A Perfect Cornish Escape

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A Perfect Cornish Escape Page 11

by Phillipa Ashley


  He ushered her into the control room, which was, briefly, empty. It had huge picture windows looking out over the open sea. Waves broke on the slipway and spray spattered the glass.

  ‘So, will you now tell me why I’m here?’ she demanded.

  ‘This is a training day,’ he said.

  ‘Okayyy … so you want me to make the tea or something?’ she said, smiling. ‘Help out in the lifeboat shop? I’m not above cleaning kitchens and loos either. In fact, I must admit I’m rather relieved. You could have told me you wanted me to volunteer down here anyway – you didn’t need to pay three hundred pounds for the privilege! I’ve got quite a taste for it actually, after helping out Marina and the Wave Watchers.’

  ‘Yes, erm, we do need help in the shop …’ he muttered.

  The coxswain popped her head around the door. Tiff recognised her from the fundraiser but still couldn’t believe she was old enough to be in charge of the huge lifeboat. She was a tiny woman, no more than thirty, with a snub nose and freckles, a bit like one of the orphans from Annie. ‘Are you guys ready to move? Tiff, we need to get you kitted up.’

  Dirk hesitated. ‘Rachel, we’ve had a change of plan. It’s looking lively out there so I’m not sure this is a great idea.’

  ‘Oh.’ Rachel looked confused then smiled. ‘No problem, though conditions are pretty good, I thought. The wind’s not too bad but if not … one of the crew can do it. We’ll find you something else to do, Tiff.’

  She started to walk out but Tiff called after her. ‘Wait a minute! What’s this about finding someone else to do “it”. What is “it”?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter now,’ Dirk grunted.

  ‘It does to me. What is this thing I was obviously hauled down here to do, and why can’t I still do it?’

  ‘I thought you’d changed your mind?’ Rachel said.

  ‘How can I when I don’t even know what I was supposed to do?’ She glared at Dirk before smiling sweetly at Rachel. ‘Would someone mind putting me out of my misery?’

  ‘Oh,’ said Rachel, exchanging a puzzled glance with Dirk who’d subsided into stony silence. ‘Well … originally I was under the impression that you might like to take part in the drill.’

  ‘Me? I can’t sail. I’ve never been on a boat, unless I had a large G&T in my hand. I’d be a liability.’

  ‘That’s exactly what we want!’ Rachel declared.

  ‘Dirk?’ Tiff lasered him with her eyes.

  ‘I put you forward to be a casualty in a drill,’ he said gruffly. ‘But seeing the sea conditions, and not having warned you in advance, I didn’t think it was fair.’

  ‘Fair?’ A wave slapped against the slipway, throwing spray against the window. Tiff shuddered.

  ‘It’s a bad idea,’ Dirk muttered. ‘There’s plenty for you to do here, if you want to stay.’

  So, he’d assumed she’d chicken out. ‘You mean you don’t think I’m up to it?’ she replied.

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  Rachel’s face fell, and she sidled to the door, obviously unwilling to be part of their domestic. ‘Um. Could you please decide in the next two minutes so we can get ready?’ she said.

  ‘No need to decide. I’m up for it!’ Tiff declared.

  ‘Wait. You haven’t been briefed yet. You don’t know what it involves,’ Dirk cut in.

  ‘Are you fit and healthy?’ Rachel asked. ‘You’ll have to fill in some forms.’

  ‘Fit as a fiddle,’ Tiff declared, regretting her comment about the gin. ‘And it would make a great feature for the mag, if it’s OK to write about it?’ She dared Dirk to object.

  ‘That would be brilliant. We need all the publicity we can get,’ Rachel said, beaming. ‘Thanks! Now, I’ll leave Dirk to brief you and get you to quickly fill in the insurance and safety forms. Then come into the equipment room and we can get you into your survival suit.’

  Half an hour later, Tiff held onto her seat inside the cabin for dear life. The doors at the bottom of the slipway were now open to reveal the sea churning, grey and endless. Despite the swell, the coxswain and other crew seemed as chilled as if they were off for a Sunday afternoon picnic. Tiff’s knuckles whitened on the edge of the seat and her stomach was a tangled knot. Any moment now, any moment now … she felt a hand on her shoulder and the briefest squeeze.

