by Cat Knight
The second try at the ladder proved a success, well, a partial success. While she made the top, she stumbled, and that jammed her toe against the helm. Pain shot through her foot and leg. How had she managed to stumble over nothing? On one leg, she hopped about the bridge, cursing her clumsiness. What was wrong with her? Apparently more than she knew.
While hopping she managed to turn her ankle just enough to throw her off balance. Spinning, she fell, and her only way to save herself was to throw back her arms. Bad mistake. Her elbow cracked on the deck, and pain shot through her shoulder.
For a moment, she thought she had broken a bone; the pain was unbearable.
Holding her elbow, tears came to her eyes. She had become the klutz of the world. She couldn’t even walk a straight line.
Her only saving grace had been that she hadn’t cracked her head. That was all she needed. It was five minutes before she resumed her chores.
And nothing went as it was supposed to go.
Every time she needed the boat to be steady, it lurched. When she used a tool, it slipped. It seemed as if she was blind, trying to finish jobs best left to those with sight. And she was almost blinded when she sprayed glass cleaner on the windows. The blast of wind that blew the liquid into her eyes came from nowhere. She was lucky she wasn’t using anything caustic. That was all she needed — burned eyes. She was just a ditz. She was like those sad sacks in the comics, characters who never made the right move.
By the end of the day and her list, Darcy felt proud and sore. And she needed a pint. She really needed a pint.
That she had sustained multiple aches and pains wasn’t it. As a non-professional, she didn’t expect a perfect day, but she did expect minimal problems.
Cleaning and fixing meant nicks and scrapes. What handyman didn’t have scabs all over his hands? You find a worker with soft hands, and you should keep looking. Well, now, she qualified.
“Gooday, matey.”
Darcy stopped and stared, open mouthed. The voice was becoming more irritating by the minute.
And now, it was saying good-bye What kind of person installed a coming-and-going hail? That was decidedly over the top.
She couldn’t wait to find the owner and let him know that he needed to tone down the voice.
She didn’t want the greeting to hail at her day and night whenever she stepped on the walkway.
As she left the dock, she looked at the sky. Rain was coming. Just what she needed, a cold, rainy slog.
Chapter Four
Darcy sat in the pub booth and stared out the window. The rain fell in straight lines, no wind. It was a depressing rain, a rain that didn’t accommodate much. It was meant to keep people indoors, and it did its job well. This was the second evening of such rain, and for Darcy, it was depressing to the nth degree. And it didn’t help her aches and pains. Luckily, she had reached the pub before the rain began in earnest.
A pint of ale landed on the table in front of her, and she looked up.
“Don’t be so glum,” Mandy said as she slid into the booth. “You’ll get that boat out of the harbour soon.”
Darcy wrapped her hand around the pint, lifted it, and tapped it against the one Mandy held.
“To shakedown cruises,” Mandy said.
“If it ever stops raining,” Darcy answered.
“What happened to your finger?” Mandy asked.
“Aren’t you observant! If you must know I hit it while trying to hammer a nail on the boat. And before you can ask, yes, I did bruise my knuckles, jammed my knee, and skinned the back of my hand. And that’s just a few of the dings I managed to inflict on myself.”
“Aren’t you the do-it-your-selfer. Remind me not to ask you to hang a picture for me.”
“Trust me, I’ll remind you.”
“So, tell me,” Mandy said. “Where are you taking me on this first cruise?”
Darcy examined her best friend for a moment. Mandy was the same age and roughly the same height and weight, just a tad shorter and a tad heavier. While Darcy had dark brown hair, Mandy opted for some techno-version of blonde with pink highlights. It was the hair of a teenager, not a grown woman. But Darcy wasn’t one to judge.
Mandy had been her best friend since grammar school when they fought the Roster twins on the playground.
