Throwing Jake a look that should have shrivelled him at her feet, Ella stalked into the bathroom. Moments later the sound of running water could be heard. Even the gushing faucets sounded angry, Jake thought. What a mess.
Clad in only his boxers and feeling about sixteen, he dithered for a moment at the bathroom door, torn between trying to apologise again and just wanting to get the hell out.
Getting the hell out won.
He was about to step into his trousers when there was another sharp knock on the door.
“Mr Tremaine, please open up.”
“One minute,” Jake called, pulling on the trousers and raking a hand through his hair. Then he opened the door, expecting to see the concierge with an elaborate breakfast that Ella had ordered – more evidence of her planning ahead and moulding him to her own agenda. Instead, he was taken aback to see his father standing beside the hotel manager.
Jake’s heart went into free fall. It was unlikely that Jimmy Tremaine had decided that now was the perfect time to have a father-and-son chat. Even if Jimmy’s face hadn’t been porridge grey, just his being at the hotel told Jake that something was very wrong.
“What’s happened?” he demanded. Fear made his voice harsh.
Jimmy Tremaine gripped the door handle for support. He suddenly looked every one of his sixty-three years. Even his moustache and ponytail seemed to be drooping.
“Dad? Tell me what’s happened!” Jake felt like shaking his father. A hundred horrible possibilities were racing through his mind. “What’s wrong? Is it Gran?” Oh God, while he’d been wasting time messing around with Ella had something awful happened to Alice?
His father took a deep breath. He was shaking. As an icy finger of foreboding traced a path down Jake’s spine, he realised that he’d never seen his father so upset.
“You need to come home,” Jimmy said quietly. “There’s been a dreadful accident.” He paused and passed a hand across his face. When he looked up his eyes were bright with tears. “Oh Christ, there’s no easy way to tell you this, Jake, but there’s just been a call from the coastguard. Penhalligan Girl’s gone down.”
Chapter 27
Summer stood at the furthest end of the quay, her hands curled around the metal handrail as she scanned the horizon, desperately willing Penhalligan Girl’s small life raft to appear. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her jumper, unable to distinguish now between her tears and the sea spray. She wasn’t alone; many villagers had joined the Penhalligans on the quay in a silent vigil and were now staring with her out across the endless waters. Like a pet cat that suddenly lashes out and scratches, the sparkling sea now felt both familiar and alien to Summer, and she could scarcely grasp what was happening. The whole scene had a nightmarish sense of unreality, only there was no hope of waking up from this horror.
The phone call from one of the Polwenna skippers had come only twenty minutes earlier, but already Summer felt as though that had been another life altogether, a more innocent one in which she’d chatted easily with her mother over breakfast while Eddie had sat grumbling about the low-cholesterol offerings and plotting his later escape to score a sausage roll from Patsy. During the ordinariness of that day’s breakfast time, they’d been so blissfully unaware of the unimaginable horror that lay in wait. Summer might have been worried sick about what was going to happen with Justin and her heart might have ached with the loss of any future with Jake, but now these things seemed unimportant compared with the news that the trawler and all hands had been lost.
“Tell me his isn’t happening,” Susie said quietly. She glanced down at her mobile phone just in case some good news had miraculously appeared, but the screen was stubbornly blank in her trembling hand. “This has got to be a mistake.”
Summer put her arm around her mother, pulling her tightly against her side. She knew there was nothing she could say that would offer the slightest comfort, because this wasn’t a mistake. The coastguard didn’t make errors about fishing boats sinking and emergency distress beacons being activated. This was as serious as these things could ever be, and now they were waiting for a rescue helicopter to be scrambled as soon as one was available. Every fishing boat from the Polwenna Bay fleet had abandoned its towing in order to steam to the last known co-ordinates of Penhalligan Girl. No mistake had been made, or at least not by anyone who wasn’t on board Penhalligan Girl.