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ the voice murmured close to her ear.

  She had just enough time to realise it was Dirk at her side before the lifeboat plunged down the slipway on its nightmarish rollercoaster ride towards the ocean.

  ‘Fu—!’

  With a huge boom, the bow hit the waves, spray rising sky high over the boat. For a few horrific moments, Tiff thought they were going to carry on right to the bottom of the harbour. Then suddenly the bow pointed heavenwards … then crashed down again into the surf.

  She might have screamed but the noise drowned out her cries.

  The lifeboat seemed to steady – though that was a relative term – as it passed the harbour wall and the engine note grew even louder. They were off, hurtling for the horizon, throwing up spray as the vessel cut through the waves. She couldn’t believe a boat could go that fast, tearing through the water, up and down, up and down, rearing high when it met a breaker before slapping down on the water.

  Tiff sat rigid, gripping the seat, while Rachel, Dirk and a couple of other crew stood in the wheelhouse shouting and laughing.

  ‘Cuppa?’ Dirk shouted, miming a drinking sign in case Tiff couldn’t hear.

  She didn’t trust herself to open her mouth in case more than words came out, so she just shook her head.

  Tiff had ceased to believe in God a long time ago, but she started to pray. And she hadn’t even been thrown overboard yet.

  Chapter Twelve

  Since Lachlan’s unexpected invitation, Marina had been humming with a mix of excitement, nerves and curiosity about their Sunday lunch.

  Tiff had raised her eyebrows and teased her about the ‘date’ – as expected – and Marina had insisted it wasn’t a date … but on Sunday morning as she shaved her legs and put on lip gloss even she had to admit it kind of was.

  She’d been due to go to the cottage ‘around one-thirty-ish’ after doing the first shift at the lookout station with Gareth. She strolled along the coast path, enjoying the late spring sunshine and the bluebells bursting out in the little copse she passed on her route.

  She’d barely taken her mug of coffee into the control room when her mobile rang. At first, she thought it was Tiff calling to be rescued from whatever Dirk had planned for her, but saw it was actually Gareth’s name flashing up on the screen.

  He was very sorry but he couldn’t join her because his family’s elderly cat was ill. His mum was taking it to the emergency vet and she’d begged Gareth to go along with her for support. Marina wished him all the best and settled down for her watch, knowing she’d be very busy.

  It was a cool but breezy day, and many weekend sailors had taken the opportunity to sail their yachts from Porthmellow Harbour around the coast. She spotted numerous craft – fishing trawlers, motor dinghies, dive boats and a wildlife cruiser – bobbing on the waves by the lighthouse. Through the large binoculars she saw what they were looking at: a pod of dolphins playing around in the surf.

  At one point, she saw the all-weather lifeboat powering towards Mount’s Bay, but she’d been made aware it was on a training day so wasn’t concerned. She realised that Dirk would probably be on board and concluded that Tiff must have been let off her ‘forfeit’ and was either back home or had decamped to the Harbour Coffee Shop for an espresso.

  Marina smiled to herself. Tiff was finding some consolations in Cornwall after all … With that pleasant thought, she made it halfway through her two-hour watch and was looking forward to her lunch. The sight of so many people out enjoying the spring sunshine and new life bursting out around the station gave her a fresh optimism and buoyancy. On a day like this, anything seemed possible.

  She onl
y had forty minutes to go when a call came in from Doreen and Trevor, two of her volunteers.

  Twenty minutes later, Marina dialled Lachlan’s number with a heavy heart.

  ‘I am so sorry, Lachlan, but I’m going to have to miss our lunch. Both of the volunteers have got sick. They’re married and they ate some dodgy prawn cocktail at an anniversary party last night, and I haven’t been able to get anyone else at short notice. I daren’t leave the station empty on such a sunny Sunday. There are too many people and boats about.’

  Having made a quick drink and grabbed the rest of the ginger nuts for consolation, Marina resumed her watch, trying to concentrate on the reason she was at the station. However strong the temptation to go to lunch with Lachlan, this might be the day when someone needed their help.