The Roster twins were the scourge of the school, taking what they wanted. Mandy and Darcy decided it would be better to battle than to whine, so they had a set-to. Luckily, the Roster twins weren’t the bravest boys around. It was at that moment that Mandy and Darcy earned a reputation and cemented their friendship.
“I’m not sure, yet” Darcy said. “How about Ireland?”
“Sounds lucky.” Mandy laughed. She loved little word games, and ‘the luck of the Irish’ fit into her repertoire.
“It won’t be all fun and games,” Darcy said. “You’re going to have to do some work.
“Aye, aye, captain, and by the way, congratulations on your captain’s license.”
“Thanks.” While Darcy didn’t brag, she was immensely proud of her license which was neither common nor easy to obtain. The license allowed her to run a charter service, ferrying passengers around the islands and to the mainland of Europe.
And the ferrying was going to be her source of income for the foreseeable future. She had invested her last quid into the boat, and she had to make it pay.
“Have you decided on a name?” Mandy asked.
“She’ll be the Champagne Taste. It seems to fit the purpose for the boat. Happy times, celebrations and making memories.”
“To Champagne Taste then.” Mandy raised her glass and Darcy clinked, stealing a glance at the rain. It hadn’t abated, which was not what she wanted. The sooner she took out the boat for an afternoon or two, making sure everything was working properly, the sooner she could book a charter.
Mandy took a sip of her ale, her fingers spreading delicately around the glass.
“Are you finished with the cleaning and repairing?” Mandy asked.
“Not quite, why?”
“Well, I can hardly go out with you if it means swabbing the sails and polishing the ropes or lines or whatever those things are.”
“You swab the deck, not the sails. But then, the boat doesn’t have any sails, so you can’t even batten down the sails. And you polish the railings and clean the galley, among other things.” Darcy fixed her eyes on the deep pink of Mandy’s painted nails “I’m not kidding, Mandy. If you want to come, great, but you’re going to risk your manicure in the bargain. At the very least— probably.”
“Oh, come on, are you trying to scare me?”
Darcy spread her injured finger out toward Mandy.
“As you noticed, today I smashed this finger, twisted my knee, cracked my elbow and stubbed my big toe. Now, this might be an extraordinary day, or it might be like that every-day. Who can say?!”
“Are you kidding?”
“Nope. You know me. I don’t injure myself doing household chores. But I did today. I started to think that the boat was doing something purposely to harm me. It certainly felt like it!
“Oh, don’t be mad. I’m the superstitious one. You can’t have that territory. It’s mine.”
Darcy shook her head and pushed her hair back over her ears.
“Hear me out. I know that sounds insane, but I’m not so sure that it isn’t the truth. One accident, OK, two, and yeah, I’m uncoordinated. Three or four? No, that’s not chance, it seemed more like it was a choice. The boat seems to want to harm.” Darcy leaned closer, in a conspiratorial mode. “And it might not like you either, Mandy. You might be exactly the sort of victim, it’s looking for.”
Mandy laughed and pointed a painted nail toward her.
“You’ll have to do better than that. I want my shake -down cruise, and you owe it to me.”
“I’ve warned you. Are you certain?”
“Absolutely. Let that boat try something.”
“So be it.”
Chapt
er Five
Bright sunshine greeted Darcy as she stepped aboard her new boat.
Although her knee still hurt, and her knuckles were stiff, a solid night’s sleep had wielded its magic, and she expected the day to be a good one. The rain and gloom had lifted. The sun felt warm. What could be better than a trip out to the channel and a shakedown of her new-old boat? She expected the event to be glorious. Well, if not glorious, then certainly memorable. She was a full-fledged captain for the first time. That was enough to raise anyone’s spirits.
She smiled all around, suddenly totally aware that the ‘Champagne Taste’ was all hers and that this boat was to be the source of her fortune — once she earned it.
This wasn’t like the bicycle she’d had in grammar school, or even the bucket-of-bolts car she’d bought later. While those had been hers, they weren’t necessary to her life. They were add-ons. This, this was the essence of her life, the source of her existence. She had this boat and only this boat.
