Ghosting Home (Strong Winds Trilogy)

by Julia Jones

  “Woo-hoo!” shouted Donny and Min’s face lit up. They did high-fives. Then they both ran aft.

  The shark-boat was barely visible. Lying on its side, wallowing to every buffeting wave like a punch-drunk boxer. Or a semisubmerged container. It was probably amazing that it hadn’t sunk yet. Must have some seriously good in-built buoyancy.

  The wreck would soon begin to drift. Donny thought he could make out the large heap of Flint sprawled on top of the hull. There couldn’t be much to grip on to. He surely wouldn’t last the down-river journey. If he did, and if the hulk didn’t run aground or snag something, he would be carried out to sea.

  They should probably try to help. Where on a ship like this would you keep warps? There’d be a locker on deck, wouldn’t there? Unobtrusive, handy?

  Donny couldn’t work up much enthusiasm. Min did nothing at all.

  If he found a rope, how would he get it out there? Gold Dragon would have flung a heaving line.

  Or would she have left Flint to drown?

  Laws of the Sea. He could maybe float a warp. Needed to find a life-belt or a fender or something. Donny forced himself to try to act. It felt like he was wading through liquid mud.

  Then Bill arrived. He had been watching from the camper van parked near Mrs Everson’s cottage and now here he was with Vexilla nicely balanced and her outboard ticking over. He’d guessed it would be Donny and had come to help. Bill was about the last person who’d feel any duty of care towards Flint.

  The wreck had begun to drift. Donny showed Bill the warp and the life belts he’d discovered.

  “Mmmm,” said the former fisherman. “I smell a salvage deal. Might need witnessing.”

  A white shape battling though the gloom. Mrs Everson’s sturdy daughter rowing the Margery. Ben Gunn, the black terrier, was in there with her, his front paws braced against the motion.

  “If it’s salvage,” she shouted, “you have to make him agree to leave his vessel. Then you get a percentage of her value.”

  “That’ll be worth a tidy sum,” said Bill. “Reckon I don’t mind putting meself out for that. I’ll be paying me own lawyers soon. Suing for compensation.”

  He looked determined and sort of grimly cheerful. There was no-one else in sight on the wild river. Flint had no other options. Except to drift away into the gloom, soaked and frozen, struggling to cling to the plastic hull of his sinking ship.

  “We may as well wait here,” said Donny. “I’ve got one end of a line made fast but I’ll only winch in if you give the word. And if Flint says please.”

  Min was beyond exhaustion by the time they got him to the vicarage. Their journey to the shore in the rowing dinghy was rough but it was the sight of Flint in Vexilla that had sent him back into trauma. Donny wished now that they’d pushed the bully under the waves and held him there.

  Mrs Everson’s daughter drove the two boys in her farm truck while Bill returned to the boats and Flint sat in the Swallow’s End scullery, wrapped in horse blankets and guarded by Ben Gunn. The shark-boat’s pounding had left the policeman dizzy and with blurred vision – as well as soaking wet and stinking of vomit. He had accepted Bill’s help abjectly and had agreed without a quibble that the rescue was salvage. He was probably concussed.

  Donny couldn’t be sure that their troubles were over for the night. There was still Toxic and the SS and possible deportation orders. They’d have someone on duty 24/7.

  Anna’s first phone call was to Ai Qin who’d returned to the Floating Lotus after the funeral. The Chinese boy needed to try to speak to someone in his own language even though they weren’t sure exactly which this would be. Ai Qin said that she would leave the restaurant at once and would hurry back to Erewhon Parva. It would be an hour before she could arrive from Lowestoft.

  Anna wanted to ring Edward next.

  “If anyone needs Witness Protection it must be this boy,” she said. “He knows first hand how the smuggling system works. He’s been in it. We can’t let anyone scare him any more.”

  “This boy,” said Rev. Wendy, “needs Sanctuary. For tonight I intend to fortify the house. Tomorrow, if we must, we will camp out in one of the churches. I defy Denise Tune, Inspector Flint – or the bishop himself – to take him from us there.”