  With so much marine traffic and people wandering along the paths criss-crossing the headland, and others swimming in the cove, she had her work cut out and couldn’t feel sorry for herself for long. She even had to turn away a couple of visitors because she couldn’t handle showing them around while staying alert. But busy as she was, it was hard not to occasionally think of the roast dinner she was missing, and, most of all, the chance to get to know Lachlan better.

  ‘Hello! Did someone order a takeout?’

  Marina turned round. ‘Lachlan! I didn’t see you.’

  He held up a bag. ‘I thought you might be in need of some food.’

  As he opened up foil parcels, her sense of smell went into overdrive. The packets contained roast chicken and stuffing tucked into floury baps.

  ‘Oh my, they smell wonderful. You didn’t have to do that.’

  ‘I couldn’t leave you here while I ate.’

  ‘You waited?’

  ‘Of course I did …’ He handed her a serviette and a chicken bap. ‘There aren’t any rules about food in here, are there?’

  She smacked her lips. ‘Even if there were, I’d be breaking them.’

  He pulled a couple of Diet Coke cans from the bag and popped the top. ‘I was sure there were rules about beer though, so this is the best I could do.’

  She laughed and took a sip of the chilled drink. ‘It’s better than a fine wine and these rolls are a match for anything Gabe Mathias could rustle up.’

  Lachlan laughed. ‘In my dreams! But I’m glad you don’t mind me bringing Sunday lunch to you as you couldn’t get to it. How about I keep you company until relief comes?’

  ‘We could be here together until eight o’clock,’ she warned.

  He smiled. ‘What a hardship that would be.’

  Unsure how to respond, Marina tucked into the roast chicken and stuffing rolls with gusto. ‘Well, this is delicious,’ she said quickly, to fill the silence. ‘Whereabouts are you from in Scotland?’ she asked, while Lachlan demolished a second roll. ‘I think a few of the villagers were hoping you’d turn up in a kilt.’

  ‘Kilts?’ he pulled a face. ‘Nope. Just nope. If you see a Scot in a kilt during the day they’re either on their way to a wedding, on their unsteady way home from a really good wedding, employed in the tourist industry, or an American.’

  Marina dissolved into laughter.

  ‘I will admit to falling into other Scottish clichés though. I don’t drink much unless it’s whisky and when a Scot takes their whisky seriously, they take it seriously. This one does, anyway. In fact, that’s the one thing that I will never ever take with water or anything. No island malt should ever be polluted.’

  ‘That’s fine. I don’t have any island malts or any malt at all.’

  Lachlan smiled. ‘Coffee would be fine.’

  ‘It’s Tesco basics at the station but we have some decent stuff at home, courtesy of Tiff. If you ever happen to drop by,’ she added hastily.

  He replied with a smile but there was no time to continue the conversation because she needed to note the three divers who had slipped off the RIB and vanished beneath the water. They must be exploring an old wreck that had foundered on the reef a century before. Two kite surfers had also arrived on the beach to the east of the cove, where a strip of silver sand had been uncovered by the falling tide. They unloaded their gear. Everyone was out today.

  She tried to keep an eye on the job, and find out more about Lachlan’s role in Aaron’s business. Initially they were providing security services for events across the West Country and a few individual clients. Aaron had recently opened an office in Porthmellow and offered Lachlan the opportunity to be his business partner.

  ‘How did you two meet? I thought Aaron was in the army engineering corps and you were in the RAF military police?’

  ‘We were both in a forces mountaineering club. He came up to Fort William for a course and we met on that, did a few more expeditions and became good mates. When he left the army last year, he mentioned he was setting up the business. He didn’t know how it would go then, and it wasn’t the right time for me.’

  ‘But now is?’

  ‘Being honest, I still don’t know. At one time, after the accident, I was in such a dark place that I couldn’t even have decided what to have for dinner – that’s if I could be bothered to eat at all. I suppose Aaron caught me at the moment when I’d begun to turn a corner.’