That idea was both scary and exhilarating. In some respects, the boat was her baby, a new arrival that required her care and attention. If she experienced a few teething issues, well, that was to be expected. Nothing worth doing ever came off without a hitch. Someone had told her that, and she knew the truth of it. A problem overcome was a victory.
Before she could leave the dock, she had to make certain all was well with her craft. She had a checklist, and she followed it religiously. From the electronics to the engines to the fuel tanks, she processed the list in order. Only after she was thoroughly satisfied did she untie the boat and make ready to putter out of the harbour. It wasn’t exactly sailing, but it was going out on the open water. As she passed the other boats safely secured in their slips, she smiled. Those boats were as good as grounded. She, on the other hand, was the explorer. Her boat would test the seas.
“Ahoy, matey.”
She heard the voice, a woman’s voice, and stopped still, listening. Confused, Darcy looked around. It had to be someone on the dock. Shielding her eyes against the sun, she squinted. Boaters were a friendly lot by nature. If they spotted another craft, they hailed it. Simple courtesy. But Darcy didn’t see anyone, male or female. Yet, she was certain she had heard the voice. Perhaps she had motored past the boat with the nautical greeting. She didn’t pay it much mind. She had a cruise to complete and worrying about people who called and disappeared wasn’t on her checklist.
The engines were running smoothly as Darcy churned into the channel. She looked through the windshield and smiled.
It seemed as though the annoyances of the day before were indeed over and the boat was responding exactly as it was designed to do. A small ripple of success ran over her body. It was enough to make her feel giddy. She actually hummed a song. Even alone on the sea, she wasn’t prepared to sing.
She glanced at her compass. While she knew she was headed southeast, her compass said she was going northwest, a 180-degree about-face. What? She looked at her GPS screen, and it showed her bearing correctly.
She was running southeast. What was wrong with her compass?
Frowning, she tapped the device, and right before her eyes, the compass swung around to the proper heading. Reminding herself to thoroughly check the compass when she returned, she throttled up the engines.
And the port engine quit.
“Mayday, mayday.”
She heard the woman’s voice for a second time, and for a second time, she looked around. On the open sea, she didn’t expect to find anyone, and she didn’t. So, where had the voice come from? She didn’t think she could blame the wind for the voice. Of course, sound carried father over water, but she was miles from the coast. Where had it come from?
She throttled back the starboard engine and steered against the unequal pull. Twin engines, twin props, the boat ran better when both spun. Of course, if petrol proved a problem, running on one engine was just fine.
As she pressed the starter on the port engine, she added another mental note to her list. Why did the port engine cut out?
Frowning, she throttled up both engines, and they responded as expected. What had she done wrong the first time? Nothing. The port engine was just… temperamental?
At that moment, the starboard engine died.
“What the—” Darcy throttled back again. Having one engine on the fritz was something bad, having both engines acting up was a recipe for disaster. She had no sails. If her engines quit, she’d have to radio for help. And how would that look? A new captain with her first boat couldn’t keep the engines running? It wouldn’t take long for that story to circumnavigate the harbour. She’d be an item before she landed a single charter.
She restarted the starboard engine, and as she did, she realized that her problem might lie in the fuel lines. For some reason, they were not feeding properly. Perhaps they needed to be bled of air or cleared of blockage. Maybe they were corroded, and occasionally a piece of something clogged the line. She had heard of stranger things. Both engines purring, she assured herself she would clean the fuel lines before her next sojourn.
Someone blew on the back of her neck. With a small scream, Darcy spun to face the person.
But she faced only open space. Yet, yet, she was absolutely certain someone had blown across her neck. As she stared, she felt the hair on her arms rise. What the hell was going on? There was no way anyone could blow on her neck and then descend the ladder so fast as to not be seen or heard.
That was crazy. She looked from side to side, her heart tapping fast inside her chest.
