November-Charlie

by Clare Revell

  Earth might be the silent planet but it was the visited planet. How many other planets out there had been visited by their Creator?

  His thoughts were interrupted by noise from the galley. He went down to investigate, expecting to find Deefer in search of dog biscuits. Instead, it was Lou. Usually he had to drag her out of bed. “This is a surprise,” he said.

  “Not really. It’s gone three. I’m late. Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “I had no idea. I was watching the stars and thinking. You know how it is.”

  “Captain Kirk off among the stars again?”

  “Something like that. I’ll see you later. ‘Night.”

  ~*~

  Tea in hand Lou sat at the helm. The stars were pretty yes, but nothing to write home about. Just like Jim to go into raptures over them. Like he did over sunsets and rainbows. Rainbows? Pretty yes, but just the sunlight reflecting, or was it refracting, off raindrops. The same effect came from oil in puddles on the road and no one in their right mind went into raptures over that.

  The autopilot was coping fine, and Lou checked their position on the chart.

  Although she and Jim hadn’t said too much earlier, the visa thing would be a problem as it was needed to get into the Philippines. That was something they hadn’t considered before. Oh, well. They’d cross that bridge when they got there.

  Did she miss anything back home? The long walks in the park with Deefer, her mates at school—well maybe one. Television. Not the news or soaps, but some of the dramas. Mind you, now they wouldn’t have time to watch it even if they did have one, anyway. And she did miss her mother. Mum was always there, the one constant in her life, but when her dad had died, Lou had seen how quickly things could change and the devastating effect it could have.

  The first rays of sunlight appeared above the horizon. The dawn steadily grew, chasing away the darkness, until the whole sky was pale blue.

  Seagulls glided overhead and Deefer came up to find her.

  “Hey boy. You hungry?” She fed him, let him out and cleaned up. Then, she went back to the bridge and wrote up the ships log for the previous day.

  It was chilly with the door open, so she called Deefer in. He followed her up to the bridge and sat by her feet. Like a teddy bear, he listened without saying a word. He comforted her when she was sad and put up with her moods and gripes. He worried when she was sick and rejoiced when she was happy. Now he looked up adoringly and she rubbed the top of his head.

  “Putting the world to rights, are you?”

  Faint noises from below floated up to the bridge. Doors opened and clicked shut. Water ran and then footsteps came up the steps into the galley. The kettle was filled and put on.

  Staci, Lou thought.

  The radio clicked on. Definitely Staci. Amazingly, they could still pick up Radio Two. When the news came on another piece about them was read. “Police have still found no trace of the missing teens...”

  Staci came up to the bridge. “Did you hear that?”

  “I did.”

  “We can’t let them dredge the river.”

  “Sure we can. It needs cleaning anyway.”

  A voice from the doorway said, “Staci’s right.” Lou turned to see Jim standing there. “Send Nichola a text message.”

  “Is that safe?” Staci asked.

  “They’ll trace it,” Lou griped.

  “We are on a moving boat. Would you rather I did it?”

  “No. I’ll do it. So what do I say?”

  “Just that we’re OK and not to worry.”

  Lou took the phone from the drawer and turned it on. A minute or so later, it beeped. Sighing, she read the message. “Where are you? Please come home. Nun.” She shook her head. Her mother never did check messages before she sent them, forgetting that predictive text could be really stupid at times. She gave the phone to Jim. “You answer it.”

  Jim quickly typed in a message and hit send. He turned the phone off and looked at the girls. “What do you say to increasing speed and trying to make La Palma tomorrow? Quick refuel, food shop, and then head on.”

  “OK.” Lou rose and let Jim take over at the helm.

  There was a noticeable change in engine noise as he increased speed to maximum.

  “La Palma here we come.”

  9

  The land on the horizon grew larger and less hazy. It was late afternoon by the time they arrived at the island.

  Jim had radioed ahead and arranged a berth for one night. He didn’t want to stay any longer.

