When Robin returned to the hotel later that evening, only one other member of the team felt able to join him for dinner. Robin wondered whether the rest would have recovered sufficiently to be standing on the first tee by ten o’clock the following morning. Though in truth, he was already thinking more about tomorrow evening.
Southend somehow managed a full turnout by the time the chief steward asked the two captains to tee up at the first hole.
As the visiting captain, Robin struck the first ball. Five hours later the score board showed that the Royal Jersey had beaten Southend Golf Club by four and a half matches to three and a half. Not a bad result, Robin considered, given the circumstances, but then he’d never played a better round in his life, which may have been because Diana seemed to be following Nigel around the course. Another home advantage.
After a few drinks in the clubhouse, with no sign of Diana, the Southend team returned to their hotel to change for dinner. Robin was the first one waiting in the foyer. Nervously he touched his bow tie after he’d checked with the receptionist that three taxis had been ordered for seven o’clock.
Robin didn’t speak on the journey back to the Royal Jersey, and when he led his team into the dining room, Nigel was waiting to greet him. Diana was standing by his side. Lucky man, thought Robin.
‘Good to see you again, old fellow,’ Nigel said, and turning to Diana, he added, ‘I don’t believe you’ve met my sister.’
‘You’re going to do what?’ said his father.
‘I’m going to move to Jersey, where I intend to open a branch of Chapman’s Cleaning Services.’
‘But I always thought you planned to open a second branch in Southend, while I took over the main shop,’ said Malcolm, sounding equally bemused by his brother’s news.
‘You’ll still be taking over the main shop, Malcolm, while I open our first overseas branch.’
Robin’s father seemed to be momentarily struck dumb, so his mother took advantage of this rare occurrence. ‘What’s the real reason you want to go back to Jersey?’ she asked, looking her son in the eye.
‘I’ve found the finest golf course on earth, Mother, and if they’ll have me, I intend to become a member and play on it for the rest of my life.’
‘No,’ said his mother quietly, ‘I asked for the real reason.’ The rest of the family remained silent as they waited for Robin’s reply.
‘I’ve found the most beautiful woman on earth, and if she’ll have me, I’d like her to become my wife.’
Robin boarded the boat back to Jersey the following Friday, despite having failed to answer his mother’s third question: ‘Has this young lady agreed to be your wife?’
The only thing Diana had agreed to was to join him on the dance floor for a quickstep, but during those three minutes Robin knew he wanted to hold on to this woman for the rest of his life. ‘I’ll be coming back next weekend,’ he told her.
‘But the team are playing away at Wentworth next Saturday,’ she remarked innocently.
Robin was surprised to find Diana standing on the quayside when the ferry sailed into the harbour the following Saturday. Whom had she come to meet, he wondered, and only hoped it wasn’t another man.
When he stepped off the gangway, Diana gave him the same warm smile that had remained in his mind for the past week.
‘I wasn’t sure you believed me when I said I’d be coming back,’ he said shyly as they shook hands.
‘I wasn’t sure you would,’ admitted Diana, ‘but then I thought, if the poor man is willing to give up a weekend’s golf just to spend some time with me, the least I can do is meet him off the boat.’
Robin smiled at the thought that he couldn’t even remember who Southend were playing that day, and took Diana’s hand as they walked along the causeway.
If you had asked him how they spent the weekend, all he could remember was reluctantly climbing back on the ferry on Sunday evening, after kissing her for the first time.
‘See you same time next Saturday, Diana,’ he shouted down as he leaned over the railings, but the boat’s foghorn drowned his words.
Diana was standing on the quayside the following Saturday, and every Saturday until Robin stopped taking the ferry back to Weymouth.
During the week, Robin would book a trunk call so they could speak to each other every evening. Diana spent her spare time looking at properties in St Helier that might meet his requirements. She finally found a shop on the high street whose lease was about to expire, with a hotel across the road that needed to change its bed linen and towels every day, and several restaurants that believed in spotless napkins and fresh tablecloths. Robin agreed that it was the ideal location to open a branch of Chapman’s Cleaning Services.
