The Salt-Stained Book (Strong Winds Trilogy 1)

by Julia Jones

  “Mum saw the flags, you see,” explained Maggi. “Not ‘U’, luckily – just the two-headed dragon and the Chinese national – so she thinks they’re welcoming, not warning. They can’t understand why you’re not being allowed to wait down at Shotley on Monday. They got quite wound-up about it.”

  “They’re worried you might do something silly,” said Xanthe who seemed to be breathing heavily as she hefted her cello case across to the music block. “So we asked how they would define silly...”

  “And Dad said it was driving up the A1 on a Friday evening towing a couple of over-canvassed daughters plus two chattering dinghies. He was in a bad mood. He’s put in that special book he wants Donny to have. Anna, wait!”

  But Anna was already through the swing doors and lost in the crowd.

  “Is something wrong?” Maggi’s expressive face was troubled.

  “Mmmm, sort of ... tactical. She thinks I might be going to ... do something silly. Um ... deceiving. She’s worried about your parents.”

  “Ah ...” said Maggi.

  “Since you mention it,” said Xanthe, “you might want to meet me and Long John in one of the practice rooms this lunch time. Maggi might or might not.”

  “And Anna very likely won’t,” said Maggi. “Lend me back that bosun’s bag, Donny. She and I might go and be girly in textiles.”

  Xanthe hadn’t been offering him a music recital. Long John had stayed at home. Instead there was a torch with spare batteries, a sleeping bag, waterproof cover, wetsuit, tiny camping stove, billycan and tins. There was also another, larger, sail bag for Donny to transport them to the dinghy. She’d used the case to get everything out of the house without questions.

  “But, Xanthe, you don’t do things without telling your parents.”

  “Yeah, yeah – that’s what Maggi said, but sometimes it’s for their own good. None of us wants you to be a duffer, none of us wants you to drown but my view is that exposure’s your most likely danger. Should you just happen to be caught out late at night in an open dinghy trying to do the right thing by your incredibly brilliant but unfortunately aged relative. Much less dufferish to lay in a few supplies. I’m sure they’d be pleased if they knew.”

  He wished Xanthe’d been on the bus after school. The mud- slinging boys from the Hard had the third member of their gang with them and kept up a barrage of abuse, mainly of the ‘pee-doh’ variety.

  Donny didn’t care that much but he felt sorry for Anna. She’d been a bit more cheerful after her session with Maggi but now she was white and tense and withdrawn again. She was sitting next to him and the insults meant she was getting noticed. Xanthe would have found the words to face them off. Maggi would have got people round to their side with her tact and charm. He just wanted to hit them. And he couldn’t.

  “What was all that about?” she asked, when they finally reached their stop.

  “You don’t need to know, believe me.”

  “Gits.”

  “Too right.”

  “How were you planning to get those bags indoors without Gerald seeing?” she asked, pulling herself together as the bus trundled away. “I suppose we could put them in the shed with the jumble sale stuff ...”

  “Nah, I’m taking them straight down to Lively Lady. She’s beyond the far end of the beach now. Xanthe showed me a good place. Though nowhere’s that good when the tide’s right out.”

  “But ... It’s Friday ... House Meeting?”

  “Oh, stuff it.” Donny had completely forgotten. “And stuff the Care Plan too. Now that my attitude problem’s been Professionally assessed I might as well get value from it. Set a good example to Luke and Liam ...”

  She’d gone a bit quiet.

  “Er, will they take it out on you if I don’t show?”

  “It’s okay. I’m not too bothered. I thought I might pretend I was still worrying about Deceit. I could start with my computer and the tools – ask them whether it would have been okay if I’d told them in the beginning that Mr McMullen had lent them to me ... That’ll give them the chance to lecture me about Trust and Openness etc. Then I’ll look all enlightened and say that I realise now that I should always tell people things – even if it might upset or worry them – because it’s better that they have a chance to express their opinions first than find out when it’s too late.”