  At customs, they needed their passports and logbook to show their ultimate destination. Then they docked in the large yacht harbor of the island capital—Santa Cruz de La Palma.

  In the fading light, he could see houses lining the hillside.

  The girls were all for going ashore now, but Jim insisted they wait until morning, so instead they spent the evening playing a vicious card game which Staci eventually won. It was nice that they could all be together for longer than ten or fifteen minutes without having to be on the bridge. But the nicest bit was yet to come—the whole night in bed. Although he still woke early by force of habit.

  The next morning over breakfast they decided to explore Santa Cruz first. Jim bought a guidebook in the first shop they passed, and amazed the girls by speaking fluent Spanish.

  “Where did you learn that?” Lou asked.

  “School. It was offered as a second language. I thought it might be useful.”

  “It says here that it doesn’t rain at all between June and August and apparently some of the beaches have black sand because of the volcanoes.” Lou thumbed through the guide.

  “Let’s find a food shop,” he said. “And we’ll start restocking the cupboards.”

  As they walked down the street, Staci pointed at each site. “Look. A concrete ship.”

  “Don’t be silly, kiddo,” Jim said without looking.

  Lou scowled at him. “No, she’s right. It’s a replica of the Santa Maria—even though Columbus never actually landed here. It’s the maritime museum.”

  “I knew it was a mistake to give you the guidebook,” Jim said.

  “Can we go in please, Jim?” Staci asked. “I know we’re not sightseeing, but as we’re here and not likely to come back again. It won’t take long.”

  “OK, kiddo. Deefer, you stay here.”

  “Next, I want to go see the black beaches and the volcanoes.” Staci folded her arms across her chest. “I’m gonna keep asking until you give in.”

  Jim rolled his eyes. This wasn’t a holiday. This was why he hadn’t wanted to bring her in the first place. He put his foot down. “We’ll come back,” he promised. “I want to get going, find Mum and Dad.”

  “OK,” Staci sighed.

  “Before lunch how about I go and food shop? There’s a beach just down there, according to the road signs.” Lou pointed. “You can take Staci to see her black sand, and I’ll meet you back on the boat. We can have a late lunch and then set off.”

  “Seconded,” Staci said quickly. “We should make a list. I’ll make the suggestions while you write them, Jim.”

  “OK.” Jim pulled out a pen and paper.

  Staci quickly rattled off a list of food, which included dried milk powder.

  “Eyuk.” Lou interrupted.

  “Even if we freeze milk it won’t last five weeks the rate we drink it. The freezer isn’t big enough. Anyway, Mum used to make up a pint at a time and keep it in the fridge. Dad never could tell the difference.”

  “OK. Dried milk powder it is.”

  “Righty-o,” Jim said and added that to his list. “Anything else?”

  “Can’t remember what we said.”

  Jim read back the list to them.

  Lou yawned. “Paper and pencils for the logbook.”

  “OK. Anything else? Cleaning stuff?”

  “Wouldn’t hurt. Cereal, preferably something different.”

  Jim added that and a couple of things he thought of. “Anymo
re for anymore, chaps?”

  With no more suggestions, Jim handed Lou the list and he and Staci headed toward the beach.

  ~*~

  Lou finished the shopping and walked back to the boat. The others weren’t back, so she and Deefer walked slowly along the quay towards the old town. She had taken her camera, which was just as well as she discovered a beautiful stone fountain. As she took a few shots, she noticed a newsagent in the background.

  Finding an English paper, she walked in and paid for it. The man behind the counter looked at her strangely. She assumed she’d got her Spanish wrong and left it at that.

  The smell of fresh bread at the baker’s shop was inviting and tempting, and in her spattering of Spanish, she placed an order. The baker also looked strangely at her. It must be my Spanish. The baker told her how much it was, and she automatically paid, responding in kind. It was only as she untied Deefer, that she realized he’d spoken to her in English.

  She turned the paper over and glanced at the date—yesterday’s. Not that old then.

