A Good Catch

by Fern Britton

  32

  Early spring 2014

  Lifeboat training was always on a Wednesday night and, on this particular evening, the boat-house was crowded.

  The star of the show was, as always, the boat herself. Sitting in the centre of the spotless boat-house, her paintwork gleaming, The Spirit of Trevay sat on the runners that sent her through the doors, down the slipway and into the waiting sea. All around her were railings to keep her fans close, but not close enough. Small boys, star-struck mums and men who could only dream of being one of the élite hung over these railings in wonder.

  Jesse, in his capacity as coxswain, was speaking from the deck of the boat.

  ‘And so, ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure we welcome our three new crew members to The Spirit of Trevay. Would you put your hands together for Miss Katie Farrow! Come up here, Katie.’ A pretty blonde girl in her twenties stepped up and faced the crowd, smiling.

  ‘Give us a smile, Katie.’ In the middle of the crowd, Katie’s mum took a photo of her daughter.

  ‘Muuum,’ said Katie, blushing, before trying to melt back into the throng. Jesse stopped her.

  ‘Oh, no you don’t. You stay right here, young lady. I want all three of my new crew to have a picture with the lot of us.’ Katie obeyed.

  Jesse spoke up again. ‘And ’tis with enormous pride I welcome another youngster. His dad, Mickey, has been the Spirit’s mechanic for as long as I’ve been coxswain, and his dad before him the same, so put your hands together for the third generation of Chandlers to serve on the lifeboat: Hal Chandler.’ Hal loped up to Jesse. With his height and gangly limbs he towered over everyone. From the back of the room, Loveday gave a whoop and a whistle through her teeth, whilst clinging onto Mickey’s arm. Becca and Bea leapt up and down with excitement and chanted Hal’s name, falling into giggles when Loveday shushed them.

  ‘And finally,’ said Jesse, ‘and I don’t know ’ow he got on the crew, but I’d like to welcome my own son, Freddie Behenna.’

  Freddie bowed his head as he made his way to the front and accepted his father’s handshake. Greer, in perfectly tailored navy-blue trousers and an RNLI sweatshirt, smiled tightly but clapped loudly. She had argued with both Jesse and Freddie about joining the crew. Greer desperately wanted Freddie to get good exam results so that he had other options rather than only a life on the boats to look forward to, but because Hal wanted that life, it seemed it was what Freddie wanted too. Greer wondered if perhaps she’d taken her eye off the ball a bit with Freddie. Maybe he’d been spending too much time at the Chandlers’ house, as their ways seemed to be rubbing off on him more and more these days. She felt another flutter of fear in her stomach – working on the trawler fleet was dangerous enough. Why did he have to risk his life on the lifeboat too?

  ‘You don’t stop me from going out and risking my life,’ said Jesse.

  ‘You’re different. You know what you’re getting yourself into. Freddie is our only child. Why put him in danger?’

  But Freddie wanted to do it – and what Freddie wanted, Freddie usually got.

  Loveday pushed her way towards Greer. ‘Well, that’s it. Our precious boys are lifeboatmen.’

  ‘They’re only twenty,’ said Greer, feeling her throat tighten. ‘Boys still, really.’

  ‘But ain’t you proud of them?’

  Greer pushed her hair behind one ear and tried to be pleased. ‘Oh, of course, I’m always proud of them, but … they are so young.’

  ‘They’ll be fine. They’ve got Mick and Jesse and the other lads.’ Loveday could see that Greer was very upset about the whole thing so she said, ‘What you need, Mrs Behenna, is a gin and tonic.’

  Greer managed a laugh. ‘I probably do, but I’m on coffee duty tonight and then there’s the raffle to draw.’ As in all lifeboat stations, the opportunities to raise funds were never overlooked. This evening was special because it was an open evening. Lifeboat groupies and RNLI supporters were encouraged to come into the boat-house to look around, ask questions of the crew and, if they had the lucky raffle ticket, even get the chance of going out on the boat that evening.

  ‘Well, I’ll sell the tickets, you pour the coffee, and we’ll get this show on the road,’ said Loveday.

  *

  A man of maybe sixty was talking very earnestly to Jesse about the merits of the Tamar class of boat as opposed to the Severn class. ‘I see that The Spirit of Trevay is a Tamar class, but is it as manoeuvrable as the Severn? Although it’s a metre longer, it may at first sight appear to be less nimble—’ Jesse interrupted the techie flow. ‘I’m so sorry, but my wife is wanting me.’ He’d never been so grateful to see Greer waving at him.

