Safe Harbour

by Danielle Steel

  “You ain't seen nothing yet. I intend to stay on your back.”

  “That,” Ophélie said with a very Gallic raised eyebrow, “I believe.” And with that, the baby woke up with a scream.

  And while they were chatting on the deck, far down the beach, Matt was making careful sketches of Pip, and he took two rolls of black-and-white film. He was excited about doing the portrait, and had promised her it would be ready in time for her mother's birthday, and probably long before.

  “I'm going to miss you when we leave,” Pip said sadly after he'd taken the photographs of her. She loved coming down to sit with him, and talk and draw for hours. He had become her best friend.

  “I'm going to miss you too.” He was being honest with her. “I'll come into the city to visit you and your mom. But you're going to be busy with your friends once you go back to school.” Her life would be far fuller than his, he knew. And it startled him to realize how much he had come to depend on seeing her nearly every day. She had kept him company for most of the summer.

  “That's not the same thing,” Pip chided him. Their friendship was special, and she relied on him too. He had become her confidant and best friend, and in some ways, a substitute for her father. He was the father Ted had never been. In many ways, Pip felt he was nicer to her than her father had been. Her father had never spent as much time with her as Matt did, nor been as kind to her. Or her mother. He had always had an edge to him, and got angry easily, especially at her mom or Chad, not as much with her. Because Pip had always been careful with him. He scared her a little. Although he'd been nicer to her when she was very young, she had pleasant memories of that, and less so in recent years. “I'm going to miss you a lot,” she said, near tears as she thought about it. She was going to hate leaving him at the beach. And Matt hated to see her go.

  “I promise I'll come in whenever you want. We can go to the movies, or lunch, whatever you like, as long as it's all right with your mom.”

  “She likes you too,” Pip said comfortably, not divulging any secrets. Her mother had said so openly, and agreed that he was a very nice man.

  For a crazy instant, he was tempted to ask her what her father had really been like. In spite of everything Ophélie had said, he couldn't get a clear picture of Ted. The only portrait of him he could paint in his mind's eye was of a difficult, probably selfish tyrant, who may have been a genius, but more than likely wasn't very nice to his wife. Yet Ophélie had clearly worshiped him and made him sound like a saint now. But pieces of the puzzle didn't seem to fit. Particularly in his relationship with his son. And Matt didn't have the feeling he'd spent much time with Pip, she had almost said as much, in incidents she talked about, and stories she told. And it didn't sound as though he'd spent much time with his wife either. It was hard to get a clear picture. Particularly now that he was dead, and the normal tendency was to forget the unpleasant parts, and improve the rest. But he didn't want to put Pip on the spot.

  “When do you go back to school?” he said finally.

  “In two weeks. The day after we go back.”

  “You'll be busy then,” he said reassuringly, but she looked sad anyway.

  “Can I call you sometimes?” Pip asked, and he smiled.

  “I'd like that very much.” She had been a gift to him, and she soothed a place in him that had been raw for a long time. She did something magical to fill the gaping hole in him his own kids had left. And he did the same for her. He was, in some ways, the father she had never had, and wished she did. Ted was an entirely different beast.

  She left him after he packed up his things, and she walked back up the beach. Andrea was just leaving when she got home.

  “How was Matt?” her mother asked pleasantly, as Pip kissed Andrea and the baby good-bye.

  “Fine. He said to say hello to you.”

  “Remember what I said,” Andrea reminded her, and Ophélie laughed.

  “I told you. Mr. Feigenbaum is the answer.”

  “Don't count on it. Guys like that marry their wives' sisters or best friends within six months. You'll still be trying to decide what to do long after he's remarried. It's a shame he's so old.”

  “You're disgusting,” Ophélie said as she hugged her friend and kissed the baby, and then they left.

  “Who's Mr. Feigenbaum?” Pip asked, curious. She'd never heard his name before.

  “A man in my group. He's eighty-three years old and he's looking for a new wife.”

  Pip's eyes opened wide. “Does he want to marry you?”

  “No, he doesn't. And I don't want to marry him either. So everything's fine.” Pip had a sudden urge to ask her if she would ever marry Matt. She wished she would one day, but after what her mother had said recently, she knew there wasn't much chance of it. Probably none at all. But at least he had said he would visit them in town, and she really hoped he would.

