Charlie Had His Chance

by Ellis Major

  Charlie asked the Purser, but he just laughed. “All gone,” he said. “You could go back on this tub, but you’ll miss your wedding.”

  Lance then asked whose phone they were using and Charlie explained. Lance asked to speak to the Purser, whose eyes widened for a moment before he said ‘ok, why not’, and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbled some numbers down and ended the call.

  “It might work,” he said, shaking his head slightly from side to side as if weighing up the possibilities.

  “What, what?” Charlie and Geoff chorused.

  “Go down to the harbour and pay someone to run you across in their boat,” the Purser told them, handing Charlie the phone. “Your Lance has just rented that phone from me. If anyone rings for me then just explain that you’re borrowing it and ask them to call George if it’s urgent. Your Lance is going to sort out getting it back to me once you give it to him. He’s also talked me into giving you some cash.”

  “Very good of you,” said Charlie. “We must have honest faces.”

  “I don’t care what your faces are like,” the Purser told them drily. “A credit card number and security code, however, are meat and drink to me. Now let’s get your cash and I’ll point out where the best boats are. The tide’s right so there’ll be a few early birds around for sure. If money is no object, then you might get lucky. No time to waste, as your Lance pointed out. He said for you to call him with a progress report once you’re in the harbour.”

  Charlie and Geoff were furnished with a fair wad of cash by the Purser who pointed them in the right direction and wished them good luck.

  “Keep everything crossed, Geoff,” Charlie advised his fellow groom as they walked towards the harbour.

  “Don’t worry, Charlie, it’s all been crossed since I woke up. How could they do this to us? They swore! It really is too bad! I bet this was all Roddy’s idea. I’ll kill him with my bare hands when I see him I really will!”

  Charlie was quite philosophical, having played his part in a few Stag nights in the past – although he never felt it was very sporting to abandon the groom anywhere. The whole point was to have some fun but not ruin the wedding. Besides, he was sure Lance would have another solution if the boat idea didn’t work.

  “Best not do it in front of the assembled family and guests,” he advised Geoff. “Anyway,” he added. “It’s not their fault the volcano went up. But it’s a bit rough on Lance. Roddy must have guessed Lance would do something with a tracker after he saved our bacon in the Sudan – saved our bacon in the Sudan, that has quite a ring to it, doesn’t it. Poor old Lance though, he was probably up all night worrying - and he had the runs.”

  Geoff suddenly gripped Charlie’s arm. “Look Charlie.”

  “That does look pretty fast,” Charlie breathed. “Let’s have a word with him PDQ.”

  The ‘him’ was a very nautical looking fellow, peaked cap, big bushy white beard, a pipe, sailor’s navy jersey, canvas trousers and deck shoes. He was standing, puffing on his pipe, with his back to them.

  The boat was long, low and sleek, built, as Charlie had realised, for speed. It gleamed very prettily in the sun.

  “Good morning, sir,” Charlie hailed him as they approached him at a trot. “Or should I say Captain?”

  The nautical type turned and surveyed them. He removed his pipe from his mouth.

  “Morning chaps,” he greeted them equably. “Nice outfits.”

  “Best we could do in the circumstances,” Charlie explained. “We’re in a bit of a fix. We’re getting married and the airport’s closed.”

  Their new acquaintance raised his generous white eyebrows. “You don’t need to go to the airport to get married,” he said. “There’s a Register Office in town. They do civil partnerships – we’re very liberal here now.”

  Charlie looked blank for a moment then smiled. “Oh I see, very droll, ha, ha, ha. No, we’re not getting married to each other. It’s a double wedding and the Stag night got a bit out of hand.”

  “Aahh.” He with the beard nodded sagely and took another puff. “That can happen.”

  “And we need to get back to London in bit of hurry,” Charlie explained. “But there are no flights.”

  “I see.”

  “And all the fast ferries are booked. We wondered if you’d care to help us out with this fine boat here and get us to Portsmouth. We would be happy to pay a reasonable fee.”

  “When’s the wedding then?”

  “Two this afternoon.”