  The photo on the front page caught her eye. It was her. Her own photo and that of Jim and Staci gazed back at her. She quickly read the report which mentioned the text message they’d sent, and the fact it had been traced to the vicinity of the Canary Islands.

  Lou scrambled to her feet. How could she have been so stupid? She gathered her shopping and walked back to the boat, hoping she appeared normal.

  No wonder people were looking at her.

  The trip back seemed to take forever and when she arrived it was locked. “Now where have they gone?”

  Once inside, Lou locked the door behind her. She put the bread and cake away, and then, taking the paper to the bridge, started the pre-sailing checklist.

  Footsteps on the deck made her jump.

  She quickly dropped to the floor and crawled to the stairs. She waited, her heart in her mouth.

  Deefer watched her, his tail wagging. He barked a greeting and whined as Lou put a finger to her lips.

  “Hello? Lou?” It was Jim.

  Lou released a cry of relief and went flying to the galley. “It’s you.”

  Staci placed the bags she carried on the table. “Of course. Were you expecting the FBI?”

  Jim glanced from Lou to his sister. “Are you OK to put the stuff away, Stace? I want to show Lou the stamps I bought.”

  “You and your stamps. Go on then.”

  “The light is better on the bridge. Come on, Lou.” He led the way and once there, turned to face her. She was physically shaking now, and Jim took her in his arms and hugged her. “I’m sorry if we scared you.”

  She handed him the paper. “Look.”

  Jim paled under his tan as he read the article. “You really were expecting the FBI, weren’t you?”

  “The local cops, at any rate. I’ve done the pre-sailing checks and got food for six weeks. Have you refueled?”

  “Yes, diesel and water. I don’t want Staci seeing this. I’ll put it in the bin on the quay. We leave ASAP.”

  “Are we all paid up here?”

  “Yeah. I did it last night when we arrived. I’d intended to leave today anyway, but we go now rather than after dinner.”

  As Jim headed out, Lou went to the galley. “We’re going now,” she said. “Jim wants to get as far in daylight as we can.”

  “Can’t we have lunch first?”

  “Apparently not. I’ll go and help him cast off.”

  Lou caught the mooring ropes as he threw them to her, stashed them neatly on deck and covered them with the tarpaulin. As she returned inside, the engines started and the anchor hit home as Jim raised it.

  Avon moved from the dock.

  Jim had become quite expert at handling her and turned her on a dime, heading out in to open sea.

  By the time lunch was ready, La Palma had vanished from view and some of Lou’s fear with it. Unnerved just wasn’t the word although she tried to convince herself it was.

  The sun began to set, and with the night came a strong tail wind.

  Jim cut the engines and let the wind take her. He plotted the course and set the autopilot. The stage was set for the next leg of their journey.

  The crossing of the Atlantic.

  10

  June turned into July and life on board Avon carried on as much as it had before. The shift system worked well, with Lou and Jim even pulling the odd all-nighter just to see if it was possible. Having done the occasional all-night stitching session, Lou found it relatively easy.

  July sixth came and went with no sign of dinner being ready.

  Finally from the galley the sounds of dishes and chopping came.

  “Cold tea by the sounds of it,” Jim said glumly.

  “And that’s more than you deserve.”

  A crash echoed from the galley, followed by a single piercing scream, which was cut off by another resounding crash. There was a thud and then silence.

  Jim and Lou converged on the galley, Lou getting to the steps a fraction before Jim.

  Deefer stood guarding something, barking frantically.

  Staci lay on the floor, an overturned stool by her feet surrounded by pieces of broken glass and china and an ever-increasing pool of blood. “Staci.” Jim dropped to her side and was about to shake her when Lou stopped him.

  “Wait. Deefer, go to the bridge and stay. I’ll see to her. Grab the med bag will you? Then clear away the broken stuff—give me room to work.” Lou grabbed a tea towel and pressed it against the side of Staci’s head.

  Jim gave her the opened bag and cleared away the broken pieces.

  Lou carefully ran her hands over Staci’s body. “Nothing feels broken,” she said.

