Playing the Spy

by Maggie Brown

  “Right.” Sophie studied the man and woman as Doug secured an extra line. In the yellow glow shining out the cabin door, the couple, not young, clutched the railing. “The wind is really whipping up. It’ll only get worse, so we’d better move ourselves,” said Doug. “I’m going over now.”

  Without another word, he heaved over both rails in a motion surprising agile for such a large a man. A wave rolled through. The trawler tipped alarmingly then crashed down onto the side of the yacht.

  “Now go,” Doug yelled to the woman who was clutching the railing.

  With difficulty, they heaved her over into Sophie’s waiting arms. The man followed quickly. Sophie ran back to the wheel.

  Doug readied to join them. Another wave hit the side of the yacht with so much force that it lurched sharply, propelling him backward. He crashed onto the deck. Sophie looked over frantically, in two minds what to do. Her first instinct was to get over there to help him but hesitated. It was all she could do to keep the trawler’s bow into the wind. Thankfully, the matter was solved when Doug staggered to his feet, and, with a running jump, jockeyed his bulk over the railings. A sharp oath exploded from him as he sprawled heavily on the deck of his trawler, and slid across the slippery deck to smack into the side of the large freezer. Blood crawled down his burly arm as he raised himself up on his elbows.

  He waved to Sophie impatiently. “Cut the ropes,” he gasped. “We’ll have to abandon the yacht or we’ll go down with it.”

  She needed no second urging. The yacht was listing badly, half submerged into the sea. Leaving the wheel, she dashed to fetch the two fillet knives from the fishing box. She handed one to the skipper of the yacht and they began to cut. After the ropes zipped off into the air with sharp twangs, the vessels parted at once. She turned to see Doug had already taken command of the wheel and was steering the trawler away from the sinking craft. “Take the folks down below,” he called out, “and get them comfortable. They look bushed.”

  Sophie studied them sympathetically. Both looked to be in their mid- to late-fifties and from the cut of their clothes, affluent. The man was tanned and fit, and by the way that he held his stance on the lurching deck, he was quite at home at sea. Smaller and lighter, the woman was having much more difficulty keeping her footing. She was clutching the railing to keep upright, clearly at the point of collapse. Between them both, Sophie and the man managed to get her down the steps into the cabin.

  “Sorry about the mess,” she said as she led them past the kitchen galley to the bunks. “We weren’t expecting company.”

  After they eased the woman onto a bunk, Sophie gave the man a nod. “She’ll be comfortable here. I’m Sophie Ryan by the way.”

  He brushed his hair back with a jerky sweep of his hand. “Bill Harvey and this is my wife June. We’re holidaying on Hamilton Island. We hired the boat to explore and fish on the reef for a couple of days, but it certainly turned out a bloody disaster. I have to say I’ve never been so relieved in my life to see your trawler.”

  “You’re lucky you caught us. We were about to head in. Look, I have to get back on deck but Doug will be down shortly to see you.” She flashed them both a smile. “Don’t worry, you’re in capable hands. He’s the best seaman in the Whitsundays.”

  Sophie made her way to the wheelhouse, pleased to see Doug didn’t seem to have any after-effects of his fall. But he was oddly quiet, frowning as he watched the turbulent water.

  She glanced at the navigational screen on the instrument panel. They were tracking the wrong way. “Aren’t we going home?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. We’re too far north to make it safely back. We’re going to find shelter to wait out the storm.”

  Sophie shivered as she gazed past the ship’s light into the inky ocean. The sky was eerily lit up at regular intervals by forked lightning. “Where are we going?”

  Doug pointed at the screen. “We’ll never outrun this front. It’s coming too quickly. There’s an island about ten clicks away. We’ll anchor on the leeward side and wait it out until morning. The open sea will be too dangerous. Who are our guests, by the way?”

  “Bill Harvey and his wife June. They’re on holidays, the yacht’s a rental.”

  “I’ll go down to have a word with them.” He fiddled with the radio and when he’d put the receiver down, he dusted his clothes. “I won’t be long. Keep her on this course.”

  He returned with a bottle of water, which he passed to Sophie before taking back the wheel. “I told them to stay below. They seem more than happy to be out of the wind, and they’re whacked. The next hour isn’t going to pleasant and I don’t want anyone flapping around in the way.” He glanced sideways at her. “You did well today, Sophie. Many people would have panicked, but you kept your head. You’re not a bad fisherman either.”

  Sophie felt a warm glow—Doug rarely doled out praise. “Ha! My dad taught me well, but you did all the work. So what went wrong for Bill and June?”

  “He’s an experienced sailor. But when the weather turned nasty, they collided with a jutting bank of coral. Before he noticed, it was too late. The hull was breached and water ran into the lower deck. They’d inflated their life raft and were about to abandon ship when they saw us coming.” He tapped the radio, flipped a switch and spoke into the handpiece. After a few tries, he gave up. “Damn!” he exclaimed. “There’s too much electrical interference. We’ll have a try when we get out of this wind. We aren’t far off now.”

  By the time the dark outline of the island was visible, the wind had reached gale-force. Sophie watched nervously through the glass as the ship ploughed through the escalating waves. Even with all her boating experience, the creaking of the hull was terrifying. As Doug steered closer, there was an enormous crack, which sent sparks flying from the instrument panels.

