Wreckers Island

by L K Harcourt

  She was perfectly poised to give him a flash of her knickers and he was just the sort of sexually frustrated individual who would love it. She had him sussed, from his ring-free ring finger right up to his buck teeth – here was a guy who had never tasted a woman before. And it satisfied a strange predatory instinct in Louise to tantalise someone like that. Furthermore, she had been hurt at Emma’s rebuff yesterday and a little puzzled that John had shown no carnal desires for her either the previous night or that morning. Admittedly she herself had also been too tired, but that wasn’t the point. At least this twerp was showing an interest.

  ‘So, tell me a bit about yourself,’ said Louise. ‘Have you been a finds liaison officer long? How did you get into that sort of work?’

  ‘Ah,’ said Rupert, straightening himself up and taking a noisy slurp of tea as if about to embark on a long story. ‘I have always been fascinated by archaeology and the desire to uncover something special that I’ve never seen before.’

  ‘You don’t say,’ said Louise slowly, narrowing her eyes slightly at him.

  ‘Erm yes, and that’s why from schooldays I would go out in my holidays on archaeological digs and uncover all sorts of things, sometimes broken pottery from the Roman era, and occasionally even pieces of mosaic tiles,’ continued Rupert.

  ‘Sounds fascinating,’ said Louise, stifling a yawn.

  Rupert’s eyes seemed to be straying from gazing steadily at her legs to distant, fantasy lands of endless heritage digs and Roman remains. They almost misted up as he told tales of uncovering long-lost fragments from centuries past.

  Louise decided it was time to bring things back to the present. She jigged her legs a little but without opening them, just to see if they could compete with ancient pottery. Yes, it looked like they could, Rupert’s eyes flickered away from the far wall back to Louise’s shins and thighs disappearing up that skirt.

  A little disconcerted, he carried on: ‘So I found myself dreaming about one day becoming an archaeologist myself. Every night in my bedroom I would read books on the subject and the do’s and don’ts of the profession. There’s a lot of honour involved – for instance, an archaeologist cannot usually be declared the finder of treasure for the purposes of being rewarded its value. We are not treasure hunters but seekers of, I don’t know, a chance to get our hands on that which has for so long been hidden from view – to touch and feel something for the first time,’ enthused Rupert, as his eyes gazed in fascination at Louise’s bare legs, so maddeningly gummed together in typical female fashion.

  Louise decided he had suffered long enough and slowly she parted her thighs, giving him a magical flash of white cotton knicker.

  He stared, transfixed, and seemed to lose his thread altogether, until Louise brought him out of his trance with a jolt. ‘Why are you staring up my skirt Rupert?’ she said to him, coolly but softly.

  He trembled before going violently red and whispering, ‘oh erm, I wasn’t, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, it was most improper and ungentlemanly of me.’

  ‘Is there a hidden treasure up my skirt that you’d like to uncover Rupert? Amid all your learning and reading up on various antiquities, have you ever seen a woman down there? Have you ever touched a woman properly?’

  ‘Erm I erm, I don’t know,’ said Rupert all of a fluster.

  ‘Ok, now’s the time for honesty,’ said Louse. ‘Repeat after me, Louise I’m desperate to get a nice long flash of your knickers.’

  He did so, face turning purple, and Louise opened her legs more widely. ‘There,’ she said. Have a good look.’

  ‘Have you ever touched a woman down there?’

  ‘Yes of course, well erm no, actually. I’ve been on a couple of dates that my parents set up for me, but things never actually progressed.’

  ‘Are you frightened of women, Rupert?’ asked Louise.

  ‘No, erm, well a bit,’ he admitted, before blurting out with brutal candour, ‘I suppose I feel ashamed that women will realise I’m kind of new to this and think I’m a nerd who doesn’t know what to do. I’m sorry I kept looking up your skirt, I didn’t mean any offence.’

  ‘It’s ok, none taken. But surely, getting a flash of women’s knickers is only a turn-on because of what’s inside? What is inside a woman’s knickers Rupert, go on give it’s nice polite Latin name. Let me hear you say the actual word,’ bullied Louise, her vivid green eyes fixing this diffident young man from under her dark brown fringe like a hawk eyeing up its prey.

