“I never thought of that.” His father looked down at his feet. “I suppose I’m a real city boy.” His head shot up and he checked the area behind the teenagers. “What if you’re being followed?”
Mary nodded towards Cowdenbeath - grey, smoky and spread across their path. “As soon as we cross that, there won’t be any footprints to follow.”
“Mary!” Bobby swiped at the girl. “We’re not carrying on. We’re all going home. Together!”
“You two should go back.” Gordon agreed. “But I can’t.”
“Listen dad.” Bobby sat down beside his father. “If you’re worried about the police, I know they’re not interested in you.”
“Yeah? How do you figure that?”
“Because you go drinking with the local policewoman all the time. It was her we saw earlier at your house.”
“Really? You think she’s been spying on me?”
“What? By sitting with you in a bar! The police just want to know why you left your car at Aberdour station. All they’ll do is insist you see a doctor.”
“Which isn’t bad advice, really,” Mary added tentatively.
“Then what? They’ll lock me up in a looney bin! And they’ll make you go stay in a home or something, because I can’t look after you!” Gordon picked up the book he had been reading and thrust it at his son. “The place I need to go is here!”
Bobby looked at the picture his father was holding out. It was an old black and white photograph of Dundee, taken from the Fife side of the Tay, with the rail bridge in the foreground.
“I recognise this place, Bobby,” his father urged. “I remember it. I can’t stop looking at the picture.” He shut the book with a snap. “I have to keep going. The answer to what happened to me is there, I just know it.”
“We could get to Dundee, you know.” Mary sat down too. “It’s only a day and a half to the River Tay. And if Mr Berlin’s memory doesn’t come back….”
“Then I really will see a doctor,” Gordon finished. “And don’t call me Mr Berlin, eh? It creeps me out.”
“You guys are insane.” Bobby looked from one to the other in frustration.
Mary rubbed at her nose. “I just got a fee….”
“And don’t tell me you’ve got a feeling about it!”
“Well, I do.”
“A day and a half, eh?” Gordon gave his most disarming smile. “It’s not long. Anyway, I can’t get into worse trouble than I am now.”
“All right. All right! But we’re coming with you.”
“I don’t mind.” His father grinned. “The countryside is a scary place when you’re on your own.”
“Eh, Mr Berlin… Dodd…” Mary began.
“Call me Gordon.” Bobby’s father patted his son on the shoulder. “The name Dodd upsets old sour puss here.”
“Why have you stopped?” Mary ignored Bobby’s scowl.
“Someone put a town in the way.” Gordon pointed to Cowdenbeath. “That’s not in my book.”
“What is this anyway?” Bobby picked up the slim volume and read the front cover. The Lost Railways of Fife.
“I found it in the house. It’s got maps and everything.” Gordon looked puzzled. “Didn’t say anything about a bloody great town. I don’t want to go into a town.”
“This book is about railway lines that existed over a hundred years ago.” Bobby slammed the book shut. “That’s why it’s called lost railways. There’s thousands of people living in these parts now. We’re not in the Sahara Desert.”
“It’s the only map I could find.” Gordon nudged Mary conspiratorially. “Was he this cheeky to me when I was a proper dad?”
Bobby sniffed disdainfully and Mary knew what he was thinking. As far as she could tell, Gordon Berlin had never been a proper dad. She thought it best to change the subject.
“Actually, once we get past Cowdenbeath, we can avoid towns and villages all the way to Dundee. We can cut round Loch Leven, and head through the Lomond Hills into Eden forest. If we camp there for the night, we can travel up to Wormit on the banks of the Tay the next day. Then we follow the river to the bridge. Dundee is on the other side but the Fife bank is virtually uninhabited. If we’re careful, I bet we can reach the city without seeing anyone.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Bobby’s father got to his feet. “Let’s get through this horrible town as quick as possible and back into the countryside.” He winked at Bobby. “You up for an adventure, pal?”
