Harbour

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Harbour Page 2

by Claire Boston


  The hills near the boat ramp appeared on the horizon, but still so far away.

  Then the engine stuttered and stopped.

  Alyse whirled around, eyes wide as Mark pulled the rip cord and nothing happened. He checked the petrol tank, tried again. Still nothing. They were adrift. It was getting darker and in only an hour it would be night. Fear bubbled inside her.

  “Mark, why isn’t it working?” Her voice was shrill.

  “Give me a minute. I’ll fix it.”

  No, he wouldn’t. He liked to think he was good with anything mechanical, but he wasn’t, and she’d long since stopped asking him for help. But it would take him a couple of hours before he’d admit defeat—if he admitted it at all. And she had no intention of still being in this boat after dark.

  She slipped off her seat onto the hull and made herself as small as possible. Mark was busy looking at the engine so she retrieved her phone. She hesitated. He’d hear her if she dialled Marine Rescue. She flicked her phone to silent and texted them instead. Our boat has broken down near the Southpoint boat ramp. About a kilometre from shore.

  The response was instant. Alyse?

  Her heart beat faster. Only one guy at Marine Rescue knew her phone number. Kim On. Yes. He knew about her fear. Please hurry.

  Mobilising now. How many on board?

  Two. Don’t tell Mark I contacted you.

  Be there soon. Hold tight, Aly.

  Her heart squeezed at the nickname she hadn’t heard in three years. Kim had been the one person she could turn to before her life went to shit. Her one confidante before her parents died. But then they’d fought about Mark and she’d pushed him away.

  So stupid.

  She stuck her phone back in her pocket. Hope warmed her. Kim would come, he would save her.

  Mark swore at the engine. He would be furious if he discovered she’d contacted Marine Rescue, especially with the cargo on board.

  The boat rocked, dipping low in the water, and she clenched the sides, her heart in her throat. No life jackets and, although land was in sight, she wasn’t certain she was fit enough to swim to shore. She slid back up to the seat. It was more exposed, but at least there was little chance of getting caught on something and drowning if they capsized.

  A wave splashed over the boat and she shrieked, squeezing her eyes closed, praying they wouldn’t sink.

  “Shut up,” Mark growled. “It’s just a bit of water.”

  She gritted her teeth. He knew it wasn’t the water. He’d met her at the hospital on the day her parents had drowned, when Marine Rescue had finally found her struggling to stay afloat, and she’d told him everything. Those days he’d still pretended to care and was attentive and lovely. He’d soothed her and let her cry.

  She’d avoided even looking at the ocean for ages afterwards. But eventually he’d manipulated her into going fishing with him. She’d climbed into the boat and sat still while he’d cast off, and before they’d been more than ten metres from the boat ramp, she’d broken down in hysterics, begging to go back.

  He’d hit her.

  Slapped her right across the face, telling her to pull herself together. Not even the pain had been enough to cut through her fear and eventually he’d headed back to shore. She’d vowed never to go on a boat again.

  Her hands shaking, she picked up the bucket and bailed out the water sloshing in the bottom of the dinghy. The movement helped distract her, made her feel she was preventing a catastrophe. When she was done, she scoured the shore. Where were Marine Rescue? Shouldn’t she see their bright yellow boat by now? It was growing darker by the minute and they had no lights on board. None that Mark would light at least.

  Her teeth chattered and she shook. “What’s wrong with it?”

  Mark had the engine casing off and had some engine part in his hand. “Filter’s gummed up.”

  Probably because he hadn’t done a second of maintenance on the boat since he’d bought it. Anger stirred in her, but it dissipated as a huge wave crested right behind them.

  They were going to drown.

  Chapter 2

  Impatience swirled through Kim as he waited for his team to arrive. Beyond the inlet the waves were rough and Mark’s dinghy wasn’t all that big. Alyse had to be terrified.

  Mark must have forced her into it. There was no way she’d be out there on a day like this, if she had a choice. His hands clenched around the canopy.