  Pip and her mother had a quiet dinner that night, and Pip mentioned to her that Matt had said he might call sometimes.

  “He wanted to know if it was all right with you.”

  “I don't see why not,” Ophélie said quietly. He seemed trustworthy and had proven himself as a friend. She had no qualms about it now, even though Andrea still referred to him as “the child molester,” but she had no concerns about that. “I think that would be nice. Maybe he'd like to have dinner with us sometime.”

  “He said he'd take us out to dinner and a movie when he comes to the city.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Ophélie said, not thinking about it much as she put the dishes in the dishwasher and Pip turned on the TV. Friendship with Matt wasn't what Andrea wanted for her, but it suited Ophélie. Their summer in Safe Harbour had been a success, and she and Pip had made a new friend.

  10

  IT WAS THE BEGINNING OF THEIR LAST WEEK WHEN Matt called Ophélie about sailing with him, on a brilliantly sunny day. They had just had two days of fog, and everyone was relieved to see a last burst of summer. As it turned out, it was the hottest day of the year. So much so that Pip and Ophélie had both gotten too hot, and had decided to go inside for lunch. They were just finishing the sandwiches Ophélie had made when Matt called. And Pip looked half asleep in the heat. She had been thinking about walking down to see Matt, but it was almost too hot to go, and the sun was blazing overhead. It was going to be the first day in a long time that she'd missed with him. But she didn't think he'd be outside painting either. It was a good day to swim, or sail, as Matt said himself when he called Ophélie.

  “I've been meaning to ask you for weeks,” Matt said apologetically. He couldn't explain to her that he'd been too busy sketching Pip for her portrait. “It's so hot, I thought I'd take the boat out this afternoon. Can I interest you in a sail?” It sounded like a great idea to her too. It was too hot to sit on the deck, or the beach, and at least on the ocean, there would be a breeze. The wind had started to come up in the last hour, which was what had given him the idea. He'd been in the house all day, drawing Pip, from memory, photographs, and sketches he'd made of her on the beach.

  “That sounds great,” Ophélie said enthusiastically. She still hadn't seen his boat, although she knew he was immensely fond of it, and had promised to take her sailing before she left. “Where do you keep her?”

  “I have her moored at a private dock at a house on the lagoon side, just down from you. The owners are never there, and they don't mind the boat. They say it adds charm to the place when they're here. They moved to Washington last year. It worked out well for me.” He gave her the house number, and told her he'd meet her there in ten minutes. She told Pip what she was doing, and was surprised when Pip looked upset.

  “Will you be okay, Mom?” Pip asked worriedly. “Is it safe? How big is the boat?” Listening to her, and seeing the look in her eyes, Ophélie was touched. It was exactly how she felt about her. Everything seemed more ominous now, which was why she'd been so upset earlier in the summer, when Pip disappeared down the beach. All they had now was each other. And danger wa
s no longer an abstract concept to them. It was real. And tragedy a possibility they both knew existed. It had changed life forever for both of them. “I don't want you to go,” Pip said in a frightened voice, as Ophélie tried to decide what to do. They couldn't live in fear forever either. Maybe it was a good idea to show her that they could lead normal lives, and nothing terrible would happen. She felt no danger whatsoever about going out on the boat with Matt. And she was certain he was a supremely competent sailor. They had talked a lot about sailing. And he'd done a lot of it since he was a boy. Far more so than she. She hadn't been sailing herself in at least a dozen years. But she had some experience too, in far more treacherous waters than these.

  “Sweetheart, I really think it will be fine. You can watch us from the deck.” Pip did not look reassured, but more like she was going to cry. “Do you really not want me to go?” It was an element she hadn't even considered when she told him she would. And she was going to ask Amy to come over. She had just seen her go into her house, so she knew she was home. Or Pip could even go there for a few hours, if Amy had things to do.

  “What if you drown?” Pip asked in a strangled voice, and Ophélie sat down and pulled her gently onto her lap.

  “I'm not going to drown. I'm a good swimmer. And so is Matt. I'll ask him for a life vest if you want.” Pip considered it for a moment and then nodded, reassured.