  The sailor took another puff on his pipe and then glanced at his watch.

  “We’d better get on with it then,” he said. “Jump in.”

  “What you’ll take us?” Charlie could scarcely believe his ears.

  “Of course. My pleasure.”

  “Well that’s very handsome of you. Charlie held out his hand. “Charlie Tiptree and this is Geoff, I mean Geoffrey Blenkinsop.”

  “Jim Ladd, two ds and I’ve heard all the jokes,” Captain Ladd introduced himself. He bent down and loosened the rope securing the bow. “Make yourselves at home.” He moved with surprising speed to loosen the stern rope, jump aboard and fire up the engines. Within seconds they were roaring out of the harbour. Neither Geoff nor Charlie looked back – why should they? It was probably for the best.

  “I’d better give Lance a quick call before the phone gives out,” Charlie announced.

  Lance was both surprised and relieved to hear that they’d secured transport so swiftly.

  “Perfect,” he grunted. “I won’t need to hijack a helicopter. I’ll get down to Portsmouth in the Bentley with your suits. Give me a call when you arrive. The two twats are in Calais, stuck there with the other nob-heads who went along for a laugh. Sounds like that arsehole Roddy might have stitched up Willy too, although he was too scared to talk to me about it. Roddy and those other bozos were under the impression that the ferry they put you on was for Calais, where they’d intended to meet you and come back on the train.”

  “What,” Charlie spluttered. “Calais isn’t spelled the same as St Helier.”

  “No Charlie but you know what I think? I think they were all pretty pissed, that or stupid and ‘The Hon. Roderick’ can be a bumptious little shit at the best of times. I guess that a booking clerk may have taken the opportunity to wreak some havoc. All I know is he’d better not come near me for a long time. I’ve never liked him and I reckon he stitched me up too. I’m not going all psychological on you, but I wonder whether I can sniff a bit of sabotage here, even if it’s not a conscious act. You rely on long distance travel at your peril. He must know that. Don’t say anything to Geoff, though. It’s his best man after all.”

  Lance paused and took a deep breath. “Right, Charlie; having got that off my chest, let’s not panic the brides yet. The grooms need to be there but the, er, Best Men are dispensable.” The contempt had been building up in Lance’s voice as he’d been speaking. When he mentioned Willy and Roddy it was about as acid as a human voice can ever achieve.

  Chapter 3 – A Communication (Year 2 – June)

  It was at around this time that Babs bounced into Rowena’s old room at the club to find Rowena seated on the edge of the bed in tears.

  “Bleedin’ ‘ell darlin’, wot’s up,” Babs cried.

  Rowena held out a card. “What have I done Babs that I’m supposed to have so little happiness in my life?”

  Babs took the card. “Get Well Soon!” She opened it.

  I saw the announcement in the paper, she read from the printed sheet that had been folded inside. And I thought that you should know that Charlie Tiptree, your fiancée, is not the amiable and harmless man he may appear. He has obviously fooled you as he did me. He is a rapist, but a clever and ruthless one. He lured me to his flat, drugged me, and subjected me to several hours of repeated assaults. I had no hope of bringing any charges against him as we were dating and there was no evidence of his using force to make me enter his flat.

  It would ha
ve been his word against mine and I am sure you are only too well aware of how low the conviction rate is in such circumstances, and how the expensive barristers a leech like him could afford would tear my reputation to pieces to get him off. What was the point of putting myself through that?

  I can only warn you. I was one victim and there must be many others. You should know before you marry him. He is an evil man.

  A Friend.

  Babs threw the card on the bed. “Yer don’t believe this crap do yer. When did yer get it?”

  “Guy on the door said it was dropped off late last night.” Rowena sighed. “I don’t want to believe it, Babs, but this horrible little voice inside my head keeps saying, ‘what if’, or ‘there’s no smoke without fire’. You read about these people with these horrible secret lives, Babs. It may not be true but it poisons you, the doubt.”

  “I know wot yer mean, darlin’. But I still say it’s crap, total bleedin’ crap.”