  The sun glowed on the horizon underneath the grey clouds. They had maybe forty minutes before dark, and finding the boat would be much more difficult.

  Where the hell was his team?

  Footsteps thudded on the wooden planks of the jetty as two volunteers ran towards him. He fired up the engine, waiting only long enough for them to climb aboard and untie the ropes before he was off. As he accelerated, Tamara asked, “What have we got?”

  “Boat breakdown. Alyse Wilson is on board.”

  Tamara’s eyes widened. “But she doesn’t go near boats.”

  The thing about a small town like Blackbridge was everyone knew everyone’s business. He nodded. “I’m guessing it was Mark.”

  “Someone has to do something about that prick,” Quentin said.

  Kim said nothing, but he agreed. Alyse had shied away from the community and turned from her friends since her parents died. When Mark moved in, she’d become a recluse, not even playing basketball anymore. Kim had tried to tell her he was there for her, but she’d pushed him away, pushed everyone away.

  It hurt more than he cared to admit.

  The boat banged through the waves, and he concentrated on the ocean and his task. The radar glowed but no hits. Alyse hadn’t given any GPS coordinates, so they would have to search their way in.

  “Where were they?” Tamara came to stand by him.

  “About a kilometre off the Southpoint boat ramp.”

  She scoured the waves. “Why on earth would they go out in this weather? It’s been crappy all day.”

  He shook his head. No use questioning the dumb things Mark Patton did; they’d be there all day. Kim flicked on the floodlights. They might reflect off the boat or show Alyse they were on their way. After they left the inlet, he increased their speed, the bow cutting through the waves as it was designed to do.

  Where were they?

  A blip appeared on the radar. He steered towards it as Tamara and Quentin continued to scan the water. “See anything?”

  “The waves are too big,” Tamara complained.

  It was in the right direction. He pushed the boat as fast as he dared, the dot on the radar coming closer and closer. Finally, the waves dipped and the little silver dinghy appeared. Kim swore. It was so low to the waterline it was almost submerged. What the hell did they have on board?

  Alyse waved her arms. Mark covered the box in front of him with a tarp and shoved Alyse so she stopped waving. Kim growled.

  “Easy, Skipper.” Tamara rested a hand on his arm. “Let’s get her safe first.”

  He slowed the boat, coming up alongside them.

  “Got trouble?” Quentin yelled.

  “No, we’re right. Just about fixed it,” Mark yelled back.

  Was he serious?

  Alyse shook her head frantically, eyes begging for help.

  “Get Alyse on board,” Kim murmured to Tamara.

  “Alyse, you look about frozen,” Tamara called. “Why don’t you come over here? We have blankets.”

  “I said we’re fine,” Mark called.

  Kim manoeuvred the boat next to the dinghy and Quentin held the two boats together while Tamara held out her hand. “Come on.”

  “Stay here, Alyse,” Mark ordered.

  Alyse ignored him. She shook as she stood and stretched out her hand. The boats rocked hard and she almost fell into the water, her squeal of terror cutting through Kim.

  Hurry. He wanted her on his boat, safe.

  “You can do it,” Tamara called.

  Alyse lunged for the Marine Rescue boat and Tamara an
d Quentin both pulled her on board. Alyse collapsed to the floor, sobbing and shaking, her face pale and her body so much thinner than it used to be. Even her once vibrant red hair seemed duller.

  Kim ached to hold and comfort her. “Tamara, take the wheel.”

  Tamara took over and Kim hurried to Alyse’s side. “Throw Mark a tow rope,” he said to Quentin. He couldn’t leave Mark there and hope his boat sank. Quentin nodded.

  Kim turned to Alyse. “Hey, Aly. Let’s get you down in the cabin where it’s warmer.” He slid his arm around her waist, shocked at how cold she was. He’d have to watch her for hypothermia. “Come on.” He hauled her to her feet, keeping a firm arm around her as she leaned against him shaking. He shuffled them into the cabin. Behind him, his crew did what was necessary to rescue Mark.

