The Other Side of Nowhere (27 page)

We slipped into the shade of the yacht’s stern and pulled up alongside a narrow platform just slightly below the water. The name
Southern Belle
was written in glittering gold letters across the stern.

Matt climbed up and held the dinghy close as George took Amira onto the platform. I tied the dinghy to the stern before joining the others. Then, motioning to them to keep quiet, I climbed up the ladder and stepped lightly into the cockpit.

The yacht was at least twice the size of
The Dolphin
. The first thing I saw was a long wooden table set for breakfast. A jug of juice sat in the middle surrounded by jars of jam, peanut butter and margarine. There were plates, knives and forks and glasses laid out for three, yet we’d only noticed two sets of footprints on the beach.

‘Ahem. Hello there, is anyone home?’

George, Matt and Amira, now awake, climbed into the cockpit behind me. George took Amira by the hand and they sat on one of the benches covered in luxurious blue and white striped cushions that surrounded the cockpit. Matt went to pour himself a juice and I waved him away. Scowling, he stepped back and sat with the girls.

‘I’ll take a look below,’ I whispered to the others. ‘Wait here.’ I was about halfway down the stairs when I heard a rustling noise from inside the cabin. ‘Umm, hello? Is someone …’

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a movement, then a hooded figure sprang out from behind the stairs, arms waving wildly, holding a large kitchen knife.

‘Whoa! Take it easy.’

‘Get out! Get out!’ screamed a high-pitched voice from within the hood. My eyes fixed on the blade waving erratically in my face.

‘I said
get out
!’

I slowly took a step backwards up the stairs, holding my hands above my head. As I did, I glimpsed brown, slender legs and grey boxer shorts covered in pink monkeys. I realised the hand on the knife was tipped with bright blue nail polish.

‘Hey, hey listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

‘Who says I’m frightened?’ It was definitely a girl’s voice.

‘You’re American?’ It was the only thing I could think of to say. The hood tilted to the side.

‘What? So?’

Then the hood fell off. A tangle of dark brown hair fell out across a long, tanned neck. She had large green eyes that narrowed as she sized me up. She was seriously pretty.

I could feel a smile spreading across my face. I must have looked like an idiot. ‘So … um, welcome to Australia,’ I said.

I thought I saw a flash of a smile on her lips, but then she raised the shiny knife again. ‘What? Who are you? Who else is up there?’

‘Um, well, I’m John, but everyone calls me Johnno. Up there is my brother Matt, my cousin George … she’s a girl, and then there’s Amira. She’s six and, well, she’s kind of a refugee, I guess.’

‘She’s a what?’ The knife flashed and thrust forward again.

I realised I was probably not making any sense, so I took a deep breath and paused, trying to collect my thoughts. ‘Look, we didn’t mean to … trespass. We just really need help. Your help.’

For a moment she didn’t respond at all, as if she hadn’t even heard what I’d said. The girl was about my height and I figured about my age. Her eyes narrowed again, like she was trying to decide whether I was some kind of psycho or actually telling the truth. She chewed on her lip as she mulled over what to do or say next. The knife lowered but remained firmly gripped by her side.

‘Johnno … is everything ok?’ I heard George call.

‘Yep, everything’s cool,’ I answered over my shoulder. ‘Just coming back up.’

I backed slowly up the stairs, watching the girl. She seemed happy enough to let me go up. Matt, George and Amira were huddled together along a bench seat at the rear of the cockpit and they looked at me questioningly as I came to sit next to them. I shook my head and waited for the girl to come up the stairs. After a few moments she appeared in the doorway, glancing furtively left and right as if anticipating someone might be lurking in the corners, lying in wait.

George offered her sunniest smile. ‘It’s just us … You really don’t have to worry.’

‘You know, my parents are going to be back any minute.’

‘Not unless they’re good swimmers,’ said Matt.

The girl frowned.

‘We kinda … borrowed their dinghy,’ I explained.

‘I could call the police, you know.’

Slapping my hands on my knees, I stood up. ‘Yes! Exactly.’

‘Please. And the sooner the better!’ added George emphatically. ‘That’s why we’re here – we need a phone or a radio to call for help.’

The girl’s eyes were darting around nervously. She was still holding the knife, but at least it was by her side and not waving in my face.

‘This is Amira,’ said George in a more gentle tone, wrapping a protective arm around her. ‘She’s been through a lot. I’m Georgina, by the way … And you are?’

‘… Stephanie,’ said the girl after a brief pause.

George gave her a friendly smile. ‘Hi, Stephanie.’

‘Yeah, hi, Stephanie,’ I said clearing my throat. ‘Listen, I don’t mean to be rude –’

‘Ruder than you’ve been already, you mean?’ Stephanie said, raising her eyebrows.