“Whatever.” His son gave a heartfelt sigh. “But I don’t get the cloak and dagger stuff. I really don’t. There’s nobody after us.”
“Hey, what’s that noise?” Mary held up her hand. “Sounds like…”
“I hear it.” Bobby looked up. “It’s coming from above.”
“Into the trees. Quick!” Gordon grabbed the children by the hoods of their coats and hauled them effortlessly to their feet. He spread both burly arms wide and herded them into the woods. They collapsed on the grass as the noise reached deafening proportions.
“Up there!”
Through the branches they could see dozens of fat shapes drifting through the air. Then dozens more.
“Helicopters.” Bobby shouted over the ululating rotors. “I’ve never seen so many helicopters. And they’re huge.”
The fleet of flying giants cleared the edge of the woods and floated north over Cowdenbeath, growing smaller until they sank below the horizon.
Bobby’s father turned to his son, a fierce look in his eyes.
“Still think nobody’s looking for me, smart guy?”
Bobby and Mary were too stunned to reply.
-31-
The North Sea. 30 miles off the coast of the Shetland Islands
Eddie Hall was dozing on his bunk when he heard shouting from the Captain’s cabin next door. The Skipper and the First Mate, it seemed, were having a fine old barney.
Eddie groaned and put the pillow over his head. He had been given the dawn watch and now he was exhausted - but the argument was too intense and too close for him to ignore. Giving up, he lay on his back and tried to make out what was being said.
“I already told you, I’ve been contacted by our buyer,” Captain Morrison said loudly. “Instead of mooring off the north of Scotland, we’re going to keep going right down the coast, into the River Tay. The pickup point will be on the shore just before Newburgh.”
“Are you insane?” Salvesson shouted angrily back. “You’ll kill us all!”
Eddie’s eyes opened wide at that. The First Mate was a gloomy man and prone to exaggeration, but he sounded more agitated than the crewman had ever heard him.
“Do you have any idea what this consignment is worth?” The Captain roared. “Salvesson, we’re fishermen. We take risks every day!”
“We’re not fishermen anymore,” the First Mate replied scathingly. “Skipper, we can’t land anywhere with this cargo! We have to stay at sea!”
“We are heading for the River Tay and that is a direct order from your Captain.”
Salvesson uttered something in Norwegian and Eddie didn’t need a translator to tell that it was highly uncomplimentary. He heard the cabin door slam against the wall and footsteps thumping along the passage, up the ladder and onto the deck. A few seconds later a second set marched past. With a fatigued moan, he turned over on his side, hand brushing against the tin flute by his head. Eddie drifted back into an uneasy sleep, Salvesson’s last words to him still echoing round the young sailor’s head.
The Lillian Gish is doomed.
He woke again two hours later, hauled himself from the bunk and went up on deck. It was mid-afternoon and, despite the fact that it was December, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Captain Morrison was in the wheelhouse, steering a southerly course.
“Everything OK Skipper?”
“What makes you ask?” The Captain didn’t turn round.
“I heard you and the First Mate arguing. You said you were heading for the River Tay and he didn’t like it.”<
br />
“You heard right. We’re heading for the Tay.”
“But trawlers don’t operate from that area. Won’t the coastguard be suspicious if they see us?” Eddie didn’t like questioning his superior, but this didn’t make sense. “The First Mate didn’t seem to think it was a good idea.”
“Salvesson is gone.” Captain Morrison said. “I set him ashore at the Shetland Islands while you were asleep.” His steely gaze fastened on Eddie. “I won’t take insubordination aboard my ship. Understand, Mr Hall?”
Eddie was stunned.
“Can two people operate this ship?”
“It’ll be difficult, but we’ll manage.” Captain Morrison checked his compass, his hands now steady as a rock. “As long as you do exactly what I say.”
Eddie noticed something out of the corner of his eye.
“What happened to the radio?”
The black box lay on its side on the wheelhouse floor, a huge dent in its side.