  But Rupert wouldn’t, to him, that would simply be too rude.

  Louise got up and sat alongside him on the sofa. She took his hand in hers. ‘It’s called a vagina, Rupert. That’s what you’re interested in up my skirt isn’t it?’

  Rupert mumbled an apology but Louise shushed him and took his hand and placed it on her knee. ‘Go on,’ she said to him softly, ‘go and find some hidden treasure.’

  Slowly, he moved his hand up her leg and along her inner thigh until he reached the outer edge of her knickers. Driven by a pent-up desire which conquered his shyness, Rupert’s fingers crossed to the soft fabric which he had been so pleased to get a glimpse of earlier and he pressed downwards. So this is what it felt like! So firm yet soft at the same time with a distinct groove in the middle.

  Despite his fumbling clumsiness, or maybe even because of it, Rupert’s touch was exciting Louise. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘If you’re going to lose your virginity anywhere, it might as well be with a beautiful girl at the top of a lighthouse.’

  Rupert, as if under a spell, followed Louise up the winding steps to the lamp room. He gasped at the stunning sight through the windows as Louise unbuckled his belt and pulled his smart grey work trousers to the floor.

  ‘They’re nice Y-fronts, Rupert,’ she said, mockingly, as she yanked them down next. Rupert gasped again, this time as Louise took his semi-erect penis in her mouth and sucked it. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. He felt ashamed yet proud at the same time.

  Louise broke away, realising he wasn’t far from climaxing. ‘Right you, take your clothes off,’ she commanded. He did as he was told and she stripped as well. Rupert looked in awe at her firm, beautifully-formed breasts, the sensuous curves of her hips and buttocks, and that neat, dark triangle of pubic hair. He had never beheld a nude woman before, not in real life. Some of the Roman frescoes he had seen on long-forgotten ruined walls, brought back to life with the gentle scraping of a trowel on digs, had given him some insight but that was all.

  Louise pulled him down onto the rug, paying no heed as the lighthouse door below opened and closed. She took Rupert’s penis in her hand and guided it inside her, sensing that he had no idea exactly where it should go. Rupert, with his white, pigeon chest and puny limbs, was thrilled to feel the indescribable sensation of finding himself mounting a woman for the first time – and such a beautiful, intelligent one as well.

  And for the first time, he found himself on an exploration of a different kind. He plunged his now fully-erect cock hard into the hidden depths of Louise’s body, and began to thrust rhythmically in and out, instinct guiding him where experience couldn’t. So this was what it was like! He was actually having sex, he finally knew what everyone else was talking about!

  As he came inside her, his bottom bobbing up and down like that of an eager rabbit, Rupert’s goofy mouth swung open, poised to emit a yell of ecstasy, but Louise was ready for that and clamped her hand down firmly to silence him.

  CHAPTER 23

  ‘Whose briefcase is that,’ enquired Dan, as he and John walked into the kitchen, having just returned from the outbuilding.

  ‘It must be the finds liaison officer I’d guess,’ said John. Louise is probably giving him a guided tour or something. Louise, Emma, we’re back!’ he shouted up the spiral staircase. ‘Anyone home?’

  They both scrubbed their hands hard in the sink. ‘I feel like a rock-pool bath after that,’ said John, ‘but I think we better wait for the man from the council to go �
� I don’t think he’d appreciate seeing us jumping around the rocks without our clothes on. Ugh, am I glad that little job is over. I can’t believe that neither Louise nor Emma came looking for us, we’ve been ages. I think we did the right thing though. I just did not want to be going back down that shaft again.’

  ‘No, you’re right,’ said Dan in a low voice, filling the kettle up. ‘Once that find is investigated, the local archaeology people are sure to want to go down it and scout around. It wouldn’t do for them to find a puddle of dried blood in the passageway. Mind you, it won’t just be the heritage boffins either will it? I’ll bet the police will have a good scout around down there too.’

