by Clare Revell
“Strength and honor,” Jim replied.
Lou kissed her mum, poked her tongue out at Jim and headed out the door.
~*~
Once Staci and Nichola had left, Jim opened the letter from the navy that had arrived for him that morning. He read it through twice, trying to take the news as he imagined a man should, that he’d failed the entrance exam. It wasn’t fair. He’d worked so hard, studied so much, and all for nothing.
He tore the letter up and binned it. No one would know. If he did go and find his parents, he’d need a reason to leave and that would be as good as any.
Jim headed into town. He queued up in the bank and transferred all of his savings over to his card cash account. He double checked his card was valid aboard and wouldn’t be stopped if he used it in the USA or any other country over the next few months.
As he walked slowly down the river to the boat yard, the embryo idea grew into a fledgling plan.
Matt came out of the office to greet Jim. “Hello. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“I have a favor to ask. Can you run over Avon with me if you have time? Remind me how the sails and so on work.”
“Sure. Are you thinking of taking her out?”
“Maybe for the weekend, not sure yet.”
Matt nodded. He and Jim spent an hour on board going over her from bow to stern, checking the pumps, water tanks, and how to maintain the engines.
Jim thought carefully. “What is the longest journey you’ve ever done in a boat this size?”
Matt grinned. “A few mates and I once sailed to New York. We even renamed the boat Titanic Two for the duration. Not that we saw any icebergs.”
“Across the Atlantic? Was it difficult?”
“Nah. You file a shipping plan, a bit like a flight plan, and then the bigger ships know to look out for you.”
Jim followed Matt out onto the deck. “How long did it take?”
“Well, she’s not a cruise liner. That only takes a few days depending on how fast they go and where they stop. We did it in six weeks. Mind you, I did have a crew of four so we sailed continuously. Sailing single-handed could take eight weeks I suppose.”
“Is it safe to drop anchor in the Atlantic?”
Matt laughed. “Unless you have a three-mile anchor it would never reach the ocean floor. That’s what the autopilot is for.”
Jim glanced up at the bridge. Avon was his. OK, she wasn’t a naval ship, but she was his, and he was her captain.
“So what are your plans?” Matt asked.
“That depends on what happens in the next few days,” Jim said. “Matt, I really need to talk to someone. Have you got time?”
“Sure. Let’s go have lunch and talk then. I assume you still want to berth Avon here for the time being.”
Jim nodded. “If that’s OK. I’ll pay.”
Matt shook his head. “I don’t need to charge you, mate. Your Dad paid a year’s berth in advance. Come on, lunch.”
Over lunch, Jim explained to Matt about his concerns over the fact no one was looking for his parents and about Staci’s nightmares. Social services had called once, now he worried that he and Staci would be put into care if his parents were declared dead. Never mind Staci’s desire to run away, rather than be split up.
“We’d live on it here if need be, although that would be the first place social services would look.”
“You can’t do that. Running away doesn’t solve anything.”
“Maybe not. That’s another big favor I need to ask, mate. If I do go and search for Mum and Dad, I’ll need as much of a head start as possible. So I’d need to leave during the night. It’s not like I’d be sailing without filing the papers or taking my passport.”
“The marina is closed at night. So’s the boat yard. Nothing in or out, I’m afraid.”
Jim’s heart sank. Then he shrugged. So he needed to refine the plan. He could do that.
“Well, I guess that’s that then.”
~*~
Jim washed up the dinner dishes, trying to avoid Lou.
She’d been like a bear with a sore head ever since she’d gotten in from school and it was a fair guess the letter she’d hidden in the tea towel drawer had something to do with it.
Lou finished wiping up. “School stinks.”
“Louisa Benson.”
“Sorry, Mum. But it does.”
“Why today more than usual?”
“Just a bad day.” She looked at Jim with a bright smile. “Fancy a game in the other room?” she asked hopefully.
Jim nodded. “Sure. What about a different game for a change?”
In the dining room, Staci deftly dealt the cards and they sorted their hands out. “We have to add this to the list of stuff to keep on the boat.”
Jim picked up a card and promptly laid down his hand.
“Not if he’s going to do that all the time.” Lou said. She picked up and threw it away. “Skip Jim.”
“Thanks. Didn’t want to play anyway.”
“Just as well.” Staci laid down the first hand and added to Jim’s.
Lou sighed. “That’s not fair.” She picked up and without stopping to think, immediately threw the card away.
Staci grabbed it and laid it down on Jim’s pile. “Out.” she said, throwing away her last card.
Lou groaned and counted her cards. “Seventy-five.”
Jim put the cards down and looked at the girls. “I was thinking I might go and look for Mum and Dad.”
“Are you serious?” Lou whispered. “It’s the other side of the world. How would you get there? They’d never let you fly, even if you could afford the plane ticket.”
“Sail my boat,” he said. “I need to sort out a route, but it’s doable. I can’t just leave them out there somewhere. They’re still alive, I know it.”
Staci’s face fell. “But you can’t leave me behind.”