  Having a baby Ellen in her womb had certainly gingered up Rev. Wendy. The Ribieros had gone home but Skye and Defoe were still there with Lottie and her family. Wendy marched around the vicarage directing Defoe and the boys to barricade all doors and ground-floor windows.

  “And if you should have a basin or bucket of some soapy solution balanced near the upper windows and they should happen to tumble when the forces of evil are seeking entrance, I would consider it only as a regrettable accident. Even if dear Vicky’s soiled nappies had been soaking inside the bucket ... well, such misadventures happen.”

  Did they indeed? What planet was that on? Donny, Luke and Liam looked at one another in amazement but didn’t presume to query Wendy’s militant instructions. Gerald had retreated to the kitchen where he could be heard ransacking his store cupboards for anything that might make a nutritious meal for a fugitive – rather as he had done on Hawkins’s first evening, Donny recalled.

  Anna was setting up her web cam to cover the front door but Lottie had shut herself in the study to make more phone calls. She asked Donny if he had Mr McMullen’s number. He suggested that she look it up via the sub-aqua club.

  Min huddled against one end of the sofa with a duvet tucked around him. He was shaky, confused and speechless. Donny wondered how long he’d been in that cage. On the news bulletins that they’d watched after the accident it had said that the single survivor had been taken to a secure location where he would be interviewed by police. Donny could imagine only too well what that could have meant.

  Skye had seated herself at the other end of the sofa. She had Vicky on her lap and was playing finger games. Min watched without moving.

  A knock at the front door. A crackle of cap-gun fire from an upper window. Luke and Liam had disinterred their secret cow-boy kits. Would the contents of a nappy bucket follow?

  Sandra the social worker, who had been with them at Great Aunt Ellen’s funeral earlier, held up a piece of white paper with a red cross on it.

  “Humanitarian aid,” she called. “I’m one of tonight’s duty workers and was ordered here by my line manager.”

  “Creepy Tony?”

  “Well ... er ... yes ... But I swear I come in friendship. You have a youngster with you who may be in deep shock. I have bought a full crisis emergency pack and my own sleeping bag. I have had enough of inter-agency initiatives. I have been a social worker for twenty years. I have training and expertise. I am not going to be pushed around any longer by any other service provider. I am here to protect the child. I will not allow anyone else to interfere.”

  “Has Tony agreed?”

  “Er ... yes.”

  “Sandra,” Donny called down to her. “Come clean. Did you threaten him?”

  “We had a full and frank exchange of views. In the course of our discussion I mentioned certain actions that I would feel obliged to take if ... IF DENISE TUNE OR INSPECTOR FLINT WERE ALLOWED TO HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF MY CASES EVER AGAIN!”

  Rev. Wendy flung the front door open. “Come in and join the turning worms.”

  “I also informed him that there were to be no further intrusions tonight under any pretext whatsoever.”

  Whatever she had said to Creepy Tony worked. No-one came. Luke and Liam were most disappointed.

  Anna was a bit miffed too. As she explained to Donny later, she’d been hoping to get some really good footage of the bad’uns being pelted by the kids.

  “Then I was going to post them on Skoo-tube.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Local website for kids. So that all the children who Flint and Toxic have ever intimidated could get a good laugh. Every time Toxic’s been round lately I’ve been setting up the camera in case Luke could get Haw
kins to try picking up her hair. I’m sure that it’s a wig.”

  “Has she been round?” This was news to Donny.

  “Certainly has. I couldn’t guess why but she’s been all chummy with Rev. Wendy. She makes out it’s to do with the Diocesan Mission Lift – which is totally none of her business – then she keeps asking Wendy if she’s Coping and offering her Individual Counselling and the Right of Choice. It’s been driving Wendy completely bonkers. Until today I didn’t get what it was all about. I’ve been unbelievably slow.”

  “It does take a bit of getting used to.”

  “Wendy and Gerald as a mum and dad. I pity their kid.”

  “Oh, I dunno. If it’s going to be a baby Gold Dragon we might find ourselves pitying them!”

  Anna laughed. “We’d best keep in contact, then. And I never thought I’d hear myself say that.”