  He shouldered his way over to the other side of the room, to where Greer was anxiously waiting. ‘Thanks, darling,’ he said when he reached her. ‘That bloke’s a bleddy fanatic.’

  ‘It’s time to make the draw,’ Greer told him. ‘Loveday’s been folding the tickets and putting them in the bucket for the last hour.’

  ‘I hope he doesn’t win the trip tonight,’ said Jesse, rubbing a hand over his tired face. ‘We’m got enough to do without him blethering.’

  ‘Oh, him?’ said Greer, spotting the man making his way towards another cup of free coffee. ‘He’s bought more tickets than anyone else.’

  ‘Shit.’

  Mickey reached them. ‘Loveday’s got the tickets ready for the draw. Who do you want to do it?’

  ‘Get the new kids to do it,’ said Jesse. ‘Wherever they are.’ He scanned the crowd and saw both Hal and Freddie leaning against the crew-room door chatting up Katie. All three of them were dressed in their yellow oilskins and loving it. As Jesse watched, a small boy approached Katie and asked her something. She laughed but took the pen and piece of paper he was holding and signed her name for him. The boy’s mother, giggling and emboldened, then asked the lads if she could have a selfie with them.

  ‘Becca, Bea,’ called Jesse to the twins, who were just passing, ‘go and get them boys and Katie, would you? I need them for the raffle.’

  *

  There was a healthy assortment of raffle prizes on the table, including a box of chocolates, an RNLI T-shirt, supper for two at Antonio’s Italian pizzeria, a bottle of whisky and the star prize of a trip on the boat.

  The final ticket was drawn by Katie, who rummaged extravagantly in the bucket before pulling out, ‘Green ticket number four-three-seven.’

  A woman’s voice yelled loud and clear, ‘Here! Yes.’

  There were many groans of disappointment from everyone else. Not least the man who’d been interrogating Jesse about the boat’s specifications and performance. He screwed his tickets up and put them in his pocket, then moved to position himself in a prime spot to watch the launch.

  The crew were on board in their allotted places. The boat-house doors were open, revealing the slipway and the smoky sea below. Jesse was on the open bridge.

  On Jesse’s command, the pin holding the boat on the slipway was pulled, and she moved swiftly down the rails, nose-first into the water. Jesse pushed the throttle forward and the twin engines drove the boat away from the boat-house and the waving, cheering fans.

  ‘Oooh,’ said the woman who’d won the raffle, ‘I feel like Princess Diana on the water ride at Alton Towers!’

  *

  ‘Cheers, lads.’ Jesse handed out the pints of Skinner’s to Mickey, Hal and Freddie. ‘You done a good job tonight. I don’t want you missing any training nights, because we don’t know when the real shout will come. I want you ready. It may be tonight. It may be tomorrow or next week. But I want to know that you lads are ready.’ He took a satisfying mouthful of beer and wiped his lips. ‘By the way, I don’t want you thinking that just ’cos Katie’s a girl she’s a walkover. She’s had as much experience at sea as you boys. She’s sailed the Atlantic single-handed – you’ve got to be pretty bleddy tough to do that.’

  ‘She’s nice,’ said Freddie.

  ‘A bit posh,’ said
Hal.

  ‘You’re punching above your weight with her, boys, so don’t even think about it,’ laughed Mickey. ‘She’d have you for breakfast.’

  ‘How old is she?’ asked Freddie.

  ‘Too old for you, son,’ said Jesse. ‘Besides, you lads need to spread your wild oats.’

  ‘Ha, says you who got married at twenty-one,’ joked Freddie.

  ‘Oh, your uncle Mickey and I had our moments, didn’t we, Mick?’ said Jesse.

  ‘One or two,’ nodded Mickey. ‘But I knew Loveday was always the one for me.’

  ‘Oh, Dad.’ Hal looked embarrassed. ‘I don’t want to hear.’

  Freddie looked at Jesse. ‘And was Mum always the only one for you? From school?’

  Jesse stuck his chin out and scratched the stubble there. ‘You could say that.’

  ‘Granddad Behenna always says he knew he had to get you two together to ensure the future of the company. He said it was like two royal families arranging the marriage of a princess and a prince.’

  ‘Don’t pay too much attention to what your granddad says.’

