by Clare Revell
Lou turned and gave Staci a hug. “It’s OK. You don’t need to explain. I’m not just your friend, I think of you as a sister, and I’ll always be here for you. Want to take Deefer’s leash for a while?”
“Sure.” Staci took the lead and ran on ahead.
As soon as she had gone out of earshot, Jim gazed at Lou. “I’m worried they’ll put us into care.”
“Where’d that come from? Mum said you could stay with us.”
“Only while Mum and Dad were on the mission field and only because Aunt Edith refused to have us. Your flat’s not really big enough. I can’t stay in the dining room forever. And our house got sold.”
“It did? I thought it was being rented out, the same as usual.”
“No. Dad sold it. Said it was silly keeping it, and we’d buy something new when they came back to England permanently. Besides, between you and me, the rent they got for it didn’t cover the mortgage payment.”
“Ah. Well, that makes sense, then.”
“I have some money saved, but nowhere near enough for a house.”
“I’m sure Mum won’t kick you out. You and Staci are all the family we have left—” She broke off, her cheeks burning. “I mean…Di is Mum’s best friend. They’re as good as sisters. Mum promised to take care of you.”
“Until they came home. Not forever.”
“She won’t kick you out,” Lou said firmly. “I won’t let her.”
At the other side of the bridge was the boat yard. Moored to one side were several boats with a ‘For Hire’ sign next to them. On the other side were the privately owned boats in a small marina owned by the same chap who owned the yard.
As Jim took in the sight, Lou recognized that seafarer’s look in his eyes. He loved boats and for the last two years had had a summer job in the boat yard. He was hoping to join the navy. He’d taken the entrance exam and physical for naval college a couple of weeks before the earthquake and was waiting to hear. He’d done his A-levels a year early and was enjoying his gap year, working in the boat yard whenever they needed him.
He stared at the boats bobbing up and down on the water. “Shame we can’t just live on a boat.”
Staci walked up with Deefer and looked at him. “Why would we want to do that? We’re staying with Nichola. But can we go and look at Dad’s boat? I’ve put Deefer’s lead back on so he won’t run away and get in trouble.”
“Sure. I told Matt that I’d say hi next time I was over this way.” As Jim led the way, several people called out to him in greeting.
A big burly chap with a long black ponytail came over and slapped him on the back. “Hi, Jim. Sorry to hear about your parents. Is there any more news?”
“No. They called off the search.”
“Oh, no. Oh, I’m sorry, mate.”
“Thanks. Matt, this is my sister Staci, our friend, Lou, and her dog Deefer. This is Matt Woodhouse, the boss here.”
Matt smiled. “Nice to meet you at last. Jim talks about you both all the time. I’m afraid I don‘t have any work this week if that’s what you were after, mate.”
“Not this time, but would you mind if we look over Dad’s boat?”
“Of course not. I’ll get the keys. See you over there.” Matt headed back to the office.
“It has keys?” Lou raised an eyebrow. She followed Jim as he led them to the private docks.
Jim grinned and turned to look at her, rolling his eyes as only he could.
If only he knew how that affected her. Anyone else did it, and she’d deck them. Jim on the other hand…
“Of course she has keys,” he said. “Otherwise anyone could just steal her.”
“Her? And I suppose she has a name?”
“Avon,” Jim replied. “She’s a beauty.” He led them over the gangplank onto the deck.
Matt joined them and looked at Staci. “Your brother told you the three rules to boating, right? One, keep the boat on the water. Two, keep the water out of the boat. Three, stay in the boat.”
Lou giggled.
Matt glanced at her. “I’m perfectly serious. You wouldn’t believe some of the idiots who hire the boats.” He gave Jim the keys. “Just bring them back to the office when you’re done.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Lou followed Jim around the boat as he gave her a guided tour.
It was bigger than she thought.
“So, Avon is forty feet long with a fully enclosed bridge, unusual for a small boat,” he began.