  “Could you take a photo of this?” Donny asked, pulling out the bag with Flint’s belt in it. “Then I’ll give it to Sandra to keep safe. I found it next to the cage.”

  Anna looked sick. “Cage? That’s foul.”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  Ai Qin arrived just as Lottie had finally finished her phone calls.

  “Is he the boy from fujian province?”

  “I think so. I remembered his mother from my time with Pura-Lilly. Donny’s teacher is out seeking her now. He’s gone to Ipswich, to the containers where we lived.”

  “How does he know who she is?”

  “Because he likes to keep his department open late into the evening. Most people don’t talk to us agency cleaners but he did. We were instructed that we shouldn’t reply but he was persistent. Also Karen was involved when Donny was attacked in the DT room.”

  “Karen?”

  “Sorry. That’s what we called her. I can’t remember her Chinese name. She was the one who released Donny from the cupboard. The Tiger was angry because she let him out too soon. He sent her to the cage-birds for a week. Only brought her back because she owed him so much money. He needed to keep her earning. She told me that she had done it because she had a boy herself in fujian. She thought they would be about the same age. So I took a guess this evening when I saw him.”

  “I hope you’re right. The woman I am looking for is called Chen Xiao Ling.”

  “I think I am. Family resemblance is a wonderful thing.”

  I suppose it is, thought Donny, happening to look at his uncle and his mum as they sat together, playing with Vicky and talking to each other through hands and pictures. And somewhere in the world is a man who looks like me – no, a man who I look like. But he won’t ever know.

  It was always going to feel sad but he could live with it. The anger and the fear had gone. He was his own person. He’d brought the Beckfoot up the river and Great Aunt Ellen had trusted him to be the next owner of Strong Winds. He hadn’t even told Anna yet.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The Return of the Campfire Kettle

  Erewhon Parva Vicarage, Tuesday 10 July 2007

  Min put his head in his mother’s lap and fell asleep on the sofa. He was still mute. The old house settled peacefully around them. The younger children had been persuaded into bed even before Mr McMullen and Karen arrived and it wasn’t long before Rev. Wendy followed them upstairs.

  Ai Qin and Mr McMullen left as soon as they knew that their identifications had been correct. It was past midnight when Defoe and Skye set out through the darkness, walking to the river and Strong Winds.

  “Do you mind if I stay here for the night?” Donny asked them. “I want to be near Min and his mother. We’re going to have to talk to the police about the Beckfoot and I need to ask Sandra for advice.”

  “Mrs Everson’s daughter has already reported the wrecked power-boat. The insurance company will either move it in the morning or buoy it. You winched it well out of the channel and Bill’s fitted an anchor light on the Beckfoot. And in case you’re anxious, Mrs Everson herself says that she can confirm all the movements of the Hispaniola / Pride of Macao. She noticed every time the identity was changed. Mrs Everson’s a light sleeper and she likes to watch the river from her bedroom window. She’ll make a statement as soon as anyone asks.”

  “It’s not that. I mean, thanks – that’s great news. But it’s the Beckfoot herself; she’s a crime scene. I shouldn’t have let Bill go on board. He’ll have left prints everywhere.”

  One of the best things about his uncle was the way he took things without fuss.

  “Then we must call Edward and take his advice. First thing tomorrow. And June Ribiero too. You’ve done so well, Donny. Stay by all means but please, get some sleep.”

  “Only good dreams,” signed Skye.

  Gerald had made a bed in the study for Sandra. Anna and Lottie were in there with their coffee mugs. Anna had her MacBook open.

  “There’s some fruit cake left over from the funeral,” Gerald said wearily. “And plenty of milk. If you want anything else you’ll have to fetch it yourselves. I’m going to bed.”

  “Gold Dragon’s funeral! Was that today?”

  “Technically,” said Anna, “it was yesterday. You need to tell us what you saw. Why you pushed that belt at Sandra. Then we can maybe all go to bed. Some of us have school tomorrow.”