“The First Mate and I got into a little scuffle. The radio got broken.” Morrison stood toe to toe with the crewman and stared down, unblinking, into his eyes. “Another reason I put him ashore. You got a problem with that?”
The Captain was a large, solid man and Eddie’s head only came level with his chest. With his bushy black beard and fiery red eyes, the irate Skipper looked like some old time pirate. Eddie hoped there wasn’t a plank hidden somewhere on the Lillian Gish.
“No problem, sir.”
“Good.” Captain Morison gave his companion a hefty slap on the arm. “And now we share the money fifty-fifty, eh? Greater risk but a huge reward. You could cruise round the world instead of working on a tub like this. You could really live, son.”
“Aye aye, Skipper.” Eddie glanced at the broken radio again.
“Then get below and check the engines.” Captain Morrison tapped the compass. “I want this ship moving at full speed until we reach our destination.”
Eddie left the wheelhouse and went below deck, his stomach churning. He didn’t understand why the First Mate had been so desperate to keep the ship at sea – but there was no doubt that he had. So why would he agree to get off at the Shetland Islands? And how come the engines stopping hadn’t wakened Eddie? He’d been on the Lillian Gish long enough to be disturbed by any change in the rhythm of its turbines.
Eddie Hall was too afraid to push it, but he had the horrible suspicion that Lasse Salvesson hadn’t been put ashore at all. That, instead, Captain Morrison had granted the First Mate’s wish in the most horrific way.
Lasse Salvesson, Eddie feared, would be staying at sea permanently.
-32-
Despite Gordon’s misgivings, the trio breezed through Cowdenbeath without incident. Bobby even stopped at a shop and got bottles of water and some sandwiches with the little money they managed to pool together. Nobody looked at them. Nobody talked to them. And before they knew it they were out the other side of the town and heading across the fields.
This put Bobby’s father in fine spirits and he treated his companions to a loud rendition of Anarchy in the UK as he walked. It was kind of embarrassing to listen to a grown man warbling a punk rock anthem at the top of his voice, so Bobby marched on ahead, leaving his father and Mary behind.
After a while, Gordon stopped singing.
“So, what’s the 21st century really like? I asked Bobby but he just said ‘hellish’.”
“He can be a bit negative,” Mary conceded. “But you must have some idea of what’s going on in the world. You’ve had nothing to do for two days except surf the net and watch TV.”
“Yeah, but I was mostly watching Sponge Bob Squarepants. I always found the news boring.”
The girl thought for a while. “Well…. There have been all sorts of new inventions, like cloning and… eh…. plastic surgery.”
“I like the internet,” Gordon said enthusiastically. “Have you got a computer? I could email you when this is over.”
“We can’t afford one,” the girl replied regretfully.
“Bobby says that everyone in the Middle East hates us and there’s going to be a religious war.”
“Yes, he would say something like that.”
“He thinks that overcrowding and pollution is destroying the world and that big oil companies are to blame. He says something called global warming is going to wipe out the earth. It isn’t true is it?”
“Bobby always expects the worst about everything.” Mary scratched her ear uncomfortably. “It’s just the way he is.”
“That’s a stupid way to be.” Gordon let the cold air fill his lungs. Then he let out a shuddering breath.
“He got that attitude from me. Didn’t he?”
“I don’t know.” Mary glanced guiltily at the man walking beside her. “But I think so.”
Gordon nodded to himself; his mouth turned down so firmly that deep lines dissected either side of his bristled chin. He stuck his hands in his pockets and trudged ahead of his companion, gathering speed as he walked.
He spotted his son cresting the rise of the next hill, looking small and alone. By this time Gordon was perspiring heavily and his gelled up hair was flattened to his forehead.
“Hold on there, Bobby boy!” he shouted, breaking into a sprint. But the camber was steep and the ground uneven. By the time he reached his son, he was gasping for air. His chest felt like it was encased in iron bands.
Bobby was sitting on the crest of the hill, his back to a rock, eating an apple. Reaching him, Gordon sank to his knees, puffing like a pair of bellows. His son knelt beside him, concern etched across his face.