  “Should I call the whole thing off, Babs, sort out what’s going on here? What if it’s true? Oh God, Babs, I was so sure, so absolutely sure, but what do I know? I’m twenty. I don’t know anything. I’m a stupid little girl from Norfolk with her head full of soppy dreams. He used to go to all these clubs, didn’t he, hung around with some dodgy people, especially that Roddy. What if he’s been doing this for years, drugging girls, taking them back to his flat? With these date rape drugs, they wouldn’t even remember what had happened half the time.”

  “Nah, let’s not be ‘asty,” Babs told her, hesitantly – Rowena’s face was very troubled.

  Chapter 4 – Hope Springs (Year 2 – June)

  Having finished the conversation with Lance, Charlie and Geoff moved forward to where Captain Ladd was seated at the wheel.

  “This is very kind of you, Captain,” Charlie said.

  “Call me Jim,” Captain Ladd told him.

  “We should sort out how much we owe you, Jim,” Geoff ventured. “Then there won’t be any hold up once we arrive.”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” Jim told them benevolently. “I was thinking of going for a nice long run anyway and Portsmouth is as good as anywhere.”

  Geoff and Charlie stared at each other.

  “Are you sure?” Charlie asked their benefactor doubtfully. “I mean it hardly seems right.”

  “I’ll hear no more about,” Jim told them firmly. “Now you go and sit out there in the sun and enjoy the ride. It’s a glorious day for it. The sea is like glass. You won’t even have to worry about sea sickness.”

  “You really are kind,” Charlie told him. “The least I can do is take your address and send you a large chunk of cake.”

  Jim smiled. “A piece of cake would be nice,” he replied.

  Geoff and Charlie made their way to some comfortable benches and settled themselves into the cushions to do as instructed. It was a glorious day. It being June, the sun was well up even at that early hour. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the sea really was remarkably calm. They were cutting through it at speed, leaving a long, perfectly straight wake behind them.

  “I’m starting to feel a bit calmer,” Geoff said after a few minutes as they watched the island of Jersey fade into the distance. “I don’t want to keep Camilla waiting.”

  “No,” Charlie agreed with him. “But you’re ok with Camilla – she’s alright isn’t she – families have known each other for years and so on.”

  Geoff smiled properly for the first time since he’d woken up. “Yes, all very happy on that score. It’s good when you can marry the right sort of girl with the right background. It all sort of fits doesn’t it. I’ll get a right rollicking if we turn up late but it’ll be alright once we explain what a wally Roddy was.”

  “It’s fine for you,” Charlie told him. “Every day I wake up wondering whether it’s a dream. Rowena’s a wonderful girl and I love her to bits, but, Geoff, I just think what does she see in me? She could have pretty much any man she wants and she has money now. I just worry that God up there in his Heaven is going to snap his fingers one day and say ‘oops, bit of a cock up, she’s not the one for you and that’s that’. Turn up late and that could be finger-snapping time. That’s why I wanted to be so careful about the Stag night.”

  Now Geoff was not the most tactful man in the World, and he was also worried. He didn’t give a lot of thought to what he said in reply to Charlie’s little speech.

  “Quite a few people have said that sort of thing,” he remarked. “Not about being late, but about what she sees in you. Everyone loves you Charlie. You’re a good guy...” His voice trailed off as he noticed his friend’s rather glum expression. “Look, sorry Charlie, didn’t mean to upset you. But it is what people have been saying. Cheer up, though! We’re going at quite a lick. No reason to fuss. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Rowena seems very happy. Just enjoy it for as long as it lasts.” It might have been better if he’d omitted the last sentence but that was Geoff for you.

  Charlie didn’t seem wholly convinced, wincing even, but gradually brightened up as a couple of hours passed and Jim drew their attention to the mainland.

  “The Isle of Wight is up there to Starboard,” he called. We’ll go round to the left and it’s no distance from there!”

  Charlie made his way up to the Captain’s chair.

  “That’s a big boat,” he called, pointing at a huge super-tanker ahead of them. “Do we go in front of it or behind it?”