  Anna opened her eyes very wide, tilted her head slightly and mimicked herself looking enlightened. Donny couldn’t help laughing.

  “Then, before they get us all holding hands on it, I’ll ask if the rule applies to adults too?” She snapped back to her usual sharp-faced self. “Whether it’ll be alright for me to do really mean things behind people’s backs when I’m an adult, if I think it might upset them to know in advance. Like fixing meetings and deciding people’s futures without even asking them or hinting what’s going to happen.”

  Donny wasn’t sure. “I dunno that they’ll get it. Seems to me they just assume they’re right all the time. Rev. Wendy does anyway and Gerald follows her. Or they both trot along in blinkers believing whatever Toxic Tune decides to tell them.”

  But Anna was not going to be knocked back.

  “Well, it’ll be quite of a shock for them when your Gold Dragon turns up on Monday, won’t it?” She handed him the bosun’s bag she’d been carrying, with the completed flags inside. “Perhaps I should simply ask whether they think we should be planning a tea party for Great Aunt Ellen to Welcome her into our Family Circle or whether it would be more sensitive if we gave you both Time Alone. See what they say to that.”

  Donny laughed. “Tell them I’ve gone for a walk, okay? You don’t know where.”

  Time alone with Lively Lady – him and his boat and the river. It was a calm, grey end to the afternoon, with an overcast sky and very little breeze, quite unlike the blustery conditions of yesterday when they’d come roistering up with the flood.

  He had a lot of gear and it was hard to decide where he could put it all. He and Xanthe had taken all the sails off and stowed them in the aft locker with the waterproof clothes and boots. There was a bit of space under the deck in front of the mast. He shoved as much as he could there and then worried that it might unbalance her.

  “I wish we were going now,” he said softly to the little boat. “Two whole days to wait. I’ll come down tomorrow though. Just to check you’re okay.”

  “My daughter thinks it’s a mistake to leave oars in a dinghy if you’re not remaining close at hand. I expect she’d apply the same rule to a rudder and a daggerboard if they’re detatchable.”

  That old lady again in her green beret. Was she some sort of leprechaun?

  “It puts temptation in people’s way, she thinks. Even this far along the beach. Not only by the Hard.”

  “Is she here? Your daughter?”

  Margery wasn’t on the beach. Hadn’t been here the previous night either. Or he’d have told Xanthe they needed to find somewhere else.

  “Gone away again. She comes quite regularly to check up on me. A good-hearted girl, if hasty. You can leave your equipment behind my boathouse. I might not notice what you’re up to.”

  He didn’t believe that, but what choice did he have? So he mumbled some thanks and checked Lively Lady’s anchor one final time before picking up the oars, daggerboard and rudder to follow his benefactor to the cottage by the wood. He had already taken a few pieces of codline out from the bosun’s bag so he could carry on practising those knots. Plus a stiff rectangular package addressed to him in what must be Joshua Ribiero’s handwriting.

  Donny placed it carefully in his rucksack. Something special, the girls had said.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The Salt-Stained Book

  Friday 22nd – Saturday 23rd September

  “Hide those plums! Hang them out of the window or something.”

  “Why?”

  The old lady had given him a bag and shown him the tree with the wonderful plums. She’d told him to take as many as he liked and share the
m with his friends. Then she’d explained how he could get back to the vicarage by a field path, which meant he didn’t have to use the road at all, except the very last bit. He’d vaguely thought he could use the plums to sort of cover for his absence. Divert attention.

  “You’re still such an idiot! Do you want them to know exactly where you’ve been?” Anna was totally exasperated. “Never tell them anything. Because, when you bunk off, that’ll be the first place they look. Even better, lie to them.”

  He used some of Joshua’s codline and did as she said. It was a good thing that his second-floor room was at the back of the house as it could have looked odd. Maybe he’d haul them in later and share them with the others. Have a feast.

  “Won’t Mrs Everson wonder what’s happened? When Gerald or Wendy don’t thank her?”

  “Too bad. You haven’t got long anyway. Toxic’s been here.”