  ‘And he says that Granddad Clovelly was the man who made it all happen.’

  Jesse frowned and picked up a beer mat, flipping it over and catching it. Mickey steered the conversation round. ‘I was his best man on the day he married your mum, Freddie. And let me tell you, he was as hungover as a highwayman. I could barely get him dressed.’ A memory slid into his mind. ‘It was Grant who got you drunk, wasn’t it?’

  Jesse shook his head. ‘No. It was me. I went up to the sheds, because I didn’t want to go home. I needed to think. ’Tis a big thing getting married. I found my dad’s whisky in his desk up at the sheds and …’ He stopped talking. In the silence the others waited for him to continue. Then he picked up his beer glass and downed the remains. ‘… And I drank it,’ he finished abruptly.

  ‘But I thought Grant said he was with you?’ Mickey persisted.

  Jesse thought for a moment and said, ‘Maybe he was. I was so pissed I can’t remember.’ He stood up. ‘Now then, who’d like another?’

  *

  By the time the pool table came free, the four men were more than merry.

  ‘Right, you lads,’ said Jesse, squinting to focus on getting the coins in the slot. ‘You whippersnappers against we old Turks. Yes?’

  ‘Fine by us,’ said Freddie, passing a cue to Hal and chalking his own. ‘What we playing for?’

  ‘Hmm. Let me think,’ said Jesse. ‘What do you think, Mick?’

  ‘Twenty quid?’ ventured Mickey, balancing his cue between his legs as he attempted to tuck his shirt into his jeans.

  ‘Twenty?’ shrugged Freddie. ‘That’s nothing. It’s got to be something really worth playing for.’

  ‘Right. If that’s what you want,’ slurred Jesse, waggling his forefinger. ‘How about this. You’re both twenty-one later this year, yes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, ’ow about, if you win, I’ll buy you a car each for your birthday. But if we win, I don’t.’

  ‘Bleddy hell,’ blurted Hal.

  ‘We’ll hold you to that,’ said Freddie. ‘Shake on it?’

  They shook.

  Mickey took Jesse to one side while the boys set the balls up on the table. ‘You are joking, aren’t you?’

  ‘No. But,’ Jesse tapped the side of his nose, ‘they’m useless at pool and you and I were bleddy good.’

  ‘That’s a long time ago.’

  ‘It’s like riding a bike. You and I will pull out the old tricks and they won’t know what’s hit ’em.’

  It didn’t take more than seventeen minutes. Hal lined up the black eight ball and hit it cleanly into the pocket.

  Jesse chucked his cue onto the baize but he was impressed. ‘How the hell did you learn to play like that? You’re almost as good as I was at your age. Well. A bet’s a bet. You won fair and square.’ Jesse walked around the table and clapped Hal on the back.

  ‘Nice one, Dad!’ The boys were jubilant. ‘Can we choose our own cars?’

  ‘Never on your life.’

  Mickey looked worried. ‘Boys, don’t hold him to it. This was a bit of fun.’

  ‘No it weren’t,’ stated Jesse firmly. ‘My word is my bond, and if I can’t treat my son and godson, what kind of a man am I?’

  ‘Just think it over in the morning,’ said Mickey. ‘I don’t want you getting the boys’ hopes up.’

  Jesse rounded on Mickey. ‘I am buying my boys cars for their birthday and that’s that.’

  ‘Take it easy, Jesse,’ said Mickey, frowning. ‘You’re perfectly entitled to do what you like for your boy – but me and Loveday will decide what’s right for our boy.’

  Jesse regarded Mickey. ‘My mind’s made up, and nothing is going to stop me.’

  33

  Loveday pushed the door of the office shut with her foot as she dialled Greer’s mobile phone number. She’d tried her at Tide House but the answerphone had kicked in and she hadn’t dared to leave a message in case Jesse picked it up.

  Mickey had come home late last night, annoyed at Jesse’s high-handed idea to give Hal and Freddie a car each for their twenty-first birthdays.

  ‘It was the way ’e said it. “I’m buying cars for my boys’ birthdays and you’re not stopping me”. As if we can’t afford a car for our own son.’

  Loveday had been in bed reading when Mickey had come upstairs and broken this news. She didn’t like the sound of it. My boys? What the hell did Jesse mean by that? She put her book aside and wriggled upright. ‘Well, he is Hal’s godfather and it’s very generous but … was he pissed?’