The following Saturday he signed a three-year renewable lease, and immediately moved into the flat above the shop. If he hadn’t won Diana’s hand by the end of the lease, and also become a member of the Royal Jersey Golf Club, he would have to admit defeat, return to the mainland and open a second branch of Chapman’s in Southend.
Although he was confident that, given time, both challenges would be surmounted, becoming a member of the RJGC turned out to be a far more difficult proposition than getting Diana to agree to be his wife.
It didn’t take long for Robin to qualify as a playing member of the Royal Jersey, and he was delighted when Nigel invited him to represent the club in the hotly contested local derby against Guernsey. Robin won his match, and proposed to Diana that night.
‘What if you hadn’t been picked for the team?’ she asked, unable to take her eyes off the small, sparkling diamond on the third finger of her left hand.
‘I’d have whisked you off to England and sunk the Weymouth ferry,’ said Robin without hesitation.
Diana laughed. ‘So, what are my champion’s plans for conquering the old guard who make up the committee of the Royal Jersey?’
‘They’ve granted me an interview next month,’ he told her, ‘so we’ll soon find out if we’re going to spend the rest of our lives in St Helier or Southend-on-Sea.’
‘Don’t forget that only one in three people who apply for full membership even get on to the waiting list,’ Diana reminded him.
Robin smiled. ‘Possibly so, but with Lord Trent as my proposer, and your brother as my seconder, I must have a better than one-in-three chance.’
‘So that’s why you asked me to marry you,’ Diana said, still staring at her ring.
When the appointed hour came for Robin to appear before the committee, he admitted to Diana that he had never been so nervous, even though everyone seated on the other side of the table seemed to smile whenever he answered their undemanding questions, and nods of approval greeted the Englishman’s detailed knowledge of the life of Harry Vardon.
Ten days later, Robin received a letter from the club secretary to say that his application had been successful and his name would be placed on the waiting list.
‘The waiting list?’ said Robin in frustration. ‘How long do they expect me to hang about before I become a member?’
‘My brother warned me,’ said Diana, ‘that if you weren’t born on the island, it usually takes ten to fifteen years.’
‘Ten to fifteen years?’ repeated Robin in disgust, before adding, ‘Lord Trent wasn’t born on the island.’
‘True,’ said Diana, ‘but at the time the committee was looking for a new president, preferably with a title, so they made him an honorary life member.’
‘And are there any other honorary life members?’
‘Only Harry Vardon,’ replied Diana.
‘Well, I’m no Harry Vardon,’ said Robin.
‘There’s one other way you could automatically become a life member,’ said Diana.
‘And what’s that?’ said Robin eagerly.
‘Win the President’s Cup.’
‘But I was knocked out in the second round last year,’ Robin reminded her. ‘In any case, your brother’s in a different class to me.’
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p; ‘Just make sure you get to the final this year,’ said Diana. ‘I’ll fix my brother.’
Robin and Diana were married at the local parish church later that summer. The vicar agreed to conduct the ceremony on a Sunday, but only because the Royal Jersey had a crucial match against Rye on the Saturday.
Robin’s father, mother and brother had travelled over on the ferry from Southampton earlier in the week, and they spent a happy few days getting to know Diana. Long before the day of the wedding, Sybil fully understood why her son had wanted to return to Jersey after one dance. When the bride walked down the aisle, she found that the ceremony was so well attended that extra chairs had been placed at the back of the church.
Mr and Mrs Chapman left the parish church of St Helier as man and wife, to be greeted with a shower of confetti thrown by Diana’s friends, while two rows of young men in RJGC blazers held up golf clubs to form an arch all the way to their waiting car.
The reception was held at the Royal Jersey, where Malcolm delivered such an accomplished best-man’s speech that it came as no surprise to Robin that Chapman’s of Southend continued to flourish in his absence.