“You ok dad?”
“My… lungs are on fire and… my legs feel like they’re being boiled in oil.” His father rolled onto his back, eyes closed and chest heaving. “Didn’t I ever do any bloody exercise?”
“Well, you walked to the pub three times a week.” Bobby picked up a blade of grass and rolled it between his fingers. “With the amount of staggering you did coming back, you must have covered a fair few miles.”
His father opened one eye and propped himself up on his elbow,
“You believe in second chances, Bobby?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when I get my memory back I’m going to treat you proper.” Gordon announced solemnly. “I’m going to be a better father, I promise.”
“What makes you think you were a bad dad?” Bobby glanced accusingly at the far off figure of Mary, labouring up the slope towards them.
“You do.” His father pulled off his rucksack and sat up, still struggling for breath. “You’re lonely and angry… and you hate the world and that didn’t happen overnight.” He furrowed his brow, desperately trying to remember. “I was like that too, Bobby. At least, I think so.”
His son bit furiously into the apple, looking the other way.
“The funny thing is, I don’t feel alone now.” Gordon patted his chest. “I just feel like I’m going to have a heart attack.” He chuckled to himself. “But I’m happy because of you.”
He gave a beaming smile.
“I just feel that, for the first time, I’ve got a family that I care about and who cares about me.”
Bobby sniffed loudly. The sudden lump in his throat wasn’t caused by the apple.
“When you get your memory back you should give up smoking,” he said gruffly.
Gordon lay back and stared up at the sky.
“Right now, I’d happily give up breathing altogether.”
Mary crested the hill to find Bobby lying beside his father, laughing uncontrollably. Gordon was giggling and coughing, his sweaty face bright red.
“Bobby was wondering how we’re going to find a school uniform to fit me,” he sniggered. “You know? If my memory doesn’t come back?”
“What? Is the air really thin up here or something?” Mary shook her head in bemusement. “Lack of oxygen must have gone to your brains.”
“He’ll make a great playground bully though, won�
��t he?” Bobby guffawed.
“We’d better get moving. And we should do it now.”
“Don’t tell me….” Bobby wagged a finger at her. “You’ve got a feeling.”
“Very amusing.” Mary gave her friend a swift kick in the leg. “No. It’s because you and the world’s biggest schoolboy here can be spotted ten miles away if you stay on top of this hill.”
“Yeah, you idiot.” Gordon gave his son a friendly punch in the arm. The impact almost knocked the boy over. “We’re coming, Mary. It’s all Bobby’s fault.”
“Aye, right.” The girl pointed to the rolling green farmland sloping away in front of them. “Come on. It’s all downhill from here.”
“There’s no need to be so pessimistic.” Still laughing, Bobby threw his apple core at Gordon who caught it and pitched it back. It bounced off his son’s shoulder and hit Mary on the back of the head, prompting another round of hysteria.
“Boys,” she muttered, heading into the valley. “They never grow up.”
-33-
The northern half of Fife was sparsely populated compared to the south and the trio were able to cross open country without fear of encountering a soul. Even so, Gordon Berlin’s actions were becoming worryingly erratic. He approached the top of every hill at a crouch and frequently scanned the dusky sky for signs of aerial surveillance.
“I’m not sure those helicopters were actually looking for you.” Bobby tried to reassure him. “There’s an air base at Leuchars and that’s only about thirty miles from here. They were probably on a training exercise.”
“Dozens of them? Is that common round these parts?”
“To be honest, I’ve never seen so many choppers,” his son admitted. “In fact I’ve never spotted more than one in the air at a time.”
“I’ve never seen that many birds in the air,” Mary added unhelpfully.
“Then we’ll stick as close to cover as we can.” Gordon glanced upwards again. “Just in case.”
“We’ll have to think about stopping for the night.” Mary looked at her watch. “The sun will be setting soon and we can’t go anywhere after that.”
Waiting For a Train That Never Comes Page 10