  ‘A bit. But that’s not the point. It was the way he said it. As if I don’t have any say. I’m Freddie’s godfather but I can’t afford to buy him an expensive present. And what will he get him for a wedding present? A bleddy house?’

  As Mickey spoke, he became more and more agitated. He paced the bedroom carpet, sat on the edge of the bed, then sprang up again and paced the carpet once more.

  Loveday watched him, her mind trying to second-guess what Jesse was doing.

  ‘Did he say anything else?’ she asked.

  Mickey stopped pacing and sat down on the bed again. ‘I know he’s the one with all the money now; he’s the boss and all that, whereas I’m just an employee, but I thought he knew us better than this. He knows I’ve always paid my way, but this time it’s like he’s trying to get one up on me.’

  Loveday got out of bed and took her dressing gown from the hook on the door. ‘Want a cup of tea?’

  Mickey nodded and took her hand as she opened the door to the landing. ‘Thanks, darlin’. Am I overreacting?’

  ‘Let’s talk about it.’

  Dowstairs, Hal was lolling on the sofa watching a police drama on the television, his long legs spilling over one arm. ‘Hey, Mum. Thought you’d be asleep. We had a great night. Fred and I absolutely slaughtered Dad and Uncle Jesse at pool. Did Dad tell you what Uncle Jesse bet us if we beat him?’

  ‘Ah. It was a bet.’ Loveday relaxed. A beer-fuelled bet tonight wouldn’t be worth the breath it was made with once Jesse sobered up tomorrow and, besides, Mickey and Hal had downed a fair few too by the looks of it. ‘I wouldn’t get too excited.’ She patted Hal’s size 12 feet as she went past.

  ‘No, he meant it,’ said Hal, grinning with excitement.

  ‘Well, let’s just wait and see. I’m not sure your dad and I would be comfortable about him giving you a car, anyway.’

  Mickey chipped in, ‘Your mum’s right.’

  Hal reached for the remote control and switched the television off. He stood up and stretched. ‘Well, you two can think what you like, but Uncle Jesse has always been decent to me. Treated me the same way he treats Freddie, so why shouldn’t I get a car out of him?’

  ‘That’s enough,’ said Mickey. He took a step towards Hal and jabbed a pointed finger at him. ‘Jesse is a friend, not family. If anyone’s going to buy you a car, it’ll be you
r mum and me.’

  ‘Really?’ Hal’s face lit up. ‘For my twenty-first?’

  Loveday stepped in before Mickey could reply. ‘Darlin’, this all needs a bit of thinking about. Now go up to bed and don’t wake the girls. They’m got their exams in the morning. We’ll talk about this when we’re all less tired.’

  Loveday wondered about what was happening with Jesse. What with that awkward conversation they’d had at the office, plus the drinking … what would Greer be making of it all? Loveday tried to crush the creeping sense of anxiety, but it nagged away at her as she returned to bed and tried to get off to sleep.

  *

  In the morning, Loveday knew she had to speak to Greer. It took a few moments to connect to Greer’s mobile, and four or five rings before she picked up.

  ‘Greer, it’s Loveday.’

  ‘Morning, Loveday. How are you?’

  ‘Fine. I wanted to talk to you about something.’

  ‘Sorry, you’re breaking up. I’m in the lanes on my way to Mevagissey. There’s a woman there with the most wonderful antiques. She has a Victorian claw-footed bath, needs restoring and re-enamelling but that’s OK, it means it’ll be a bargain, and a fabulous, huge oak dresser. She reckons it’s seventeenth century, but I need to look at it to be sure—’

  Loveday broke into her chatter. ‘Can you hear me now?’ she asked.

  ‘Sort of, but you’re coming and going. Can I ring you back when I’m on my way home later? Is it anything important?’

  Loveday took a deep breath and told her. ‘Jesse wants to buy Hal a car.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘For his birthday.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m only getting every other word. I’ll call you later.’

  *

  It was just before lunch when the phone on Loveday’s desk went.

  ‘Hello, Loveday Chandler.’

  ‘Darling, it’s me, Greer. The dresser was a let-down. Early nineteen hundreds and pine, not oak. The bath has a crack through the middle and will leak through an entire house. Total rubbish, and I told her so. Anyway, the upshot is that I’m ten minutes away from Trevay. Shall I swing by for a coffee and you can talk to me about this car business?’