Small? She let Jim ramble on and followed him down a steep flight of steps from the bridge directly below to a reasonably big, serviceable galley, with stove, fridge-freezer, pull-up table, ample storage space and a window looking over the front of the boat.
Lou opened the cupboards and found cups, plates, pots, and pans. Drawers contained knives, forks, and spoons.
“That door on the left goes out onto deck. Down those steps are two double cabins and the head.”
“Head?”
“It’s what you call a bathroom on a boat.” He grinned. “Don’t you know anything?”
She poked her tongue out at him, following him down more steep stairs.
She peeked into one of the cabins. A round window let in the sunshine. There was a bed on each wall with just enough room between them to walk. The cabins had separate entrances but also had a connecting door.
She burst out laughing at the fact the bathroom had a frosted window. “Who’s gonna look in when you’re at sea?”
Jim shook his head at her. “Not at sea now, though, are we? The shower runs off the five-gallon fresh water tank. This also supplies the sink in the galley. The cistern runs off the five-gallon grey water tank.”
“I see.” She dodged Deefer, who ran past her, settling on one of the bunks. “Guess that one’s mine, then.”
Back on the bridge, Jim explained all the instruments which included the two small engines, radio/transmitter, the compass, the anchor and a fish finder navigational screen. The running lights, mast light, and VHF antenna lights had to be on during the hours of darkness. Unusual for a cabin cruiser, she had a mast with two sails. The main sail was a one-hundred-fifty-foot genoa, with a one-hundred-ten foot headsail and storm jib as well.
A door on the right of the bridge led out onto a small platform from which there was a ladder down to the deck. The deck, which ran all around the boat, had been well cared for as had the bow pulpit, which shone in the sunlight.
Lou followed Staci back to the cabins and stretched on the made up bunks. “Lovely and comfy,” Lou said. “There’s even space underneath them.” She put her hands under her head. “You know I wouldn’t mind living on a boat. Maybe I should apply to join the navy, too.”
“It’s fun,” Staci said. “We take the boat on holiday sometimes.”
“Must be nice, being rocked to sleep by the sea.”
Jim laughed from the doorway. “Comfy are we? Time we were going, it’s nearly five. We don’t want to keep Nichola waiting.”
Lou stood and pulled Staci to her feet.
Together the three of them climbed to the galley and onto the deck.
~*~
Jim locked Avon up carefully, while an idea formed in his mind. He headed to the office to return the keys.
“Thank you for letting us on her, Matt.”
“Anytime,” he said and shook Jim’s hand. “She’s your boat now, I guess.”
“Dad’s not dead,” Jim said sharply. “He and Mum are missing, that’s all. I’ll be by next week.”
“See you then.”
He headed outside to find the girls. “Come on, I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Lou told him. “Must be a man thing, because I never am.”
“Will we live with you now, Lou? I don’t want to be sent away to live with Aunt Edith,” Staci said as they crossed the park. “She doesn’t like me.”
“Don’t see why we would be. Mum and Dad will be back,” Jim said.
“I know that, b
ut if I can’t stay here until they do, I will run away.” Staci huffed.
Jim stopped. His sister’s face was set and determined.
What if the social services became involved, what if they had no choice but to live with Aunt Edith or go into care? Once he was eighteen, in a few short months, he’d be thrown out. But they’d never let him care for Staci…besides, he’d be in the navy and who knows where.
“I’m not changing my mind. I will go where no one can find me.”
“You can’t live on your own,” Jim told her. “You’re not old enough.”
“I can. I’ll go live on the boat. Avon is a second home anyway.”
“You’re not old enough go on your own,” he repeated.
“And if you think I’d let you go off without me, you have another think coming. We’ll be the three musketeers, with Deefer being the fourth.” Lou added and pulled Staci into a hug. She looked at Jim. “Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Jim said. “Right now, we’d better hurry home. My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.”
Over dinner, Jim kept running through the same idea in his head, over and over. He had to do something. Could he search for his parents himself? If he did, where would he start? And what would happen to Staci if he did?