Of course, Susie knew this just as well as Summer did – and so did every other resident of the village. All fishing families dreaded a call like this and prayed that they would never receive one, even though the churchyard at St Wenn’s was filled with evidence that such things did happen.
Summer had woken early that morning with the rays of the sun dancing across the floorboards of her bedroom, and filled with a resolve to tell her family the truth. Seeing Jake the day before, so near and yet a million miles away, had been something of a wake-up call and a vivid reminder that her life was hurtling in a very different direction. Knowing that the Penhalligans were always up at the crack of dawn, she’d walked through the newly born morning before letting herself into the family’s cottage and drinking strong tea with her parents. Nobody had mentioned anything about the boys being out the previous night and, since the boat had gone, Summer had heaved a sigh of relief that she hadn’t stressed her father unnecessarily. Her relief was short-lived; moments later Eddie’s mobile had rung and the whole nightmare had begun in earnest.
It had taken both Susie and Summer several minutes to get any sense out of Eddie. He’d slumped at the kitchen table, the phone clutched against his chest and with his mouth gaping like something from his nets. White faced, and after downing a shot of emergency whiskey from the bottle Susie kept hidden in her knitting basket, Eddie was eventually able to stutter out the dreadful news. Once he’d done so, Susie had also needed a drink.
The call had been from one of the other skippers, who’d heard over the VHF radio that Penhalligan Girl had sent out an emergency Mayday signal. All vessels in the vicinity had been requested to change course immediately and head to the area in which the boys had been going to fish that day. The hope was that they might find survivors, although the reality was that this was unlikely. For the boat to have vanished without any of the crew having made a call over the radio meant that disaster must have struck Penhalligan Girl incredibly fast. The emergency signal itself didn’t need to be activated manually, so there was no crumb of comfort in that either. Summer knew that big waves from a coaster could submerge a boat; she knew too that when frigates headed straight into the course of trawlers, the smaller boats were unable to change direction fast enough because their towing gear was spread miles out behind. These things had happened in Polwenna Bay before. Then there were the heartbreaking tales of young men who’d gone to sea alone and never returned, having been caught in their winding gear or washed overboard by a freak wave. Everyone had a story to tell and it was generally taken for granted that fishing was a perilous way to earn a living. You dealt with this by not thinking too hard about it and telling yourself that it was just as hazardous to cross the road. You had to think that way, Summer knew, because otherwise the worry and the statistics were enough to drive you insane. It was all about putting safety first every time and never taking risks. The sea was an unforgiving entity and there was no margin for error. Enough of the fishermen in the village had missing fingers or tales to tell, to make everyone aware of the dangers. Everyone, it seemed, except for her stupid, reckless brothers and bloody Nick Tremaine – who’d all been determined to party hard no matter what the risks.
Now, standing on the quay while her mother choked out gasping sobs, Summer felt close to hysteria herself. She might not have been in the wheelhouse but she was every bit as responsible for this disaster as her brothers. If only she’d said something to her father rather than hoping that Bobby and Joe would be sensible and only have a few beers. Eddie would have been furious, erupting so violently that he’d certainly have risked his heart, but that n
ow looked like the lesser evil compared with this far greater one. If only she’d spoken out then, he would have stopped the boys from going to sea.
It was her fault. Yet again she’d brought nothing but misery to the people she loved.
“Summer Penhalligan? Susie?” A small plump woman with the kindest eyes Summer had ever seen and a crazy mop of purple hair joined them. Although she was wearing jeans and a Quiksilver hoody, the dog collar peeking out gave away her identity and a cold claw scraped Summer’s heart. If the vicar was here then it could only mean that bad news was expected – or maybe had already reached the village.
The woman held out her hand. “I’m Jules Mathieson.”
“The vicar,” Susie whispered. She grasped the outstretched hand, clutching it as though it was a life raft, and her eyes filled with tears that spilled onto her cheeks. “Are you praying for us, Vicar?”
