[Polwenna Bay 01.0] Runaway Summer

by Ruth Saberton

  Summer glanced out over the ever-shifting waves. Somewhere out there were her brothers. Her eyes filled again. Please, God, she prayed, bring them home safely. I’ll do whatever it is you want. I’ll leave the village, stop thinking about Jake – I’ll even go back to Justin if that’s what it takes. Just bring my brothers home.

  Jake, oblivious to Summer’s frantic pleas with the Almighty, made tea and together they sat sipping their hot drinks and watching the horizon. His quiet presence steadied her but still, even half an hour on, none of the Polwenna fleet had returned. Was this a good thing or not? Summer wondered miserably. She glanced down at her pay-as-you-go phone but there was no message from Susie or Eddie. The villagers were still gathered on the quay and now a TV crew had joined the throng. No matter how many times she told herself to stay positive, Summer knew that this didn’t look good.

  “I can’t stay here any longer,” she said. “I know it’s pointless but I’d feel more use down on the quay.”

  Jake nodded. “I totally understand but, sweetheart, the news teams are there. This is a big story. Are you sure you want to risk being spotted?”

  Justin, the media and her anonymity all seemed irrelevant now. Summer wondered why it had ever seemed to matter so much.

  “I just want to be with my family,” she said sadly. Even if Susie and Eddie hated her right now, she knew that her place was with them. “I always have done.”

  “Then that’s where we’ll go,” Jake said firmly, and Summer found that she liked the way that they were a “we” again, a unit against the world. “Come on. Let’s go and find your parents.”

  So together they made their way back into the village and through the crowds, until they arrived at the quay. Summer heard ripples of interest as she passed and felt their stares follow her, but this no longer made her pulse race; with Jake beside her she knew that she could face whatever was coming – however bleak.

  Chapter 28

  Mo’s horror at the events of the night before had paled into insignificance now. After taking a call from her distraught grandmother, she had broken the habit of a lifetime by not mucking out and exercising the horses but instead turning them straight out into the paddocks. While they rolled in the mud like trophy wives enjoying a spa treatment, she sped into the village, little caring that her hair was still wild from the night before and her face was full of smudged make-up.

  Like anyone who’d grown up in a Cornish fishing village, Mo was only too aware of the dangers of the sea; hearing that Penhalligan Girl had gone down turned her blood to ice. Was it wrong to be so thankful that Nick had been too drunk to go to sea? He might well be consumed with guilt and regrets but for once in her life Mo was glad of her brother’s heavy drinking habits; ironically they’d kept him safe.

  The news had not long broken but already a crowd was gathering on the quayside and shocked villagers were huddled together, staring out to sea as though sheer willpower would be enough to bring back the trawler. Patsy Penhalligan was crying and Jules was already with the family. Shit, thought Mo. This looked bad.

  What could she do? Usually filled with energy, Mo hated feeling so helpless. Standing here on the quayside while everyone milled around talking in hushed whispers as they speculated about what might have happened was enough to drive her crazy. Surely there was something she could do to help? She glanced around just in case Jake was about with a plan but there was no sign of her brother. Given that the last time she’d seen him Ella had been draped all over him like a python clad in designer labels, it didn’t require a huge leap of Mo’s imagination to figure out where Jake might be. Ella was probably re-enacting scenes from Misery right now so that he wouldn’t be able to leave her bedroom for a very long time.

  Mo felt a pang of guilt. If Ella got her manicured claws into Jake it would be partly her fault. Wonderful as The Bandmaster was, she was starting to feel that he didn’t quite make up for Evil Ella being a permanent fixture in the Tremaine family. She was going to have to make some tough decisions. On the other hand, nobody had forced Jake to spend the night with Ella. It was a strange way to behave with somebody whom he claimed not to like.

  God. Was there a man alive who wasn’t a total disappointment?

  “I can’t bear it!” A dreadlocked whirlwind hurled itself into Mo’s arms and almost knocked her flying. It was Issie, green with a hangover and haggard with grief, and now howling into Mo’s shoulder in between hiccoughing “Bobby!” and “Joe!” at regular intervals. Mo wasn’t feeling sympathetic though. If anyone had been looking for a sign that her little sister and her crowd’s partying had got completely out of control, then there couldn’t have been a more obvious indicator than this. Still, now wasn’t the time to give her sister a lecture; instead, Mo just hugged Issie until the storm of weeping subsided.