“Are you finished with that plate? It’s not going to clean itself.” Lou held out her hand.
“Are you feeling all right?” Jim asked, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not like you to volunteer for anything, never mind the dishes.”
“I’m fine,” Lou snapped. “Mum cooked, so I don’t see why she should do the dishes.”
“That’s very kind,” Nichola said. “It will be nice not to have to do them.”
“We’ll help, Lou,” Staci said.
“Even make the tea,” Jim added.
“Anyone would think you lot were after something.” Nichola laughed as she left the room.
Lou quickly cleared the table, shut the kitchen door and began to wash up. It didn’t take long with Lou washing, Staci wiping, and Jim putting away and making a pot of tea.
He took a mug through to find Nichola engrossed in a TV game show. “We’re going to play monopoly in the dining room,” he said.
“Don’t keep Staci up too late.”
“We won’t.” Jim removed the game from the sideboard and took it through to the clean table. He set the board up and then called to the girls.
Staci carried her tea and another he assumed was his. Lou brought her tea and the biscuits. She pushed the door shut with her knee and sat down.
Jim picked up the dice. “I start.”
“Why?” Staci crossed her arms and frowned.
“Because, kiddo, I’m the eldest and the only male in the room.”
“Don’t argue, Stace,” Lou said. “Just remember that men only have two faults.”
“Oh yeah? And what might they be?” Jim asked.
“Everything they say and everything they do.” Lou grinned at him.
“At least it’s only two. Not like women.” Jim poked his tongue out at her. He rolled the dice. “Usual rules apply,” he said moving his counter. That, of course, meant his own rules.
Lou was winning until she landed on his property with a hotel and four houses. Although the girls insisted it was either four houses or a hotel he never played it that way. It was far more fun this way.
“That’s three thousand, eight hundred quid, please,” he told her gleefully and held out a hand.
“Some landlords need to be hauled before the European Court of human rights,” Lou muttered as she handed over all her money.
Jim laughed and then rubbed his hands in glee as Staci threw the dice and landed on the same square.
Nichola came in with three cups of cocoa as he was raking in his spoils. “Have you any idea what time it is?” she asked. “It’s nine forty five. Drink this, then bed.”
Jim lay in bed a bit later, his mind still mulling over the embryo of his plan. Again, in the wee hours of dawn, he was woken by Staci crying. The plan grew a little more.
He bolted into the girls’ room. He had to do something. “Shhhh. It’s OK,” he said, climbing onto the bed. He put his arms around her as she clung to him and sobbed. Jim rocked her, quietly talking until she calmed and fell asleep in his arms.
“Stay there,” Lou said. “She needs you tonight.” She got out of bed. “Here, have my duvet. I’ll go sleep in the dining room. That way we’re not breaking the rule of sleeping in the same room.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Lou nodded. “Yeah.” She dumped the duvet on top of him. “But if you’re expecting me to tuck you in, forget it. You’re big enough and ugly enough to do that yourself.”
2
Sunday began with a pouring rain. As usual, they went to church and had roast for dinner.
Once again, Lou offered to do the dishes, which was followed by another game of, as the girls termed it, “Cheats.”
This time they got no further than dealing the cards and setting up the board.
Jim opened the notebook to a clean page and deftly divided the page up into sections. “Right, just for something to do. Let’s say I decided to take the boat out for the weekend. What would I need?”
“Food,” Staci answered at once. “And lots of it because you’re always hungry. And plenty of fizzy drink and juice, too.”
“Sleeping bags and blankets,” Lou said.
“Woof,” Deefer barked eager to add his two pennyworth to the conversation.
“That’s dog food and his bed,” Staci translated.
“Who said he’s coming on my weekend trip?”
Deefer put a paw over his nose and dropped his ears.
“OK, fine. Dog food and Deefer’s bed.” Jim added that to the list. “Torches and batteries,” he said.
“Why?” Lou asked.