Jules took Susie’s hands in her own. “Mrs Penhalligan, I’ve been praying for your boys from the second I heard the news and I’ll carry on praying until they come home, but I’m not strictly here on church business. I’m a friend of Danny Tremaine and last night we had to carry his brother Nick home from the party up at the hotel.”
Susie stared at her. “Nick? Our skipper, Nick?”
“I’m afraid so. He went to the St Miltons’ ball last night and had far too much to drink. From what I can gather quite a few of the youngsters gate-crashed the party.”
“And my boys were there too, weren’t they?”
The vicar sighed and was about to speak when Susie interrupted.
“It’s all right, Vicar; you don’t need to tell me that. I know they were. If there’s a party then Bobby and Joe will be the first ones there. But to take the boat out when they’ve been up all night drinking?” Susie looked utterly defeated. “They know that’s asking for trouble.”
Summer couldn’t keep the truth in for a second longer. “This is all my fault! Mum, I knew they were going up to the hotel – I caught them sneaking out – but I didn’t say anything because I was scared that Dad would upset himself. Nothing I said was going to change their minds.” Her vision blurred, the sea shimmering dangerously. “If I’d said something then they’d be safe.”
“You need to know something,” said Jules. She was still holding Susie’s hands and amid the swelling despair she was a calming presence. “Nick didn’t go to sea this morning – as far as I know he’s still unconscious up at Seaspray – but Danny and I did see your boys last night, because they helped us carry Nick to a cab, and I can promise you that neither of them was drunk. In fact they shared the taxi back down to the village with us. Bobby was furious with Nick because it would leave them short-handed, but your son certainly wasn’t drunk. He said that he’d only had a couple of beers.”
“And do you believe that?” Summer desperately wanted this to be true; two beers was nothing out of the ordinary for a fisherman the night before a fishing trip, and she knew that if that had been all both her brothers would have been fine after a sleep and some breakfast. If they’d really been careful then whatever had happened at sea might not have been down to an error of their judgement – although not having their more experienced skipper and being short-handed could certainly have made a difference. They’d be guilty of being a little rash, but hardly the first fishermen who’d gone to sea light on crew.
Jules looked thoughtful. “I don’t know either of them, of course, but Danny does and he didn’t seem to think they were in a bad way. They were in high spirits but that was all. Actually they seemed keen to get back so that they’d have some sleep. It was Nick who’d taken it too far.”
“Sounds about right.” Susie’s face darkened with anger. “Nick’s done that several times before.” She looked at Summer. “Jake promised us that it wouldn’t happen again. He promised.”
“With all the good intentions in the world, I don’t think this was something Jake could really promise,” said Jules gently, “and I should imagine that when he gets home and speaks to Nick there’ll be hell to pay.”
“So because Nick got drunk the boat had to go out short-handed, with two boys who’d been out partying and were probably still half asleep,” Susie said wearily. “Why did they have to be so stupid?”
“They would have thought they were doing the right thing, Mum. They wanted to keep the boat earning,” Summer began, but Susie rounded on her, eyes flashing with fury.
“And as for you, how could you not tell us what was going on? Didn’t you care that your brothers were putting their lives at risk? Or don’t they feature any more either? If anything happens to them, Summer Penhalligan, it will be your fault!”
“I didn’t want to upset Dad,” Summer cried, stung by the unfairness of this. “I was worried about his heart. I didn’t know what to do for the best.”
“So you decided it was easier to let them go to sea? Risk their lives? Cross your fingers none of us would be any the wiser?” Susie’s contempt was so sharp that Summer recoiled. “Who are you, Summer? I don’t feel I even know you anymore.”
“I thought I was doing the right thing!” Summer couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “I was so frightened that Dad would have another heart attack.”
“This is a really difficult time for all of you,” Jules said softly to Susie, “but I’m sure Summer was trying hard to think of everyone, and we all know just how ill Eddie’s been. Danny’s certain that the boys weren’t drunk at all; he was actually impressed that they had the sense to know when to stop.”