  Catching sight of Danny above her sister’s golden head, Mo waved him over, her surprise at seeing her usually reclusive brother out in the crowds was less important than the need to know what was happening.

  “Any news?” she asked.

  “Nothing yet.” The good side of Danny’s face was set in a grim line. “Andy Penrice said he had a Mayday call come through to Wave Dancer and he alerted the coastguard straight away, but that’s all we know. They’re going to scramble the chopper from Culdrose to search for them once it’s back from a shout on the other coast. The call’s gone out for a lifeboat though.”

  Mo felt sick. This was about as serious as it got.

  “What about Eddie?” she asked. This dreadful situation wouldn’t do his heart any good at all, and for all his bluster everyone knew that he was a very ill man; his last heart attack had shocked the village. Mo hoped that Dr Penwarren wasn’t too far away.

  “In a terrible state, as you can imagine,” Danny said tersely. “I’m on my way down to see him now to apologise on Nick’s behalf. Jules is with Susie.”

  “And Summer,” Issie reminded him. She dabbed her eyes on her sleeve. “They’re her brothers, after all. They weren’t even drunk either. Bobby said they only had two because Summer read them the riot act before they left. They wanted to try a new tow as well. Bobby said something about Nick finding some really good grounds and that they wanted to go back and make a killing.”

  “Did they say where?” Danny asked. His hand gripped Issie’s shoulder and she yelped. “Sorry, Issie, but I think it could be really important. If we can tell the fleet where that was it could help. The lifeboat has the EPIRB co-ordinates but I don’t know how close they are to launching it.”

  “I think they were towing near the Shindeeps,” Issie whimpered. Tears rolled down her cheeks and splashed onto the cobbles. “They were looking for bass. Nick caught a load there the other day.”

  Danny and Mo’s eyes met. Mo’s stomach flipped with terror. The Shindeeps were a treacherous cluster of submerged rocks some fifteen miles west of Polwenna Bay where a sharp reef rose up from almost two hundred feet, causing big surges and eddies that bass loved. The area was notorious for shipwrecks and there were endless local legends about the men who’d perished there over the centuries. If Nick and the boys had been fishing these grounds, then it had only been a matter of time before disaster struck.

  “Think or know?” Danny demanded. “Tell me the truth, Issie! This really could be the difference between life and death!”

  “They were fishing there. They’ve been there a couple of times and caught loads. They said it was OK with their equipment,” Issie wept.

  Danny’s hand fell away. He looked grey. “Bloody idiots. I’d better let the coastguard know. If they’ve hit the Shindeeps…”

  His voice tailed away. There was a knot in Mo’s throat. Joe and Bobby were brash and a bit dim at times but they were nice boys and she couldn’t imagine them not being here. It was impossible. Those two boys were as much a part of Polwenna Bay as the seagulls and pasties. Images of playing with them when they were tiny flickered through her mind’s eye. Mummifying them in loo roll had been a favourite ga
me of hers and Summer’s, Mo recalled, and her eyes filled with tears.

  All of a sudden Mo wished with all her heart that she was still friends with Summer. What did any of the hurts and grudges matter in the face of this morning’s awful developments? Everything was in very sharp focus now.

  “And the boys really weren’t drinking?” Mo asked Dan.

  “Apparently not; just bloody Nick. I’ve just left him with his head over the toilet and Zak’s going to keep an eye on him. I’ve had words with him as well for being so irresponsible. They’re both feeling pretty awful, as you can imagine.” He grimaced. “The bloody Shindeeps. No wonder Nick had such a good haul the other day and managed to shut Eddie up. Of all the stupid idiots. If I get hold of Nick he’ll wish he’d never gone there.”

  Mo could imagine that Nick was already wishing he’d never fished those grounds. What must it be like to know that your thoughtless, reckless behaviour could be responsible for something so dreadful happening to your friends?

  Danny sighed wearily. “Was I that stupid at their age? No, don’t answer that, Mo. I’ve been pretty bloody stupid at twenty-nine.”

  Mo raised her hands. “Hey, if anyone’s had a reason, then it’s you. Besides, I didn’t say a word.”