“So I can see in the dark. Besides they might be useful.”
“In that case,” Lou said grinning wickedly, “you’d better add kettle, saucepan, cups, plates, knives, forks, spoons, tin opener...”
“Hold on, I can’t write that fast.”
Lou leaned over to peer at the page. “You’re not writing all that are you?”
“Nope, it’s already on the boat.” He winked at her. “Anyone have any sensible suggestions?”
“Your mobile phone and charger, because with you and the dog around, anything might happen.”
He pulled a face at Lou. “That’s not conducive to friendship, but I’ll add it regardless. Anything else?”
By the time the list was finished, it contained very silly suggestions. Including Lou’s teddy, his brain, and the kitchen sink.
That night, Jim sat up with the notepad and made a real list of things that he needed to sort out tomorrow, assuming he worked out the logistics of going to find his parents. He had his passport; well Nichola did, along with Staci’s, so leaving the country wouldn’t be a problem. He was fairly certain he could handle the boat alone. Dad had shown him the ropes, and he’d helped plenty of times.
OK, the Norfolk broads and a canal were a far cry from the Atlantic Ocean, but it was all water, right? So long as he planned it properly, he’d be fine. He made a note to check the lifebelts and dingy.
He hadn’t even realized he’d dozed off, until he jerked awake to the sound of crying coming from Lou’s room. He padded through to comfort Staci and she clung to him, not really awake. “It’s OK, kiddo. I get nightmares too.”
“Don’t leave me, too, Jim. I can’t do this on my own.”
“I won’t leave you, Stace. I’ll be here as long as you need me.”
Lou tossed him her duvet. “Maybe we should just change rooms. You sleep in here more often than you do in your own room,” she commented wryly as she slipped to the dining room.
He curled up next to Staci. How could he leave her behind? Which was more important? His sister or the fact his parents were lost and no one seemed to care.
God, I sure hope
You have a plan behind all this, because I sure can’t see it.
~*~
Lou went back to her room in the early morning sunshine to find Jim still asleep with Staci. She threw her pillow at him. “Wake up sleepyhead. Are you sure you don’t want to move in here?”
“No ta,” Jim replied. “Staci snores.”
“Thanks a bunch.” Staci huffed. She rose and opened the curtains. “Stopped raining,” she said. “Bags I first in the bathroom.”
“Bags I? No one says ‘bags I’ anymore,” Lou said. “You’ve read too many old-fashioned books.”
“That’s as may be,” Staci said running across the room. “But I am still getting in there first.”
Jim stood. “And I should get out of here before Nichola gets up.”
Lou studied him. “Are you OK?”
“Yeah. Staci’s nightmares are contagious.”
“If you want to talk, I’m here, and I don’t charge too much.”
“Thanks,” Jim smiled. “I’d better go and get dressed. You too. You need to leave in half an hour. School starts again today, remember?”
“Oh joy.” Lou said, opening the wardrobe and getting out her clean uniform. “Double maths first thing on a Monday morning. Just what I need.”
“What have you got planned today?” Mum asked Jim over breakfast.
“I have to go in to town. I’m meeting a mate for lunch. Then I thought I’d come back here and take Deefer for a long walk.”
“Staci has a doctor’s appointment before she goes into school this morning, so we can drop you off in town if you want.” Mum sipped her tea and glanced at the clock.
“Thank you, but I’m going via the boat yard in case they have any work. Why’s she seeing the doctor?”
Lou looked at him and opened her mouth to say something, then changed her mind. He obviously didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing, as she knew full well the boat yard didn’t have any work for him. Matt had said so on when they stopped by on Saturday.
“I’m out of itchy stuff,” Staci said. “Ran out yesterday.”
“Eczema cream,” Lou translated. “I have double maths, double geography, yucky lunch in the canteen, PE, French, and finally double biology. Whoever did the timetable needs shooting for scheduling maths at ten past nine and PE straight after lunch.” She sighed, stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. “We who are about to die, salute you.”