Lord Trent rose to reply on behalf of the guests. He let slip the worst-kept secret on the island when he told everyone that the newly-weds would be sailing around the French coast on his yacht for their honeymoon, but only for ten days, because Robin needed to be back in time for the first round of the President’s Cup. Diana couldn’t be sure if he was joking.
When Mr and Mrs Chapman sailed into St Helier ten days later, the skipper informed Lord Trent that Robin had turned out to be such a good sailor that he had allowed him to take the wheel whenever he needed a break.
The following day, Robin was knocked out in the first round of the President’s Cup.
Robin and Diana quickly settled into their new home on the seafront, and for the first time since he’d arrived in Jersey, Robin had to walk to work. Eleven months later, Diana gave birth to a boy whom they christened Harry.
‘Will you do anything to become a member of that damned club?’ Diana asked her husband as she sat in the hospital bed surrounded by flowers and cards from well-wishers.
‘Anything,’ replied Robin, picking up the sleeping baby.
‘Well, I have one piece of information that might speed up the process,’ said Diana, smiling.
‘And what’s that?’ asked Robin, handing the suddenly screaming infant back to its mother.
‘My brother tells me that the St Helier lifeboat is looking for a new crew member, and as you spent more time at the helm of Lord Trent’s yacht than you did in our cabin, you must be an obvious candidate.’
‘And how will that help me get elected to the Royal Jersey?’ enquired Robin.
‘Guess who’s president of the RNLI?’ said Diana coyly.
The day after Robin failed to make the third round of that year’s President’s Cup, he filled in an application form to join the crew of the lifeboat.
Robin’s interview for a place in the lifeboat turned out to be not so much a meeting as an endurance test. John Poynton, the coxswain, put all the applicants through a series of rigorous trials to make sure only the most resilient would want to return a week later.
Robin couldn’t wait to get home and tell Diana how much he’d enjoyed the whole experience, the camaraderie of the crew, the chance to learn new skills and, most important, the opportunity to do something worthwhile. He only hoped the coxswain would take his application seriously, despite his lack of experience.
When the time came for Mr Poynton to select his new crew member, he unhesitatingly placed a tick by one name, telling his bosun that young Chapman was such a natural he wouldn’t be surprised if the man could walk on water.
As the weeks passed, Robin found himself enjoying being tested by the rigorous drills the crew were put through on the high seas. Whenever the klaxon sounded, the crew were expected to drop everything and report to the boathouse within ten minutes. Robin could never be sure if it would be just another dry run, or if this time they would be going to the aid of someone who was genuinely in distress. The coxswain regularly reminded his crew that all the hours of hard work would prove worthwhile when someone called for their assistance, and only then would they discover which of them could handle the pressure.
It was the middle of the night when the klaxon sounded, waking everyone within a mile of the boathouse. Robin leapt out of bed in the middle of a dream, just as he was taking a putt to win the President’s Cup. He switched on the light and quickly got dressed.
‘Off to see your other girlfriend?’ enquired Diana, turning over.
‘All eight of them,’ Robin replied. ‘But let’s hope I’ll be back in time for breakfast.’
‘You’ll be back,’ said Diana. ‘After all, it’s the final of the President’s Cup on Saturday, and as you’re playing my brother, you may never have a better chance of winning.’
‘I beat him in my dream,’ said Robin as he picked up his bicycle clips.
‘In your dreams,’ said Diana, smiling.
Robin was pedalling frantically through the empty streets when the klaxon sounded a second time. He pedalled even harder.
He was among the first to arrive at the boathouse, and the look on the coxswain’s face left him in no doubt that he was about to experience his first distress call.
‘We’ve had an SOS from a small sailing boat that’s capsized just off the Arden Rock,’ the coxswain told his crew as they pulled on their oilskins and sea boots. ‘It seems a young couple thought it would be fun to sail around the bay after midnight,’ he grunted. ‘I’ll be launching in a couple of minutes.’ None of the crew spoke as they climbed on board and carefully checked their stations.