If no one was around, then it had been some sort of weird draft, some swirl of air that had slipped inside the bridge and tickled the nape of her neck. It was a wicked draft and nothing more. As she turned back to the wheel, she told herself to calm down. The last thing a passenger wanted to see was a panicky captain. Licking her lips, she gripped the wheel, half expecting another draft to dance up her cheek. Instead, she found the compass pointing 180 degrees off course. She tapped it again.
Stupid compass.
Luckily, she had GPS. She glanced at the screen and it showed exactly what she expected it to show. Who needed a compass when they had GPS?
She needn’t worry about that.
The vicious laugh sounded right behind her.
Darcy spun so fast, she almost lost her balance. The voice had come from someone, a person. She hadn’t imagined it, she was certain of that, and yet, there was no-one. This was absolutely crazy. And for the first time, Darcy wondered if the voice was real. Was she actually hearing something, or did her strained mind make up the call? Was it inside her head?
And if it was, what did that say about her mental soundness, her ability to keep passengers safe during times of stress? People who heard voices didn’t captain boats. Well, not since Ahab she supposed.
Voices?
That would doom her business before it left port. For a moment, she considered lashing down the wheel, reducing speed, and performing a thorough search of the boat. That was doable, but was it smart? Yet, how could she continue without making sure she was alone?
“There’s no one else on the boat,” she said out loud.
She was sure of that, so the voice had to be… what?
A surge of relief pushed up through Darcy’s fear and dissolved it. She smiled and gave a small laugh. The voice had to be Mandy! Somehow, Mandy had managed to place a novelty store device on the boat, and like Blackbeard’s parrot, the device spoke occasionally.
When a whistle blew, Darcy jumped.
When a siren blurted, she spun around.
Then, she made the connection. The random sounds would scare Darcy out of her wits, and that was Mandy’s aim.
Darcy wondered if Mandy was laughing her arse off at this very moment. It would be just like her to play a practical joke. That was the kind of friend Mandy was. Well, Darcy knew two could play that game. As soon as she returned to port, she would find a way to get even with Mandy. How would she like Count Dracula saying “Goo
d Evening” inside her flat? Darcy knew Mandy was deathly afraid of vampires. The voice would drive her to distraction.
“Ahoy, bitch.” Yes, that was definitely Mandy.
“Yeah, yeah,” Darcy answered. “When I find you, I’m going to rip out your little voice and toss you to the sharks.”
Darcy laughed and glanced at her compass. Damn compass.
At least, the compass returned to true when she tapped it. She felt the engines, both engines, cut out. Shaking her head, sighing and groaning Darcy hit the helm with her fist. She had bought a lemon, a boat that wasn’t in proper working order.
As the boat slowed, she restarted the engines. Tentative hope, tinged with relief filled her as they restarted with ease. But why did they stop? At her current rate, she would spend her time at sea doing nothing but restarting engines and tapping her compass. It was crazy.
A tight frown settled over her features. Hadn’t she started the engines multiple times before she bought the boat? Had the compass acted freaky in port? Did she hear any voices while she was examining the boat from stem to stern? As she recalled, the boat had performed as advertised before she bought it.
Why was it acting up now?
Looking out over the water, Darcy watched the sun catch waves. There was an explanation, even if she couldn’t see it properly.
She was probably over sensitive to everything right now. Putting all of her eggs in one basket was risky, and she’d been advised against it by her accountant, but when you didn’t have enough eggs to spread far and wide…
That was the problem, she was on edge because it would be sink or swim and Darcy couldn’t afford to sink. The boat motored along, it’s engines purring and Darcy rationalised.
Well, the voice, that was Mandy, pure Mandy. And the engines, that was a faulty fuel line. And the compass was a stupid compass.
Luckily, she had the GPS. She glanced at the screen, and it went blank. She threw up her hands in frustration. She turned off the device and turned it on again. The screen came alive. What was that? A short in the wiring?