  “Yeah, you don’t have to. The damage bill from the pub said it all. Anyway, I’m going to update the other boats and then find Jules. She’s going to want to do her bit to help Susie and Eddie, and it might make things a little easier if I’m with her.”

  Jules again? It was the most unlikely friendship she could think of, but at least it was one that was doing Dan good. Maybe he’d found God? Whatever the reason, Mo had seen snatches of the old Danny back recently, like glimpsing sunshine through clouds, and it was wonderful; if this was what religion was doing for him then she was all for it. She might even check it out herself.

  “Have you heard from Jake?” asked Issie quietly. She depended on Jake a lot, Mo had noticed, and he was a soft touch when it came to his baby sister. Quite how forgiving he’d be this time, however, remained to be seen.

  “Last I heard Dad was going up to the hotel to find him. Jake wasn’t answering his mobile,” Danny told her.

  Mo wasn’t surprised to hear that Jake was incommunicado – Ella had probably smashed his phone and broken his legs by now, if Stephen King was to be believed – but she was taken aback to learn that Jimmy had ventured out before eleven. Much as she adored her father, Mo knew that he wasn’t an early riser. Things were really serious.

  While Danny and Issie made their way to the Penhalligans, Mo wove through the crowds towards the marina and tried to lasso her galloping thoughts. It was unbearable to think that the helicopter was elsewhere and that the lifeboat was still on land, even though its crew were no doubt trying to respond to their alerts as quickly as possible. The Polwenna Bay fleet was heading to the last known co-ordinates of Penhalligan Girl, but the fishing boats were built for strength rather than speed and would take ages. If Bobby and Joe were in the water they wouldn’t have long before they succumbed to the cold. Every moment that passed by was critical. There had to be something she could do…

  “What’s all the fuss about, Red? One of you lot caught a fish at long last? Or is it that you really can’t bear to stay away from me?”

  Mo had reached the first of the floating pontoons and Ashley Carstairs, aboard his ridiculously expensive powerboat and dressed head to deck-shoed foot in Musto gear, was smirking up at her. His ropes were cast off and the rod holders of his boat were rammed with expensive fishing gear for a day on the water. His mirrored Maui Jim shades glittered in the sunshine and Mo caught sight of herself in the lenses, pale faced and hollow eyed.

  “I knew you’d come looking for me,” he added, his lips curling upwards. “I could tell last night how you felt.”

  If that had been the case then Mo was pretty certain he’d have put the boat flat out for the horizon and never shown his face in the village again. Before she could yank her thoughts back under control and think of a sufficiently barbed reply, Ashley gestured to a sticker on the side of the controls. It depicted what looked like a skirt and sweater, with a huge cross through both items in the style of a no-entry sign.

  “I’d say hop on,” he said, with that mocking grin of his that made Mo itch to punch him, “but you’re a little overdressed.”

  “God, you’re disgusting. All you can think about is sex!” she snapped. Yuck, she’d kissed this idiot. She was never drinking again.

  “Who mentioned sex?” Ashley pushed the glasses onto the top of his head. His dark eyes regarded her thoughtfully. “Freud would have a field day with you, Morwenna Tremaine, although he’d have to fight me first. Anyway, why’s sex disgusting? Filthy maybe, dirty definitely, but disgusting? Not the adjective I’d have chosen.”

  “Not sex! You!” Mo shrieked. “A boat’s gone down and all you can think about is sex!”

  “A boat’s gone down? As in sunk?” Ashley said. The mocking note had vanished and a concerned frown now dug itself in between his eyes. “Not a Whaler then – these beauties are bloody impossible to sink – but one of the trawlers, I take it?”

  “Yes, Penhalligan Girl.” Mo was beside herself now. “The coastguard’s been alerted but it’s taking too long to get there and the helicopter is on another shout. I know you think we’re all just a bunch of inbred pasty eaters but those boys could die of hypothermia if they’re not rescued in time.”

  “Christ. You really do think the worst of me, don’t you?” Ashley held out his hand. “Come on. Jump on board. Yes, you’re overdressed and you’d look better in a string bikini, but what the hell are you waiting for?”