  Kim towel-dried Alyse’s thick red hair and then took off her shoes and socks and warmed her feet. She sat there, hugging herself, sobbing. Kim really wanted to hit something, but he kept his voice gentle. “Aly, you need to get out of those wet clothes. Do you want me to get Tamara for you?”

  She clutched his arm, shook her head. “Don’t leave,” she whispered.

  “I won’t,” he promised. “Can you unbutton your jeans for me? I can help you out of them so we can warm you up.”

  She nodded, her hands shaking as she undid her pants and let him pull them down. He ignored her beautiful white skin and the black cotton knickers she wore and focused on warming and drying her. He wrapped a blanket around her legs. “How are you feeling now?”

  She still trembled. “I want to get off the boat.”

  “I know.” He stripped off his thick, waterproof jacket. “Put this on.” She took off her wet top and he took her clothes out of the cabin to squeeze out the water. Discovering her phone, he dried it and when he returned, he gave it back before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “How’d he get you on a boat in the first place?”

  “Needed my help—” She cut herself off and shook her head.

  It didn’t matter. It was one more reason to dislike Mark and he had plenty already. He rubbed her arm, trying to soothe her and inhaled deeply. She smelled sweet like honey, the way she always had. This was the first time he’d had her alone in years, but memories of their teenaged years at the markets flooded him—Alyse laughing at one of his lame jokes or telling him stories about her bees.

  “Aly, remember old Mrs Kendrick?” he asked.

  She hiccoughed, or maybe it was a laugh. “That old witch.”

  He mimicked the old woman. “You two should be working, not gossiping like geese.” He smiled. “Remember how we’d take turns saying ridiculous things she could overhear?” Alyse had always come up with the most outlandish.

  She grimaced, brushed the tears away and exhaled. “I hated going to the markets until you started to go.”

  The confession warmed his heart. “We had fun.” He’d only accompanied his father after he’d discovered she would be there with her parents, selling honey. She’d gone to the agricultural college in Year Ten so he rarely saw her except at the markets. “I miss hanging out with you.”

  She stiffened slightly. “I thought you hated me.”

  “Never.” Guilt hit him. He’d been an idiot back when she’d first dated Mark. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “That there was only one thing Mark wanted from me?”

  “I didn’t mean it. It hurt that you stopped coming to the markets.”

  She placed a cold hand on his arm. “Mark overwhelmed me, taking all my time...”

  Did she regret it? “Maybe we could catch up next week, go shoot some hoops.”

  Her smile was forced. “I’m pretty busy.”

  Frustration filled him. “That’s bullshit. You always said the bees were quiet in winter. Aly, if he’s abusing you, we can go to the police.”

  She shook her head violently. “No, you can’t.” She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something else and then closed it.

  “I hate seeing you like this.” She’d once been so vibrant, so full of life. He barely recognised this shell of a person. “Please let me help.”

  “There’s nothing you can do,” she repeated, her voice firm. The boat jolted as it went over a wave and she gasped, the colour leaving her face. “How much further?”

  He glanced out the window, estimated how far they’d come. They couldn’t go as fast while towing Mark. They should have left him behind and returned for him after Alyse was on dry land. “We’re about halfway,” he said. “Not far now.”

  She shuddered, huddled in on herself.

  Kim had to keep her distracted. “How are the bees?”

  “Fine.”

  “I hear you do candles and lotions now.”

  She nodded. “The lotions are still being tested, but they’re nice.”

  “That’s great. Must keep you busy when the bees aren’t as active.”

  “Keeps me out of the house.”

  His heart fell. Alyse loved her house, or at least she had when they’d been teenagers. It was one of those old brick farmhouses, built at the turn of the twentieth century with high ceilings and large rooms. “How’s Flossie?”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “My imaginary ghost? She doesn’t come around anymore.”

  “Flossie wasn’t imaginary. You said she used to live in your house.”

  “She did, but she was never a ghost.” Alyse smiled. “I just loved thinking about those who lived in the house before me, imagining all the secrets the walls contained.”

  He’d bet they could tell some secrets about Alyse’s life since her parents had died.

  “How’s the restaurant?” Alyse asked.