  “Not me,” said Donny. “Whether or not I’m allowed. “That belt belongs to Flint. I’ve seen him wearing it. I gave it to Sandra because it needs to be tested. She’s the only official I trust and it’s got to be done totally properly. That belt was beside Min’s cage. It proves that Flint was there. There’s other stuff on board but they might all be Zhang’s. Except for the women’s things.”

  “Clothes belonging to Toxic?”

  “Don’t think so. I mean I know she’s been on board but she wouldn’t leave stuff like that. Cheap stuff.”

  “I think,” said Lottie, “that the ship was where the Tiger kept his cage-birds.”

  “Oh yeah. There was definitely bird seed.”

  “His cage-birds didn’t all have wings.”

  “Oh.”

  “I never went. It was the worst punishment.”

  “ ... Karen?”

  “May be able to say more. When she is convinced that she and her child are safe.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Sandra heavily. “I promised no more interference. I told you I’ve been a social worker for twenty years. I think this might be the worst case I’ve come across. It’s almost one in the morning. I’m going to have to call the head of children’s services.”

  “Do you need to get her phone number?” Anna pushed the computer across. “I’m already on the council website but you’ll want to access the private area.”

  “Oh, okay,” said Sandra. She sounded surprised. Maybe because they hadn’t argued with her. “I mean, I’ve got it on my mobile somewhere.”

  She was typing her password into the computer.

  “This’ll be much quicker,” said Anna. “Mobile phone reception’s not very good here. Rev. Wendy won’t mind you using the landline.”

  She smiled helpfully and took the laptop back as soon as Sandra had the details she needed.

  “Would you like us to leave the room?”

  Huh?

  “No, of course not.” Sandra seemed preoccupied. “I’m not going to say anything that I wouldn’t want you to hear. I’m only passing on what Donny’s told us. Plus what Lottie said. I have no choice. I’m ringing our service head because it’s so serious – and I simply don’t want to report via Tony.”

  “Quite right.” Anna’s fingers were flying over the keys. Donny’d never seen her when she wasn’t searching for something: checking, scrolling down, making notes, refining her search terms. Why couldn’t she play Runescape or Second Life like everybody else?

  He was exhausted. Hoped Sandra wouldn’t talk for long. He knew it had to be official now.

  Had known it ever since he’d seen how Min was being kept. Sandra seemed to be taking her time, repeating herself. The pers
on the other end must have been asleep. Maybe he could rest his head on his arms for a moment.

  “Donny,” hissed Anna.

  She was shaking him. Why?

  “Do you want to come with us? You don’t have to.”

  His head was pounding. He wasn’t on board Strong Winds.

  “Mum said I had to ask you. We’re going after Toxic but we’re completely cool if you’d rather stay here. You could go to bed even.”

  “Where?”

  “Wherever. I don’t care. You’ve got your old room upstairs or you can carry on kipping in that chair. Like you have been for the past two hours.”

  “Don’t get stressy, I meant where’s Toxic? You said you’re going after her?”

  “If you don’t keep your voice down you’ll wake Sandra too. If you’re coming, come. I’ll tell you in the car. Mum’s there already.”

  “Okay. Long as I can have a pee first.”

  “Boys!”

  Lottie’s Toyota slid stealthily out of the drive. First streaks of morning already in the sky. Donny stuck his head out of the window for a few moments to wake himself up. Then he turned to Anna.

  “Okay,” he said, “where and why?”

  “I got Toxic’s address off the private area of the county council website. The one Sandra logged into. Then, while Sandra was talking, I got loads of other social worker links. And education. Norfolk and Essex as well as Suffolk. The top lady’s coming to see you in the morning, by the way. She’s called Kathryn. Then, when Sandra had dozed off, I did a proper search on Toxic.”

  “And?”

  “It’s all phoney. Nothing goes back more than two or three years. Her CV is just a paper trail and her qualifications ... well, they look impressive but when you check the dates and places, they’re completely fake.”

  “This is in your professional opinion?”

  “Research suggests ...”

  “That Denise Tune’s a fraud and a clever one,” said Lottie. The morning light was getting stronger, the roads were empty. She was driving fast.

  “I had time for a quick snoop into Pura-Lilly as well. Its registered office is in the Bahamas. That’s where her money will be waiting for her.”