  He was still trying to embarrass her even at a time like this? Mo was just about to spit a sarcastic retort right back at him when she caught his eye and suddenly understood exactly what he was suggesting. It was as though their thoughts had collided somewhere above the white deck, with a fizz of electricity and a flash of genius that would have impressed even Stephen Hawking.

  Mo wasn’t the daughter of a marina-owning family for nothing; although horses were in her heart, boats were in her blood. Cashley was on the flashiest boat for miles around, wasn’t he? A brand new unsinkable Boston Whaler with all the gizmos, including state-of-the-art GPS and, even more importantly, a pair of three-hundred-horsepower engines. It was faster than any trawler and probably even faster than the lifeboat. Before she could even question the wisdom of what she was about to do, Mo jumped.

  “Good girl,” Ashley said softly. His hands caught her waist, resting there briefly before setting her down on the deck. Mo was pretty sure it was the movement of the deck that made her knees quiver, but there was no chance to think about this: already Ashley was at the console, the engines were roaring into life, and the boat was making its way out of the berth and through the harbour gates before heading out onto open water.

  “Put this on.” Ashley shrugged off his life jacket and thrust it at Mo. OK, so he wasn’t about to drown her then. Not yet, anyway.

  “That’s yours,” Mo replied.

  “I’m not risking your life. Besides, no matter what you may think of me, I like to think I’m a gentleman.”

  His tone of voice said that he wasn’t going to be argued with, so Mo obeyed.

  “Thank you,” said Ashley. He glanced at her and winked. “I see you’re ignoring the bikini rule, but since these are extenuating circumstances I’ll overlook it this once.”

  He was so annoying that he made Mo’s teeth itch but right now he might be all the hope the boys had, so she kept quiet and pretended to be busy tying the cords.

  The chart plotter beeped into life and his finger hovered over the touchscreen.

  “I fish all around here,” said Ashley, seeing Mo stare at the on-screen charts peppered with tracks and plot points. “I have to have some fun when I’m not running the evil Empire or plotting how to cut down ancient woodlands. Besides, fishing is cheaper than building a Death Star.”
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br />   Mo was taken aback. Did Cashley have a sense of humour or was he really Darth Vadar? Sometimes it was hard to tell.

  “So,” he said as they passed the quay. “Any ideas where they were when their EPIRB gave its signal?”

  “The Shindeeps.”

  Ashley stared at her. “You aren’t serious? They were trawling at the Shindeeps? Bloody hell. Even a worthless incomer like me knows enough of this area not to go anywhere near those rocks.”

  “They wanted to catch some bass.” Mo bit her lip. “They’ve been taking huge risks lately and catching loads of fish. I think they’ve snagged the trawl in one of the wrecks off the rocks and the boat’s gone down. Maybe a wave caught it? I don’t know, but the Shindeeps is the place. Issie just told me.”

  “Red, angel, this boat’s unsinkable, not indestructible. You’d better make this worth my while.”

  He’d pushed his glasses back down, so Mo couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not. Quite how he’d like her to repay him she wasn’t sure, but her imagination was coming up with some suggestions that made her face feel hot. Luckily Ashley was far too busy pulling in fenders and throwing ropes into the hold to notice.

  “Ready?” he said as the boat passed the final buoy that marked the channel out of the harbour, and Mo nodded. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready for what they might discover but at least this way she felt as though she was doing something.

  Ashley pushed the throttle forward and the boat surged into top speed and up onto the plane with all the grace and power of a racehorse bolting out of the starting gates. Lace-doily wake spread out behind them and within minutes the village was just a collection of specks amid a smudge of green.

  The run across the sea to the Shindeeps was a relatively smooth one and under any other circumstances Mo probably would have enjoyed it. The sea was glittering and although there was a slight breeze and the water was lumpy, Ashley’s boat skipped across the waves as easily as a pebble skimming over a flat pond. The speed snatched Mo’s breath away and she clung to the handrail with all her might; she felt as though she was riding every one of the six hundred horses under the engines bareback and without a bridle. Mo loved speed and adored galloping her horses flat out across countryside, but this was something else again. The speed whipped tears from her eyes and made her cheeks wobble. She wedged her backside against the bolster seat and stole a glance at Ashley. The wind blew the dark hair back from his face and she could see how hard he was concentrating.