  “Okay.” She looked slightly mollified and then visibly panicked again. “What if a shark attacks the boat?” Ophélie couldn't deny that there were shark sightings in those waters now and then, but there hadn't been one all summer.

  “You've been watching too much TV. I promise. Nothing is going to happen. You can watch us. I just want to go out with him for a little while. Do you want to come with us?” Ophélie hadn't really wanted her to go, for some of the same reasons, which seemed foolish now. And Pip wasn't all that crazy about the water. She didn't want to scare her. Sailboats were her thing and not her daughter's. Pip shook her head the moment her mother asked her. “I'll tell you what. I'll tell Matt I want to be back in an hour. It's a beautiful day, and we'll be back before you know it. How does that sound?”

  “Okay, I guess.” She looked forlorn as she said it, and Ophélie felt guilty. But she really wanted to sail with him, and see his boat, even if only for a few minutes. She was torn now, but it was beginning to seem important to prove to Pip that she could go and come back, and nothing untoward would happen. It was going to be part of the healing process for her.

  She went to put shorts over a bathing suit, and called Amy to come and sit with Pip. The teenager had promised to be over in a few minutes, and by the time Ophélie was ready to leave, she was there. But before her mother left, Pip threw her arms around her and held her tight. It brought home to Ophélie just how hard hit Pip had been by her father and brother's deaths. She had never behaved this way before. But Ophélie hadn't gone anywhere either. She had spent most of the last ten months lying on her bed in tears.

  “I'll be back soon, I promise. If it's not too hot, you can watch us from the deck. Okay?” She kissed Pip, and walked out the door in as swift and clean an exit as she could manage, while Mousse stood by and wagged his tail. But Ophélie was pensive as she walked down the road to the house where Matt kept his boat. His car was already there. And she found him a moment later, putting some things away on his boat. She was a lovely little sailboat in immaculate condition. It was easy to see how much he loved her by how beautifully he kept her. Everything on deck had been varnished, the brass shone, and the hull had been freshly painted white that spring. She had one mast, which rose forty feet in the air, with a mainsail and a jib, and a fair amount of sail for her size. She had a short bowsprit that made her look longer than her thirty feet, a small engine, and a tiny cabin with ceilings too low for Matt to stand up. And her name was Nessie II, named for the daughter he hadn't seen in six years. The elegant little sailboat was a gem, and Ophélie stood back with a smile as she admired her from the dock. “What a little beauty she is, Matt.” She meant every word of it and couldn't wait to sail with him.

  “Isn't she?” He looked pleased. “I really wanted you to see her before you left.” And sailing on her was better yet. He was anxious to get under way. Ophélie took off her sandals, and he helped her on board. He started the engine, and she helped him get the lines off the dock. And a moment later, they were moving at a good clip down the lagoon toward the ocean. It was a perfect day for a sail.

  “What a lovely boat!” Ophélie said again, admiring all the little details that he so lovingly tended to in his spare time. The pretty little sailboat was one of the joys of his life, and he was happy to be sharing it with her. “When was she built?” Ophélie asked with interest as they reached the mouth of the lagoon, and he moved into the ocean and turned off the engine, as they felt the breeze pick up. For a moment, Ophélie savored the delicious silence of the sailboat, as they felt the ocean beneath them, and the wind overhead as he put up the sails. She was easy for him to manage on his own, but without asking, Ophélie began to help him.

  “She was built in 1936,” he said proudly. “I've had her for about eight years. I bought her from a man who had owned her since just after the war. She was in great shape, but I did a fair amount of restoration on her myself.”

  “She's a jewel,” Ophélie said, and then remembered her promise to Pip. She stuck her head in the cabin, and grabbed a life vest that was hanging on a peg. Matt looked faintly surprised when he saw her put it on. She had told him she was a strong swimmer, and she loved to sail. “I promised Pip,” she answered the question in his eyes. And he nodded, as the wind caught their sails and they got under way. It was an exquisite feeling as the sailboat cut through the water with delicious grace. They exchanged the long, slow smile of two sailors enjoying the pleasure of the boat on a perfect day.

