Archie to his brother-in-law. “What's going on here?”

They climbed out of the car and walked over. The crowd parted to let them through, the men taking off their hats to show their respect. Archie recognized most of the faces but didn't know them as well as his brother did. In spite of his class, Monty had enjoyed many a beer and a game of darts at the Snout & Hound and shared a great deal of laughter in his typically uninhibited way.

Merlin tipped his hat. “Here she is, Mr. Archie,” he said gravely, pointing to the boat. Trevor emerged from behind his friend and opened his hand to reveal the pocket watch. Archie took it.

“Well, this is certainly his watch,” he said softly, his eyes tracing the initials that their father had had engraved to mark Monty's twenty-first birthday. That now seemed like another life. He dropped it in his pocket.

“How did you find it, Merlin?”

Merlin scratched his beard. “We were fishing. 'Bout nine o'clock this morning. It was misty out here, which makes me think that if Mr. Monty had been out early, he might have got lost.” Archie nodded thoughtfully. Merlin continued. “Trevor saw it first. It was far out. Must 'ave drifted. When we got to it,
Princess
was empty but for the watch and the bottle.”

Archie raised his eyebrows. “Bottle?” he repeated. He narrowed his eyes and glanced at Milton. Milton shrugged. Monty wasn't a boozer. Merlin nodded at Trevor, who climbed into the boat and dropped onto his knees to reach the champagne bottle that was hidden at the back, under the seat. He handed it to Merlin.

“Well, look at that!” he exclaimed, holding the bottle up for everyone to see. “There's a note inside.”

“A letter in a bottle?” said Milton incredulously. “It must be a joke.”

“If it's a joke, it's in poor taste,” Archie added, his eyes sliding over the curious throng. He took the bottle from Milton and tried to shake out the piece of paper, but the note remained firmly inside the bottle.

“You're going to have to break it, Mr. Archie,” said Merlin. The crowd began to get impatient. The mumbling grew louder. Perhaps it was a note from the kidnapper. Or a prank of his own. They all knew Monty could be a bit of a prankster.

Suddenly the crowd was forced to part as a police officer fought his way through.

“Ah, Inspector Trevelyan,” said Archie, shaking the man's hand.

Inspector Trevelyan was unmistakable, with a white foamy mustache and wild gray eyebrows, a distended bottom lip that never smiled, and a shiny nose that looked like a lump of melted wax. In his tweed cap and beige raincoat he was as much of a landmark as the Snout & Hound, having been a part of Pendrift for longer than anyone could remember.

“No sign of him, I'm afraid,” he informed Archie grimly. “We've got a team scouring the cliffs, and the coast guard are out at sea. So far, nothing.” Inspector Trevelyan turned his attention to the bottle. “What's that in there?”

“That's what we're trying to find out,” Archie replied. “The damn thing won't budge.”

“You'll have to break it, sir,” said Inspector Trevelyan.

Archie wasn't certain he wanted the entire town to witness what was in the note. If it was indeed a prank, he'd look very stupid. If it was worse, they had no business knowing. He waded through them like he often waded through his herd of cows, pushing them apart with his hands. Then he bent on one knee and knocked the thin end of the bottle against the rocks beneath the quay. The top came off in one piece and dropped into the sea with a plop. Careful not to cut himself on the broken glass, he withdrew the note.

It was a single piece of paper taken from the house. From Archie's study, to be precise. Top left-hand drawer, where he kept his writing paper and cards. On it were written two words. Two words that made no sense at all, but in Monty's handwriting.

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