‘Knock her out!’ the coxswain called to the head launcher once the last crew member had given a thumbs-up.
Robin felt a rush of adrenaline pump through his body as the lifeboat made its way across the lapping waves inside the harbour. Once they had passed the breakwater, the boat reared up and down in the open sea. None of the crew showed any sign of fear, which gave Robin confidence. They had only one thing on their minds as they each carried out their separate duties.
The lookout was the first to spot the capsized yacht. He pointed and bellowed against the high wind, ‘Nor’ nor’west, skipper, about three hundred yards.’
Robin felt exhilarated as they edged slowly towards the capsized vessel. All the drills they had practised during the past months were about to be put to the test. As they came alongside, Robin stared into the eyes of a terrified young couple, who couldn’t believe there were eight people on that little island who were willing to risk their lives to rescue them. But however much the coxswain shouted at them to catch hold of one of the grab lines, they kept clinging to the keel of their sinking yacht. Robin began to feel that nothing would make either of them let go, and, if anything, the boy looked even more terrified than his girlfriend. The waves refused to let up, making Robin wonder how long it would be before the coxswain decided his own crew was in just as much danger as the yacht. They tried one more time to manoeuvre the lifeboat alongside the stricken vessel.
When the boat was at its highest point in the water, Robin wondered if he dare risk it. It was not something to spend much time thinking about. When the bow of the boat plunged into the next wave, he leapt into the sea and with all the strength he could muster managed to grab on to the side of the yacht. He waited for the wave to rise again before he pulled himself up on to what was left of the floating wreck. With the help of the next wave he hauled himself up on to the keel and somehow managed to smile at the two disbelieving faces.
‘Take my hand!’ he hollered to the girl. After a moment’s hesitation, she released her grip on the keel and clung on to Robin’s outstretched arm. For a moment he feared she might panic and push him back into the sea.
‘You’ll have to jump when I give you the signal,’ screamed Robin above the noise of the wind. The girl didn’t look con
vinced. ‘Are you ready?’ he cried as the next wave headed towards them. As the lifeboat reared into the air like a startled horse, Robin shouted, ‘Now!’ and pushed her off the yacht with all the strength left in his body.
Two arms grabbed her as she landed in the water by the side of the lifeboat and hauled her unceremoniously on board. Robin waited for the next wave before the young man obeyed the same instruction. He was not as lucky as his companion, and cracked his head on the gunnel before he was finally dragged on to the boat. Robin could see blood pouring from his forehead. He knew there was a first-aid kit in the cockpit but no one would be able to open it, let alone administer any succour, during such a storm.
Robin felt the yacht sinking beneath him and his thoughts switched from the young man’s problems to his own survival. He would only have one chance before the boat disappeared below the waves.
He hunched up in a ball as he waited for the lifeboat to arch on the peak of the wave, then propelled himself towards it like an athlete bursting out of the blocks. But it turned out to be a false start because he missed the grab line by several feet and found himself floundering in the sea. His last thoughts as he sank below the unforgiving waves were of Diana and his son Harry, but then he bobbed up in a trough and a hand grabbed his hair while another clung to a shoulder and dragged him inch by inch, wave by wave, towards the boat. But the sea still refused to give him up, and when the next wave hurled him against the side of the lifeboat, he felt his arm snap. As he was dragged on to the deck he screamed, but no one heard him above the storm. He would have thanked the coxswain, but all he could manage was to unload a stomach full of seawater all over him. At least Poynton had the grace to laugh.
Robin couldn’t recall much of the journey back to port, except for the excruciating pain in his right arm and the looks of relief on the faces of the young couple he’d rescued.
‘We’ll be back in time for breakfast,’ said the coxswain as they passed the lighthouse and sailed into the relative calm of the harbour. When the crew finally disembarked, they were greeted by a cheering crowd.
The New Collected Short Stories Page 55