But Susie wasn’t prepared to let her daughter off the hook this easily.
“But Summer didn’t know that the boys hadn’t been drinking.” Susie shook her head slowly and the look of disappointment in her eyes made Summer feel sick. “If anything’s happened to them then I’ll know who’s to blame. If we’d known then we could have stopped them! They wouldn’t be… be… out there!”
Summer couldn’t bear to listen to another word. Nobody could blame her more than she blamed herself. With a sob she spun around, elbowing her way through the crowds until she was running along the quay and away from her mother, but no matter how fast she ran Susie’s accusing words followed her. Blinded by tears and with her emotions as tangled as the nets strewn in bins alongside the fish market, Summer fled through the winding streets.
Her brothers were missing at sea and it was all her fault. Susie would never forgive her and Summer knew that she would never forgive herself. She was like a curse to everyone and everything she had ever loved. Her shoulders shook. She should never have come back to Polwenna Bay. Returning had been a big mistake.
By the time she was almost back at her cottage, Summer’s breath was coming in aching gasps and it felt as though an industrial sewing machine was needling stitches across her stomach. With one hand clutching her abdomen and the other frantically trying to jab the key into the lock, she sobbed in frustration. All she wanted to do was hide away from everyone, curl up in the window to watch the horizon for a returning boat, and pray harder than she’d ever prayed for anything in her life that Bobby and Joe would come back to them.
“Summer! Summer! Are you all right?” Suddenly, miraculously, Jake was at her side, gently taking the key from her hand and slotting it into the lock. “Jesus, bloody stupid question. Of course you’re not.”
Summer couldn’t help herself; the sound of that familiar voice and the kindness in his words were all it took to breach the dam of her despair. The grief was a tsunami sweeping her away and with it all the barriers that she’d tried so very hard to maintain. Nothing mattered anymore apart from having her brothers safely home again.
Somehow Jake managed to steer her inside, kicking the door shut behind them, before sinking with her into the window seat and pulling her close against his chest. There he held Summer against his heart and let her cry and choke out her sorrow and her awful guilt, stroking her hair away from her hot face until eventually there were no tears left and her breathing began to calm. Then
, after pressing a kiss onto the crown of her head, Jake crossed the kitchen and filled the kettle. Tea had always been the Tremaine family’s answer.
“This isn’t your fault, Sums,” he said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “If it’s anyone’s fault then it’s mine for not taking a harder line with Nick. He’s let your brothers down in a big way and, believe me, right now he feels bloody awful. We both do.”
Summer shook her head. There was no way the blame lay with Jake. She knew only too well who was really responsible.
“I should have told Dad what they were up to. I knew it was stupid.”
“And risk Eddie keeling over for nothing? I saw him that day when he lost his temper with the boys and I was terrified he was going to have another heart attack. Christ, I was on my way to see him and I dread to think what sort of state he’ll be in. Your Dad’s not a well man. You were only trying to protect him. Summer, trust me on this one, there was no way you could have known what would happen.”
Summer wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but it’s meant the boys have been at risk.”
“Your brothers are both adults, Sums. They know the job and they know the dangers. There’s nothing they’ve done this morning that they haven’t done a thousand times before. Your mum knows that really.”
“But the boat’s gone down!” Summer sobbed. “The boys are lost at sea.”
Jake couldn’t deny it. Everyone who lived in a fishing community knew what it meant when the coastguard was alerted.
“They have a life raft,” he said gently. “That’s where they’ll be. The coastguard will be able to track them. Their EPIRB gave a signal.”
He meant that a distress beacon had indicated their position. But Jake and Summer knew of enough instances of fishing boats sinking so fast that their life rafts didn’t have time to detach and inflate. Neither of them needed to voice their fears. Even if the location beacon had given out a signal, it didn’t always mean that a rescue attempt was successful.
[Polwenna Bay 01.0] Runaway Summer Page 32