  ‘Probably,’ agreed John. ‘But they’re unlikely to forensically examine every inch of it without good reason. ‘Now we’ve cleaned the area up, there should be no reason for them to suspect the exact location where Zak met his death. We must just keep our fingers crossed that they’ll judge it to be natural causes and some sort of tragic accident. Anyway, we really must find where everyone has got to, I’ll go upstairs and see where they all are.’

  John climbed the staircase, calling as he did so. Louise was not in their room. He looked in on Emma. She had just woken up after doing her best to sleep off her headache. She had no idea where Louise was. John called up to the lamp room: ‘Louise, are you up there?’

  The lamp room door eventually opened and a slightly breathless voice called down, ‘yes I’m coming, give me a moment.’

  ‘We’re making some tea if you’re interested,’ shouted up John, going back down.

  By the time John had made a pot of tea and arranged five mugs on a tray, Louise, the council man and Emma were in the lounge.

  ‘Sorry Dan and I weren’t here to meet you, Mr Spencer,’ said John, handing him his second cuppa. ‘I hope Louise has been looking after you ok.’

  ‘Call me Rupert,’ said Rupert, extending his hand. ‘Yes she’s been the perfect host. She took me up to the lamp room to show me a splendid view. It was a remarkable experience.’

  That earned Rupert a sharp look from Louise who could tell he was fizzing with pride at having finally lost his cherry in such circumstances. She moved her chair within easy ankle-kicking distance.

  ‘Come on then, down to business,’ she said. ‘I will go and get what we found from the safe and array it all on the coffee table for Rupert to take a look at and he can tell us what he thinks.’ With any luck, his deep-seated love of ancient artifacts would reassert itself in his mind.

  So it proved. Not for the first time that morning, the slightly bulging eyes of Rupert Spencer, finds liaison officer and archaeology nerd, seemed poised to fall from their sockets. He put his hand to his gaping mouth in genuine astonishment at what he saw placed before him.

  It truly was the most incredible sight – for all of them, not just Rupert. To look at it displayed in front of them like that brought home just what a find this had been.

  ‘Astonishing,’ said Rupert, his bulbous eyes gleaming. ‘Oh how glad I am that this constitutes treasure trove and not salvage from a wreck.’

  ‘Aah, so you officially agree that I was right then,’ said Dan, grinning at him.

  ‘Oh yes quite so, you see it would constitute wreck had all this simply dropped to the seabed accidentally from the ship as it foundered. But because, as you say Dan, it was salvaged at the time by Captain Felipe and placed in the spot you found it quite specifically by him, to which he hoped one day to return and be reunited with his fortune, then it is most definitely treasure, and very fine treasure at that.’

  ‘You mentioned the gold and silver coins and ingots on the phone but these too are remarkably fine and valuable specimens,’ he said, pointing to the pewter drinking goblets.

  ‘So what happens now?’ asked Dan.

  ‘Well you’ve done absolutely the right thing by reporting this find to me as the finds liaison officer for Cornwall Council. By law you are required to do so within 14 days if you know or suspect that what you have found comes within the legal definition of treasure as defined in the Treasure Act of 1996 or indeed constitutes what used to be called treasure trove,’ droned Rupert, pompously, anxious to atone for slipping up when Dan originally phoned him.

  Rupert puffed himself up a little in his chair and took a noisy slurp of tea. He felt very much in charge now. Here he was, a man of the world, an expert in his field and also – as from today – someone who could charm and seduce the ladies. No longer would he just be an archaeologist bookworm, now he was a proper man who could hold his head high in the world.

  ‘Fine, so the next step is?’ asked Dan a little impatiently. ‘We don’t want this stuff to sit on the coffee table, it needs to be somewhere secure.’

  ‘Yes indeed,’ said Rupert. ‘What I need to do now is to inform Her Majesty’s Coroner for Cornwall who is likely to want to call a formal inquest into this find. This has two key functions, to decide who found it and whether it constitutes treasure. If the lawful owners of these items can be traced then by definition it wouldn’t. But since they are long dead and gone it is highly likely he will declare it to be.

  ‘I will inform the British Museum to ascertain whether they or any other museum wishes to acquire these items from the Crown. If that is the case, and it almost certainly will be, then your find will be bought by the museum from the Crown based on a market valuation carried out by the Treasure Valuation Committee. Provided you are declared the legitimate finders then all or part of that value will be shared between the four of you.’