  “Do you mind if we head out a bit?” he asked, as Ophélie shook her head, looking positively blissful. She didn't mind at all, as they left the beach and its row of houses far behind. She wondered if Pip was watching them, and hoped she was. They were a lovely sight. And then, as she sat beside him at the tiller, Ophélie told him about Pip's reaction before she left.

  “I guess I didn't realize how anxious she's gotten since …” She didn't finish her sentence, and he understood, as Ophélie sat with her face up to the sun and closed her eyes. He wasn't sure which was the prettier sight, the sailboat that he loved, or the woman at his side.

  They sailed for a long time in silence until the beach had all but disappeared. She had promised Pip they wouldn't stay out for long, but it was too tempting to just sail away and leave the world behind. She had almost forgotten what a relief it was to be sailing on a lovely boat. It was the most peaceful thing she knew. And she didn't mind at all when the wind came up. He was pleased to see that she really was a sailor, and was enjoying it as much as he had hoped she would. For a moment, she wished that they could sail away forever and never go back. It was such an extraordinary feeling of freedom and peace. She hadn't felt this happy or content in years, and it was lovely sharing it with him.

  They passed a number of fishing boats, and waved at them, and in the distance there was a freighter on the horizon, heading in. They were heading in the direction of the Farallones, when Matt leaned to the side and seemed to be looking at something. Ophélie glanced in the same direction but saw nothing. She wondered if he'd seen a seal or a big fish, hopefully not a shark. He handed the tiller to her, and went below, grabbed a pair of binoculars, and came back up. He looked through them with a frown.

  “What's up?” She wasn't worried, just curious, and wished she could take off the cumbersome vest, but she had promised Pip, and wanted to keep her word, on principle, not out of any need.

  “I thought I saw something a minute ago,” he answered her. “I guess not.” The waves had come up a bit, which didn't bother her, but it made it harder to see. She had never gotten seasick in her life, she loved the movement of the boat, n
o matter how rough it got.

  “What did you think you saw?” she asked with interest, sitting next to him. He was thinking about turning back, they had come very far, and had been sailing for over an hour, nearly two, with a good wind at their backs.

  “I'm not sure…it looked like a surfboard, but it's too far out for that, unless it fell off a boat.” She nodded, and he adjusted the sails, and just as they turned, she saw it this time and shouted to him in the wind, and pointed. She grabbed the binoculars, and this time saw not only the board, but a man clinging to it. She waved frantically at Matt, and he quickly grabbed the binoculars from her, nodded, and together they maneuvered the sails down, and he started the engine and headed toward what they'd seen as fast as he could. Getting the sails down in the brisk wind was harder to do than it looked.

  It took them several minutes to reach the board, and when they did they both saw that the man clinging to it was barely more than a boy, he was nearly unconscious, his face was gray and his lips were a deep blue. It was impossible to guess where he'd come from or how long he'd been there. He was miles and miles from shore. Ophélie helped Matt steady the boat, while he disappeared into the cabin for a length of sturdy rope. The water was getting rougher, and Ophélie felt her throat tighten as she realized what an impossible task it was going to be to get the boy on the boat. Pulling him out of the water was going to be a Herculean feat, but getting the rope around him before that was going to be even harder. As they approached him, they could see that he was shaking violently, and he looked at them with desperate eyes.

  “Hang on!” Matt shouted at him, realizing that as long as he clung to the board they couldn't get the rope around him, and if he let go, he might drown. He was wearing an abbreviated wetsuit, which had probably saved his life thus far, and looking at him with a lump in her throat the size of a fist, Ophélie guessed him to be about sixteen, the same age as Chad. All she could think of was that somewhere there was a woman who was about to lose her son and suffer untold grief. She didn't see how they could save him either. Matt had a small radio onboard, but other than the freighter, which was miles away, there were no boats in sight, and even the Coast Guard would take too long to arrive. If he was to live, they had to save him themselves. And there was no telling how far gone he was, or how long he'd been in the water. It was obvious to both of them they didn't have much time. Matt reached into the cabin and grabbed a life vest, and asked Ophélie a question before he dove in. “Can you get the boat back yourself if you have to?” She nodded without hesitating. She had sailed alone in Brittany for years as a young girl, often in rough weather, and conditions far more adverse than this. But he needed to know before he left her alone onboard.