  Marina realised that she’d turned her corner a long time ago and had been moving forwards ever since. ‘I do get the dinner thing. There was a time when I couldn’t see the point in cooking a meal, or eating, or breathing – but I couldn’t imagine the alternative either. For months after Nate disappeared, I was trapped between living and not living. I’m not saying I wanted to … do anything drastic – I didn’t have the energy – but I couldn’t see a reason for almost anything.’

  ‘How did you get through it?’

  ‘God knows. In the beginning, I’d wake up thinking I couldn’t spend another minute feeling as bad as I felt, but somehow, the hours and days passed by. My parents and friends were worried about me, so I tried to pretend I was OK for them and eventually I guess I started to believe I was OK myself. Work helped – my students, my colleagues – and after a while, I found a reason to live rather than just exist: the Wave Watchers.’

  ‘That’s a very good reason,’ he said. ‘Aaron told me you’ve saved at least a dozen lives over the years.’

  Marina glanced away in embarrassment. ‘Not us personally, but by alerting the coastguard and lifeboats, we like to think we played our part. You know how it is, if you were in the mountain rescue … everyone is part of a team. That’s what matters.’

  ‘Aye, we all depend on each other to do our jobs …’ His tone took a sombre turn. ‘You deserve to know what happened to me in Scotland.’

  Marina hid her surprise. ‘You don’t owe me anything, but I’m here for you if you need to talk,’ she said gently.

  ‘Now’s as good a time, although I’ll not want to distract you.’

  She smiled. ‘I can watch as well as listen. What happened?’

  ‘OK …’ He took a breath. ‘A couple of years ago, I was involved in a helicopter crash … it’s why I don’t do communities any more, or search and rescue work.’ He smiled bitterly. ‘Or people in general. Present company excepted of course.’

  ‘You moved here. You do security work. That’s in direct contact with the community.’

  ‘Ach, but I stick to the intel in the back room if I can help it. My domain is the admin, IT and planning. Aaron goes out to see the clients and we employ professional personnel to be on the ground. You could call me the office geek. That’s what I did in the military police – I was in management after the initial training. I was surprised how much I enjoyed the fundraiser actually, especially your stall.’

  ‘I’m glad you made it.’

  He paused and smiled. ‘I didn’t make it to the end, to the auction. I heard I missed a treat.’

  ‘Tiff might not think of it as a treat,’ Marina said, relieved to see his sense of humour was intact. ‘But keeping away from everyone, or getting involved with a community again must be difficult
, especially when it goes against your nature.’

  He nodded, staring out to sea.

  Marina tried to give him her attention, while noting that the divers had returned to their boat. She was conscious of doing her job while not discouraging Lachlan, now he’d started.

  ‘Getting involved isn’t all it’s cracked up to be …’ He paused and then raised the smaller binoculars he had around his neck. ‘Marina, I could be wrong, but isn’t that kite surfer a hell of a way out?’

  She pulled the large scope to her eyes and focused. ‘Yes, I’ve got her. I think it might be the woman we saw on the beach with a purple kite. She is a long way out … and she’s in the water. It’s pretty rough out.’

  She watched for a while longer. The kite surfer was trying and failing to haul the sodden kite out of the water so she could get some lift and surf back to shore.

  ‘I had a go at kite surfing once with Aaron in Scotland,’ Lachlan said, still with the binoculars to his eyes. ‘It was bloody hard work once the kite was wet. We struggled to get going again.’

  ‘Yes. It’s easy for people to get very cold and tired, so they can’t self-rescue. How long do you think she’s been in the water? I’m concerned that she’s been struggling for longer than we realise,’ she said, glancing at the clock and cursing herself for not focusing on the task in hand.

  ‘It’s been over ten minutes since I first noticed so it could have been fifteen or twenty or even more. Plus, weren’t there two kite surfers out on the water earlier? Where’s the guy who was with her? I can’t see him.’

  ‘Nor me,’ she said, adrenaline kicking in. ‘I’m calling this in.’

  While Lachlan kept an eye on the stricken kite surfer, she called the coastguard and resumed her visual search for the woman’s companion.

  ‘Look. There, at the far end of the west beach on the rocks. He’s dragging his kit out of the sea now. The kite looks trashed.’

 

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