Lou looked at her and Jim. “Or me. Take us with you. I don’t want to stay here and let you have all the fun without me. Besides it’ll be a lot easier to find them with more of us looking.”
“Right. Only if the dog comes,” Jim joked. There was no way he was taking the girls with him. At the back of Jim’s mind was the phone conversation he’d overheard between Nichola and his aunt.
From the sounds of it, Aunt Edith was interfering. She hadn’t approved of Mum marrying Dad, never mind their choice of profession. She hated the fact they were missionaries and had, to all intents and purposes, cut them off. But now it sounded as though she wanted to have a say in what happened to them. And as their closest relative, the last thing he wanted was to be shipped off to live with her.
Besides, the longer he delayed, the more danger his parents would be in. The thought of his parents lost and forgotten filled him with so many different emotions. He flipped from distraught to angry to bitter. Angry at God for letting this happen and angry at the rescue teams for just giving up. Then grief flooded him at the prospect of maybe never seeing them again.
He needed to come up with a solid plan, some way of getting out of the boat yard and then the country undetected. The problem was he had no idea what to do. He looked at his sister and saw the pleading look in her eyes. First, he had to make sure she’d be taken care of. He’d only be gone a few months, then he and his parents would be back and everything would be fine.
~*~
Tuesday was wet, again. Lou went off to school under protest and in disgrace as her mother had discovered the detention letter. It had resulted in a shouting match and Lou being grounded for the week, which meant she would miss her dance class after school that afternoon and wouldn‘t be allowed to walk the dog.
When Lou and Staci came in from school, Lou was relieved to find her mother not back from work yet. She slung her bag in the corner of the bedroom, flipped off her shoes and changed out of her uniform, leaving it lying on the floor. She flopped into a chair in the lounge where Jim and Staci were.
“How was school?”
Jim replied.
“Don’t ask.” Lou snapped, in a worse mood than the one she had gone out in.
Staci looked at her. “Well, don’t take it out on us.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes you are. Just because you got grounded, plus a week’s detention. What did you do anyway? You’d only been back a day.”
Lou huffed. “You don’t want to know. Anyway I‘m entitled to be grumpy. I‘ve got a headache.”
“I’ve rewritten Jim’s list,” Staci said, holding up Jim’s notepad. The whole page was covered in neat writing.
“It’s not fair,” Lou complained. “I’m two years older than you and even I can’t read my writing.”
“Well maybe if you spent more time working and less time mucking about,” Staci began.
Jim frowned. “Give it a rest. Shake hands and either agree to be friends or to hate each other until dinner. I don’t care which, just so long as it stops the fighting.”
The girls did as he asked.
“Thank you.”
The front door opened and closed.
Nichola came in, her coat still on. “Lou, come and help me with dinner.”
Lou groaned. “Do I have to?”
“Yes, you do, young lady. Every night this week.”
Lou slowly got to her feet. “Can’t I finish the game first?”
“No. Now.” Nichola left the room.
Lou slowly stood. She’d only be in more trouble if she argued. Maybe she should leave with Jim. Maybe they all should.
3
After dinner, Jim put the atlas on the table and held it open with four ornaments. The time for plotting was over. Time was running out and he needed to focus and make a solid plan.
“The only problem with this,” Lou said, “is that England is in the crease.”
“I know where we are though,” Staci told her. “Where are the Philippines?”
“Your parents live there and you don’t know where it is?”
“I don’t like geography. Besides, it’s boring stuff like roads and traffic pollution.”
“Don’t start again, please.” Jim pointed to the page. “Right there. In the Pacific. Just to the right of Australia.”
Staci looked worried. “Isn’t it dangerous going all the way round the bottom of America, Jim?”
“I’ll go through the Panama Canal,” he said and showed her. “Start off going through the Windward Pass, stop in Jamaica to refuel and stock up again. Then, across the Caribbean Sea, through the Panama Canal, and into the Pacific.”
“That’s a long way to go on your own,” Lou said, with that irritating ‘I’m right and you’re wrong’ tone in her voice. “You should take Staci and me with you.”
“It’ll be easy,” Jim said, more confidently than he felt. “I’ll need to make several stops to stock up. Maybe stop in Cornwall just before I start the Atlantic crossing.”
He had no intentions of taking either of the girls with him. What he was planning was far too dangerous for either of them.
Nichola stuck her head round the door. “Lou, bedtime.”
“But Mummmm...”
“Don’t you ‘but Mum’ me. You know what being grounded entails. Bed.”
Lou stood up and sighed. “Night.” She flounced out of the room and into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Staci looked uncomfortably at each him.
Nichola took a deep breath. “I need to talk to both of you.” She sat down and looked at them. “Your Aunt Edith rang last night. She’s not happy with you staying here anymore and insists on Staci going back to boarding school. She said it would improve your grades.”
The color drained from his sister’s face and she clung to his hand tightly. ”I can try harder,” she whispered. “Just don’t like the teachers here.”
“She’s already spoken to the head teacher and arranged for you to go back. She’s paid for the rest of this term and for the whole of next year. I’m to drive you up there on Sunday evening.”
“Don’t you like having me here?” she asked.