  The others listened in silence, taking it all in.

  ‘The one big unknown,’ continued Rupert, ‘is this – what effect will the question of ownership of the land where you found this treasure have on your claim? If you have the sales particulars of the lighthouse and island, Louise, I might be able to shed some light on it.’

  Dan went to get them, he had put them safe along with Captain Felipe’s diary.

  ‘You see,’ said Rupert, ‘if you seek out treasure on land you don’t own without the permission of the owner, you might not be entitled to much if any of the subsequent value.’

  The others looked at him in dismay. Was this wisdom talking, or youthful bluster? But within a few seconds they had reason to be grateful to him.

  ‘It shouldn’t be hard to sort out,’ he said, glancing at the plans and architectural drawings. ‘This isn’t quite my field but I know something about it. Aah yes, you see the tunnel is marked on the diagram and was clearly borne in mind when the sale was made.

  ‘Yes, look here, amid all the legal jargon, it was included as part of the sale of the island to your parents Louise, as an easement appurtenant. I don’t blame you for missing that, what it means is that the tunnel and two caves adjacent belongs to your parents but the easement allows the Crown access along it. In other words, there is effectively a public right, or at least, a Royal right of way through that tunnel leading to this island but its ownership rests with your parents.

  ‘This is very good news since while they may be entitled to a 50% share in this find, provided they say that what you took from the cave you did so with their permission, albeit retrospectively, then you will all get quarter shares of that 50%.

  ‘And . . . ,’ Rupert paused for maximum effect, sitting up tall in his chair and colouring slightly, ‘I’m pleased to inform you that you would almost certainly be in line for several tens of thousands of pounds each – even based on a quarter of a half, with the rest going to your mum and dad Louise, so they should be very pleased with you.’

  ‘That’d be a first,’ said Louise, grinning at him. ‘Well, that sounds pretty damn good to me. So as Dan says, where do we go from here?’

  ‘My advice would be that you come back ashore with me now and we’ll take the hoard to the Royal Cornwall Museum – my van is parked near the jetty, it will easily fit in the back – and at least one of you should accompany me to the museum and we’ll hand it over there,’ said Rupert. ‘They will give y
ou a receipt for all the items and keep everything securely pending the decision by the coroner.’

  The others looked at each other in excitement at the news. This sounded very promising. And no-one minded at all that half the value would probably go to Louise’s parents. It was, after all, thanks to them that they were having such a fantastic holiday in the first place, let alone getting the opportunity to find buried treasure!

  ‘Ok folks shall we do as the man from the council says and go over with him and hand over the loot to the curator at the museum? It will make his day I expect,’ said Louise.

  Rupert helped them load the treasure back into boxes and between them they heaved them across the rocks to the Cornwall Council motorboat where the skipper was waiting patiently.

  ‘I say, I’m sorry we were a while,’ said Rupert. ‘I hope you haven’t been too bored.’

  ‘Bored?’ replied the skipper, stroking his grey moustache. ‘I’ve had my newspaper to read and a lovely view to gaze at, I could sit here all day in this boat.’ He helped Rupert and the students lift the boxes on board.

  ‘Right, jump in everybody,’ said Rupert cheerily. ‘You don’t mind a few extra passengers do you, Pete?’

  ‘Certainly not sir, so long as we’re still afloat, I’m happy,’ he replied.

  Dan looked contentedly back at Wreckers Island as the boat began its journey across the bay. He exhaled with relief that the tension and danger of the previous day when bad luck seemed ever poised to strike had been replaced with a sense of calm and order. The unfortunate matter of what to do about Zak had been dealt with promptly and soon the treasure would be safely in the hands of a museum. Then he really would relax.

  He glanced casually across at the newspaper now lying beneath skipper Pete’s steering wheel. It was that morning’s edition of the Cornish Gazette. The front page headline read: ‘Body found off the coast’. Dan read it with only mild curiosity at first, absentmindedly wondering where exactly. And then the reality hit him with a jolt: Zak! His body must already have been found! It must have been discovered within an hour or two of them dumping it – just what they didn’t want to happen.