  “How can you tell?” Jim asked, his voice trembling. “She’s losing a lot of blood.”

  “Head wounds always do bleed a lot.”

  Lou moved the blood soaked tea towel. “Rinse this in cold water, will you?”

  “Don’t you mean hot?”

  “Cold. Cold water removes bloodstains, hot water sets them.”

  While Jim did that, she gently examined Staci’s head. She cleaned the cut and stuck a plaster over it. “Where’s that torch?” she asked as she finished.

  Jim got up and fetched it for her. “Here.”

  Lou pulled open Staci’s eyes and shone the torch briefly into them. “Good. Both pupils equal and reactive.”

  “Why is that good?”

  “Because otherwise she would be in big trouble. Don’t you watch TV? Can you carry her for me please? We need to get her into bed and out of these clothes.”

  There was no reaction.

  Lou sighed. She didn’t need Jim going south on her now. “Jim.”

  “Sorry. What did you say?”

  “Can you help me get her into bed?”

  “Sure.”

  Jim lifted Staci into his arms.

  In the cabin, Lou pulled back the duvet and Jim placed his still unconscious sister onto her bed. He was going to sit next to her when Lou stopped him. “Jim, you’re covered in blood. Go and change. She’ll be OK for a minute.” Lou put some clothes on her bed and pushed Jim towards the door. Then she changed Staci into a clean nightie. She went back up to the galley and cleaned the floor. She put all the bloodied clothes in cold water to soak and put the kettle on.

  When she returned she found Jim kneeling beside Staci’s bed in the tiny gap between the two bunks.

  His shoulders were shaking and tears poured down his face.

  Leaving without being noticed, she grabbed the clean clothes from her bed and went back up to the galley. Changing quickly she added her clothes to those already soaking in the sink.

  She rinsed them through and then washed and spun them.

  The bread that Staci had buttered was on the side, with the unsliced cucumber next to it. She had obviously stood on the stool to get the dishes down and lost her balance.

  Lou righted the stool and cleared away some of what Staci had started for tea. She heated up
a can of soup and boiled the kettle again. She took the soup and Jim’s tea down to her and Staci’s cabin.

  “Here,” Lou said. “Get this down your neck.”

  Jim looked up. “I’m not hungry.”

  “You need to eat. You are no good to her like this.”

  “All right.” Jim sat on Lou’s bed, taking the soup.

  Lou put the mug of tea on the cupboard that separated the two bunks. She sat on the edge of Staci’s and picking up Staci’s wrist to take her pulse. It was normal, as was her breathing. “She’s doing OK,” Lou told Jim as she checked Staci’s eyes again.

  Jim finished his soup and put the bowl down. He picked up his tea. “Why isn’t she awake?”

  “I don’t know. Even if she was in hospital right now, they might not know. Maybe she’s just sleeping. I need to go and check the bridge. You get some sleep. Come and take over at two, yeah? If she’s still out, we should phone the coastguard or the navy or lifeboat or something. They do rescue people from mid-ocean, you know.”

  “We can’t.”

  Lou looked at him crossly.

  “Is that what you want? To give up? Remember those newspaper headlines. Every cop in the world is looking for us right now. If we issue a mayday, it’s all over bar the shouting. They won’t fix Staci up and return her to us. Or let me carry on and rescue my parents. They will send us back. Staci will go into care. We’ll never be allowed to stay with Nichola again or see you again. You said yourself, she’s fine, just sleeping.”

  “I’m no doctor and that’s what she needs.”

  Jim stood up and pushed Lou towards the corridor for a conference. “She’s my sister. I’ll say what she needs.”

  “What is it with you? You want her to die, is that it?” Lou yelled.

  “No. That’s not true.”

  “Then let me call for help,” she said threateningly. Lou put her hands on her hips. She had never backed down from a fight and wouldn’t start now.

  “We have come too far. I am not giving up on my parents even if you want to.”

  “If she dies how will you feel then?”