  Good. She was trying. “Really great. The home delivery service has been popular.” Especially during winter. People didn’t want to leave their house to pick up their Vietnamese food.

  “Whose idea was that?”

  “I got it from Mai,” he said. “After her bakery burned down, she needed to continue earning money, so she baked from my parents’ house and delivered it around town. It was so popular, I hired Trent to do deliveries for us.”

  “Does your dad still make a mean pho?” she asked.

  “Absolutely. Want me to send some out to you when you get home?”

  She smiled. “Yeah. That would be great.”

  “Done.” She’d always been partial to the chicken pho and he’d throw in some dumplings as well. Maybe he’d even deliver it himself, make sure Mark hadn’t hurt her.

  She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. That was where she belonged. His heart squeezed. He’d hoped one day she’d see him as more than the Asian kid who hung out at the Sunday markets with his father.

  He’d longed for Sundays.

  And while he had still been building the nerve to ask her to the Year Twelve ball, someone else had asked her. And then high school ended and Mark came along. He’d disliked Mark from the start. He’d been all Alyse could talk about on their Sundays together and then she’d stopped coming, her parents telling him she was with Mark.

  The boat engine slowed, the noise diminishing, and Kim peered through the window. They were almost at the boat ramp.

  Alyse looked up, hope in her eyes.

  He nodded. “Almost there.”

  She leapt to her feet and he stopped her. “Wait until we stop. I don’t want you to fall.”

  She squeezed his hand, hers freezing cold, and sat.

  “Are you sure we can’t take you into town? You should go to the hospital, make sure you don’t have hypothermia.”

  She shook her head before he’d even finished his first sentence. “I have to get off.”

  He understood her fear. “I can pick you up after we get back. Take you to the emergency department to be checked over.”

  “I’m fine.” She reached for her wet jeans and pulled them on. “I’ll have a hot shower.”

  There was a gentle bump as the boat pulled onto the sand next to
the boat ramp. Quentin called instructions to Mark and Tamara lifted the engine so it didn’t hit the ground. Kim took Alyse’s hand. “Let’s get you on dry land.”

  She nodded.

  She followed him out and before he could offer her a hand, she’d vaulted over the side into the shallow water. She turned back, smiled at him and he saw a glimpse of the Aly he remembered. “Thank you.”

  Mark bellowed at her to grab the line and she scurried to obey him. He got out, waving away Quentin’s help and strode up the boat ramp to fetch his car. Quentin said something to Alyse and she shook her head. He sighed and returned to the Marine Rescue boat. “We’re good to go. They don’t need our help anymore.” He pushed the boat off the sand and climbed aboard.

  Tamara glanced at Kim for instructions. Alyse refused to look at him as she held the dinghy, fighting with the push of the waves, her shoulders hunched as if wanting to disappear. He gritted his teeth, then nodded. “Let’s go.”

  He had no reason to stay. Not if Alyse didn’t want him there, not with the rest of his crew wanting to get out of the cold.

  But as soon as they had packed up, he would personally deliver the soup to Alyse.

  Now they’d reconnected, he wasn’t letting Mark push him away again.

  Chapter 3

  Mark said nothing to Alyse as they loaded the boat onto the trailer and drove home. She’d been expecting an explosion, abuse and recriminations, but his silence was unexpected. And it chilled her more than the ocean.

  She hugged Kim’s jacket around her, inhaling the comfort of his scent, and then froze. If Mark realised she was still wearing Kim’s jacket, he’d be furious. She’d been in too much of a hurry to get off the boat to think about giving it back. She turned the heating to full so it blasted her feet and face, warming some of the chill from her bare toes. Her jeans were damp, wetting the car seat.

  The headlights illuminated her farmhouse up ahead, but the view no longer brought the sense of safety it once had when her parents had been alive. Instead it felt more like a prison. She longed to lock herself inside and keep Mark out, but it wouldn’t work. The one time she’d tried, he’d threatened to burn the whole building down. She had little left of her parents as it was. She wasn’t losing this as well.

 

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