  “In front,” Jim replied. “Less bouncing around if you avoid the wake.”

  They watched as their tiny craft closed diagonally on the huge vessel and saw a miniature figure waving from the superstructure as they drew level. Charlie and Geoff waved cheerfully back. The speed of Captain Ladd’s boat was such that they passed several hundred yards in front of the juggernaut.

  It was at this point that the journey became more challenging.

  The engines misfired twice and then died away into a profound and disturbing silence.

  “That’s a shame,” said Captain Jim, almost to himself as he stroked his beard. “Thought we’d make it.”

  They were a couple of miles south of the Isle of Wight by this point and it was getting on for ten o’clock.

  “Anything we can do, Jim?” Charlie enquired.

  “Not really,” Jim told them. “We’ve run out of fuel.”

  “Don’t you have a spare can?” Charlie wondered. He had seen people filling up cars with such things as he swept past in the Bentley.

  Jim just shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Just what there was in the tank.”

  “Er, guys,” called Geoff. “You know that big boat we just passed.”

  They turned around. Jim’s boat was drifting into the super-tanker’s path.

  “Don’t worry,” Jim told them calmly. “We’ll just get bumped about in its wake, although best to be prepared.” He poked around in one or two lockers until he produced a big bag. This turned out to contain a self- inflating survival dinghy.

  It was just as well that he thought it advisable to inflate it, have all three clamber aboard and then paddle for their lives. Contrary to his confident prediction, the bow of the super tanker hit the vessel they had so recently vacated precisely amidships. In an instant the gleaming powerboat was reduced to a great many pieces of very expensive, driftwood.

  The next few minutes were moderately hectic, as the dinghy was thrown about by the wake. The enormous vessel took an age to steam serenely past them and they were too busy struggling to prevent themselves from capsizing to see whether anyone aboard the tanker had actually noticed their plight.

  As the sea gradually settled, Charlie spoke to Captain Ladd.

  “Jim,” he murmured. “Sorry about your boat. You’re taking it very calmly.”

  Jim looked calmly back at him. “Who said it was my boat?”

  Charlie gaped at him. “But...”

  “You didn’t ask if it was mine.”

  “No, but why should we?”

 
Jim didn’t answer immediately. He was concentrating on lighting his pipe, not the easiest of things to do in the choppy water. Eventually, he got it going and, after a couple of puffs, explained that he rather got the impression they were in a hurry.

  “We are,” cried Geoff. “But look where we are now.”

  “A lot nearer your destination than you were three hours ago,” Jim told them equably, and with a sort of inescapable logic.

  “But if we’d spoken to the real owner, we could have got a bit more petrol and it would have been fine.”

  “No it wouldn’t,” Jim told them. “He’s an arsehole.”

  Charlie had a sudden brainwave. He pulled out the mobile phone. They were near enough the coast for it to have a signal. He dialled Lance.

  “Small collision Lance, off the west coast of the Isle of Wight, run out of petrol, boat sunk, in a dinghy, need help,” he rushed out, for fear of losing the signal, the moment Lance answered.

  “Fucking great,” Lance responded calmly. “I’ll call out the cavalry. Everything’s ready, Charlie and the tank is full.”

  “Help is on its way,” Charlie told Jim and Geoff. “We just have to wait and be patient.”

  Geoff had started to drum his fingers on the edge of the dinghy.

  “Easy to say, Charlie. But what are they going to do to us? Can we be hanged for piracy?”

  “Is it piracy, if you just take the boat?” Charlie wondered. “Don’t you have to take people too? Surely, if we pay to replace the damn thing, plus a handsome sum on top, it’ll keep them all happy.”

  “If it’s a big enough amount he might calm down a bit,” Jim told them.

  “But what about you,” Charlie asked him. “You live on the same island with him, don’t you?” Charlie recalled reading the Lord of the Flies when he was at school and tended to assume that small islands were places of savagery and evil.

  “He won’t be very happy with me,” Jim told them. “That’s the third time I’ve taken one of his boats. I’ve been having treatment, but it doesn’t seem to have worked yet.”