  “What!”

  “She was here when I got back from the bus. Didn’t exactly lap up my ‘he’s gone for a walk but I don’t know where’ line. Ripped off at Gerald for letting you out with Vicky. You’ve been terrorising the local youngsters apparently.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re grounded all weekend and not allowed on the bus any more. Too disruptive. She’s taking you to school on Monday and you’ll be on report again. For your own saif-ty!”

  “So’s I can’t go down to Shotley and wait for Gold Dragon, more like. Where’s everybody now?”

  “Walking down to Pin Mill looking for you. Not her of course. She swung her Jimmy Choos into her flash car and drove away purring.”

  “Jimmy Choos?”

  “Her shoes. Surely even you’ve noticed? They cost hundreds and you never see her in the same pair twice. There’s no way a normal Welfare person could afford them.”

  It was so weird. Why didn’t the adults see it?

  Donny gave up. “I’ll go and pinch a couple of stamps then. I’ve got a letter ready for mum. I suppose I could write to Mrs Everson to thank her...”

  “If you must.”

  Supper was late, burnt and congealed. Everyone was bad tempered. Wendy and Gerald kept on at Donny, asking where he’d been on his walk. But by then, he could say, quite truthfully, that he’d been out looking for a postbox.

  When he announced that he wasn’t coming to House Meeting neither of the carers objected. Gerald possibly looked relieved? Then when Anna said she’d like to use the opportunity to plan a Welcome for the New Arrival in Our Midst, Rev. Wendy decided it was too late to have a meeting at all.

  “Luke and Liam have an early start in the morning. Third Saturday in the month. Time to visit your father.”

  The two boys looked at each other. Liam stopped eating.

  “I feel sick,” he said.

  “But you’re not even in the car yet!” said Gerald. It almost came out as a wail.

  “Have your bath,” said Donny. “And I could tell you more of the story.”

  Gerald looked at him. “That’s ... kind of you. Er, what sort of story?”

  “Organised crime, extreme violence and strong language,” Donny longed to answer. But not this evening. “Treasure Island by R.L. Stevenson. It’s a classic.”

  “I think we read it in school,” said Gerald. “Those little red books. Do you remember, dear?”

  “Not in my school,” said Wendy shortly. Donny looked at his plate to stop himself laughing.

  “We expect that you older two will lend a hand with the baby while I’m away with the boys. There’s still an Order preventing me from taking her …”

  “Take her over my dead body,” muttered Anna.

  “And Wendy’s so busy preparing for the Harvest Festival,” Gerald continued as if he hadn’t heard. “Though of course she’ll always Be There. So we thought, Anna, and, um, Donny, that you two might ...”

  “Save Social Services the expense of a baby-minder?” enquired Anna, sweetly.

  “Well, yes …” began Gerald.

  “No,” snapped Wendy. “We are offering you an additional opportunity for quality-time bonding with your own sister. John is confined to the house in my absence but you may both bring her with you to the village hall for the afternoon and help with the preparations for the Parish Supper. It’s a way of putting something Back into the Community.”

  “Where is it Luke and Liam go to see their father?” Donny asked Anna, much later, when he had given the younger boys their second instalment and reassured Liam that he hadn’t forgotten that he needed a Man U dream-catcher of his own to keep the bad feelings away. Liam had pleaded for it to be ready by the time he and Luke came back with Gerald in the car tomorrow evening. “I can’t make any sense of what they’re saying. A big place with lots of other men and dogs and keys.”

  “Prison.” She almost spat. “It’s where he belongs.” And she stepped instantly into her and Vicky’s bedroom and shut the door in his face.

  Joshua’s package contained a slim blue book, Sailing by E.F. Knight. The book was obviously old but not antique. It hadn’t come off the Armada or anything. It was just an inexpensive, well-used handbook with its covers buckled by damp and disfigured by a dry white stain.

  Donny worked out that it was the source of the photocopied pages that were teaching him about knots and the laws of the sea. But was that it? Maggi or Xanthe had said that their father had borrowed it from the yacht club library. So it wasn’t even his book.