‘What Johnno means, I think, is that we know you’ve probably got a heap of questions, but we don’t have a lot of time to explain,’ interrupted George. ‘We need to contact the police or the coastguard or someone right away. There’s a friend of ours still on the island, and we think he might be in trouble.’

Stephanie hesitated, still unsure. Then, with a subtle shake of her head, she motioned down the stairs. ‘There’s a radio down below … And a satellite phone somewhere … Probably on the chart table.’

‘Thank you,’ said George with a relieved smile. ‘Could you help me make the call?’

Stephanie let George pass and turned to follow her down the stairs. Then she looked back at Amira and gave a faint smile. ‘I’ll get some bread. You all look like you might be –’

But before she had a chance to finish, Matt yelled out so loud it made everyone jump. ‘Hey, look! On the beach … It’s Nick!’

Nick had emerged from the bush and was heading along the beach towards us. I felt an incredible surge of relief and was about to stand up on the cabin roof and shout to him, but almost immediately I realised something was wrong. He wasn’t moving right. Rather than running, he was sort of lurching along, doubled over, holding his stomach.

I leapt up onto the seat and straddled the rail to get a better look.

‘Hey, stop that,’ shouted Stephanie.

‘No you stop!’ I snapped and then checked myself. ‘Look, I’m sorry we got you involved but we haven’t got time to muck about. We have to get out of here.’

As soon as I said it I knew that was exactly what we had to do. I climbed back into the cockpit and tapped Matt on the shoulder. ‘Matty, grab the boat and go get Nick … I’ll get the anchor up.’

Matt hurdled the railing, jumped down into the dinghy and took up the oars.

Stephanie was standing with her mouth open, unsure of what to do. I spoke calmly and clearly to her. ‘Stephanie, we need you to start the boat and send a mayday call.’

‘You can’t just take my parents’ –’ she started.

‘Watch me,’ I said, pushing past her and leaping onto the narrow deck alongside the cabin.

‘Well, don’t think I’m helping you,’ she yelled after me.

‘George – make the call,’ I called over my shoulder as I moved towards the tip of the bow. A thick chain hung over the side, falling straight down into the sea. The water was so clear I could see the chain snaking along the sandy bottom towards a distant anchor.

I lifted a piece of chain and pulled but it wouldn’t budge. For a second I thought I’d have to slink back into the cockpit with my tail between my legs to ask Stephanie how to get the anchor up. But then I noticed a large black button on the floor next to the chain. I pressed it with my foot and somewhere beneath the deck a motor whirred. Slowly the chain started to clunk its way up onto the deck and feed back into its compartment, link by link, until at last the anchor appeared out of the water.

Moving quickly back around the side I could hear snippets of George making the call. She was yelling, desperately trying to make whoever was on the other end understand how urgently we needed help. I craned my neck to look over the stern of the yacht and saw Matt was getting close to Nick, who had waded into the water to meet the boat.

I raced to the stern of the yacht just as George came up the stairs. She looked worried. ‘We might have a problem.’

‘What?’

‘I radioed a mayday and got through to some emergency service, but someone else answered, too. They said they were from the Shell Harbour fleet and that they were nearby.’

‘Was it
The Free Man
?’ I said, suddenly realising that a distress call could be picked up by anyone, including the exact people we didn’t want to hear it.

‘I don’t know. Maybe?’ said George, looking worried.

‘We have to get going quick.’

Stephanie appeared beside me. She flipped open a plastic cover next to the steering wheel and pressed a black button. Instantly the motor gurgled to life with a deep growl.

‘Now what, Captain Sparrow?’ she said with a wry smile. I noticed that a pair of denim shorts and a turquoise T-shirt had replaced the pink monkey pyjamas.

‘Can you get us closer to the beach?’

She nodded towards an array of dials and gauges on the bulkhead wall. ‘What’s the middle one say?’

I peered at the dial in the middle. ‘One point six.’

She shook her head. ‘There’s only one and a half metres of water beneath the keel. We can’t get much closer.’

‘We have to try.’

‘If we bottom out, we’ll be stuck,’ she persisted.

‘Just try.’

‘Okay, okay, I’ll try, but don’t blame me when we run aground.’

She eased open the throttle and spun the wheel hard to the right. The yacht surged forward, then started to circle back towards the shore. Matt was helping Nick into the dinghy. In a couple of minutes we’d get to them.

‘Johnno, look!’ George was pointing to the headland. My heart sank and all the hope that had been building only moments before seemed to shrivel into a tangled knot in the pit of my stomach.

Coming around the point, only a few hundred metres away, was
The Free Man.