Nichola crouched down next to her and put her arm round her. “Oh, sweetheart. Of course I do. But with your parents missing, social services has stepped in and involved your aunt. Edith thinks it’s the best thing for you right now, to be back with your friends in a school you enjoy going to.” Nichola sighed and raked at tears in her eyes. “I tried arguing with her, but she insisted. You can come back every other weekend and all the holidays. If I don’t send you back there, she’ll take you away completely.”
Staci looked down.
That was Nichola’s way of keeping them in her life. She had no claim to them whatsoever.
Jim kept his face as expressionless as possible. “Actually that would be a good time for me to move into Matt’s. We’ve been talking about it for a while. Assuming you don’t mind me staying the weekends that Staci’s here.”
“Of course not. You’re always welcome, you know that.”
“Thank you. Is it all right if I use the Internet, please? There was a website I wanted to show Staci.”
“Sure. It’s all yours. Use the printer if you like, as well.” She sniffled a little more. “I really don’t want either of you to go.”
“It’ll be OK,” he whispered. “We still have the holidays here and weekends.”
Jim took Staci’s hand and led her to dining room. He loaded the live feed of a container ship traversing the Panama Canal, but not even that garnished a smile.
Jim clicked a bit further down the page and showed Staci how the lock system worked. The canal, crossing land as it did, required two locks, one at each end. The first at Colon City on the Atlantic side was a series of three, which raised the boats twenty-six meters above sea level into Gatan Lake. At the other end, Balboa Point, there was another set of three, which lowered the boats into the Pacific Ocean.
“I have to show Lou. Can you save the page?” Her voice was barely a whisper, and she looked haunted and heartbroken.
Jim smiled at her. “That would leave a record on the computer as to what we were looking at. I know the address though. It’s www.pancanal.com.” He paused as he read, then looked up. “I’ll have to book,” he said. “I’ll also clear the browsing history once I’m done here in a few.”
“That won’t be a problem will it?”
“No. I can do that from here and give them an update from the boat later.”
“We don’t have a computer on the boat.”
“It says here that you need to radio when you arrive at the Atlantic side for inspection and quarantine checks. They then give you a pilot to guide you through. It’ll cost quite a bit. Let me print this. Then, we can show Lou tomorrow. I can print off the booking forms tomorrow when everyone else is out.”
“How much?” Staci read the screen then looked at him.
“Plus an inspection fee, but I’ll get about two thirds of the transport fee back once I’ve gone through the canal.” Jim quickly tapped off a couple of e-mails from his dad’s account: one to the Panama Canal enquires office and one to the Royal Yachting Association. Then, he turned on the printer and clicked print.
The door opened. “Find what you wanted?” Nichola asked.
“Yes, thanks,” Jim replied as the printer started to whirr.
“Good. It’s bedtime, Staci.”
“OK. Night.”
~*~
Lou put down her book as Staci came in. She’d obediently put on her pj’s and sat in bed, but that was as far as she was willing to go.
“What are you reading?” Staci asked.
“Book for school, it’s boring, but I’m in enough trouble. What did you and Jim do?”
“We looked up some stuff on line. Jim printed it off to show you.” Her face fell. “But...I’m leaving on Sunday.”
Lou shut the book in horror. “What?”
“Aunt Edith’s made it so I have to go back to boarding school. I’m here every other weekend and holidays. It’s either
that or Aunt Edith takes us away forever. So, Jim is moving in with Matt. He goes Sunday, too.”
“That’s not fair,” Lou said. “Your aunt can’t do that, can she?”
“The social services have given her temporary guardianship. You mum only has the one stating she’s acting guardian until they return and since they’re missing...there’s nothing anyone can do. It’s not fair. I don’t want to go.”
“I don’t want you to go either.” She rubbed her temples and winced. The pain in her head got worse at the thought of being left alone. “My head hurts.” She put the book away and got under the duvet.
“Do you want your headache pills?”
“No. I’ll try and sleep it off.”
But try as she might she couldn’t sleep more than an hour. The intense pain and flashing lights in front of her eyes, mixed with misery and anger made a bad combination.
Wednesday morning dawned bright and sunny. Staci leapt out of bed and pulled the curtains back, flooding the room with light.
Lou moaned and pulled the duvet over her head. “Shut them please. The light hurts.”
Staci immediately shut the curtains and got Lou’s mum.
Nichola sat on the edge of Lou’s bed. She put two tablets and a glass of water on the bedside cabinet. “Another migraine, Lou?” she asked gently.
Lou moaned in response.
“I’ll make you a doctor’s appointment. These are the last of your pills.”
Nichola left the room.
Lou surfaced long enough to swallow the two pills and then retreated to the dark again.
~*~
Jim smiled as Staci entered the kitchen. “Good morning, campers,” he said. “Cornflakes?”
“Hi, Jim. Please,” she replied. “Lou’s not well.”
“What’s wrong with her? Skivitis?”
“She’s got a migraine.”
Nichola came into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. “The doctor can’t come until lunchtime. I’ve got a meeting at work I can’t get out of, but I don’t want to leave Lou home alone.”