  It had belonged to a Gregory Palmer. His brothers and sisters had given it to him for his fourteenth birthday. They addressed him as ‘Captain John’ as if it was a family joke and gave themselves the same names (in brackets) as the Walker family in Swallows and Amazons: Edith Palmer had been ‘Mate Susan’, Eirene Palmer ‘Able Seaman Titty’, Ned Palmer had been ‘Ship’s Boy Roger’ and Ellen Palmer ‘the Ship’s Baby’, though she couldn’t actually write.

  Donny decided to read Joshua’s letter.

  “My Dear Donny,”

  “Xanthe and Maggi have told us that you are hoping to meet your great aunt on her arrival at Shotley on Monday. This is good news and we are all delighted for you.”

  They do believe me!

  “We are, however, concerned that there appears to be little expectation among the authorities that this happy event will actually take place. June has just had a telephone conversation with your carers that has left her anxious for your well-being in the immediate future.

  “Of course it may be that you decide that the wisest course of action is to attend school as usual on Monday hoping that your great aunt will find her own way to make contact with you. In which case you are not at any physical risk and I cannot criticise such a decision.”

  Joshua had crossed out the next bit but Donny could still read it.

  “(Though I must say that if I had travelled halfway across the world in response to a dying sister’s wish I would be a little disappointed to find no-one at all to greet me.)

  “June will spend time at Shotley marina on Monday. This may or may not be the location your great aunt has in mind but we feel it offers the most promising vantage point, being at the tip of the peninsula. I wish I could offer to take a watch myself but I have a full operating schedule, which I cannot rearrange.

  “Meanwhile, you have Lively Lady which you may continue to consider as your own and use as you find most helpful. You must however remember that you are very new to sailing. Please be aware of your own ignorance. I am not saying Don’t – but I am saying THINK.

  “I am sending this book as your companion. Its first owner was the captain of a destroyer in the Arctic convoys of the Second World War. He was lost at sea – a good captain and a brave man. The circumstances were tragic. He had witnessed, at close quarters, the utter destruction of a ship commanded by his younger brother. It had been his duty first to search for survivors and then to abandon the search. The subsequent Enquiry concluded that he had acted in every way properly. He handed over command and, suicidally, threw himself into the sea as hi
s vessel, obeying his own final orders, steamed away from the area. This book fell from his pocket at that moment.

  “It was retrieved by a fellow-officer who presented it to our club library on his own retirement from the Service. He once told me that he had received an extraordinary impression that the book had chosen to remain with its ship. As in any other circumstance Captain Palmer himself would certainly have done. ‘A Captain’s Duty is to his Ship’ – as every seafarer knows.

  “An unspoken understanding has grown up in the club that members may borrow this book when they are embarking on some more than usually lengthy or hazardous voyage. I feel that I am extending the rules only slightly by borrowing it on your behalf.

  “I frighten myself when I think of the foolish things you may do left unsupported in possession of a dinghy. However I am going to trust you not to do them. You have a boat and a book to look after and there are people who care what becomes of you. I expect this volume to be returned safely.

  “There is absolutely no need for rashness, even if you are disappointed on Monday.

  With best wishes,

  Joshua Ribiero.”

  Donny sat still, breathing deeply. It was as if a weight of worry was being lifted off him. This was a permission letter. It didn’t remove any of the things ahead which frightened him but it took away the guilt that he’d be abusing the Ribiero parents’ kindness if he used their dinghy to reach Gold Dragon.

  It wasn’t exactly a charter to do a runner afterwards if she didn’t show up – he’d need to think about that.

  Gregory Palmer had obviously taken Sailing wherever he went. So had the fellow-officer who’d kept it all those years after his death. Its binding was becoming loose and the edges of the cover were frayed with wear. Donny could almost sense the imprint of the other hands who had picked up the book and opened it, either idly or urgently, needing information. He turned it over in his own hands. It felt as comfortable as a long lost friend.