  “Bloody hell,” he yelled over the screaming wind. “Lightning’s struck the aerial. I’ll have to bring her in blind without the depth sounder.”

  The next half an hour was harrowing as they circled the point. Now broadside to the wind, the vessel, battered by huge waves, dipped alarmingly. Even with the spotlights and jagged lightning, visibility went down to nil, and at one stage, the vessel foundered so badly Sophie thought they wouldn’t make the turn. When they eventually sailed out of the wind, she knew it was only through Doug’s immense skill that they had reached the leeward side in one piece. The change was dramatic. Sheltered from the main force of the storm, the sea was calmer, the wind quieter, though her stomach remained queasy.

  “That was fucking close,” said Doug, sagging against the wheel. “For a moment there, I thought the old girl wasn’t going to get her nose around fast enough.”

  “Me too,” said Sophie. “I was saying my prayers.”

  “I’ll bring her in as close to the beach as I can. I’ve been here before. There are no rocks, and the channel is deep enough so we won’t run aground. I’ll head the bow into the wind, let the anchor go and give it a shot of reverse to set the hook. It’s still going to be a little rough but we’ll escape the main blow.”

  “Will you be able to contact Eurydice?”

  “There were a lot of sparks from the radio. I’ll have a go, but I doubt I’ll get through. If it’s damaged, I won’t be able to do much until first light.”

  “I imagine they’ll be worried about us?”

  “We can’t do much about it. They know I answered the mayday, and that I’d find a safe haven in this weather.” He gave Sophie’s shoulder a squeeze. “Go on down and take the third bunk. Tell them we’re safe now.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll keep watch for a while, and then bunk down here in case any calls come through.”

  Sophie gave a long sigh. She certainly needed to lie down—she was exhausted. “Okay. Let me know if you need me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Eleanor heard the knock, she glanced at the clock beside her bed with a sigh of frustration. Impat
ient with herself for not getting her message across last night, she called out, “Come in.”

  Carol appeared through the door with a breakfast tray. “I thought you would like breakfast in bed.”

  “You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble, Carol.”

  Seemingly unconcerned at the lacklustre welcome, she crossed the room and settled the tray on Eleanor’s lap before sitting on the end of the bed. “Nonsense. It’s my pleasure.” She broke a croissant, buttered it and handed it to Eleanor. “I’d like to talk about us, Ellie. You were avoiding the subject yesterday, but it’s time we had a frank discussion.”

  “I wasn’t evading the issue. I told you how I felt.”

  “I heard what you were trying to tell me last night, but you never really explained why you don’t want to take our relationship that final step? We’re great friends and you know I think the world of you, so why can’t we become lovers? It would suit us both.”

  Eleanor met her gaze without flinching. “You forget to mention the main ingredient, Carol. Love. It wouldn’t work. You must understand that while I like you very much, I haven’t any romantic feelings for you.”

  “I’m in love with you, sweetheart. You must know that.” She reached over and took Eleanor’s hand prisoner. “Even if you don’t feel the same way, you’ll grow to love me. Lasting relationships are far more likely to succeed built on friendship.”

  With an irritated sweep, Eleanor brushed loose strands of hair off her face with her free hand. “Even if I loved you, I want more than you’re willing to give. I want the full package: an open relationship and a family. I intend to announce my sexuality when I go home.”

  For a few long seconds Carol was silent, then said in a tight voice, “Why the sudden change of heart? I thought you were happy.”

  “I haven’t been for quite a while. Oh, it’s not my work—I love that. It’s my private life I’m dissatisfied with.”

  “It hasn’t anything to do with that tramp here in the house with you, has it?”

  Eleanor stared at her, tiny shivers of cold shimmering over her skin. Carol was angry, but the way she spat out the words was also a little frightening. She realized now why Sophie had left. Carol had obviously said something vindictive. She took the coffee cup in both hands to cover the tremor she couldn’t control. “Sophie has nothing to do with this, so leave her out of it. This is between you and me.”

  “Rubbish. She’s trouble with a capital T. I’m not stupid, Ellie. I saw how she threw herself at you in the pool.”

  “We’ve become good friends,” she said, then added a little white lie to defuse the situation. “I don’t even know if she’s a lesbian.”

  Carol made a scoffing sound. “Come off it. I wasn’t born yesterday. You haven’t stopped touching her since I arrived, and she looks at you like you’re some sexual goddess.”

  Eleanor tingled with pleasure at that observation. She couldn’t stop her lips curving into a smile at the image of Sophie dressed as a vestal virgin, worshipping her body. When she saw Carol stiffen, she wiped the smile. “You’re imagining things. Now, let me eat my breakfast and afterward I’ll take you down to the beach for a swim. Maybe I can persuade Doug to take us out on a short cruise.”

  Carol moved off the bed with reluctance. “Okay, I’ll get changed, but don’t think this is the end of the conversation, Ellie. I’d like us to come to some arrangement before I go. If it means I have to come out to have a relationship with you, then I will.”

  Eleanor stared silently into space when Carol walked out the door. Damn! Instead of shutting down Carol’s advances, things had become more complicated. Now the woman was going to come out for her. One of Eleanor’s trump cards had disappeared.

  After swallowing down the last of the breakfast, she slipped a shirt and shorts over her swimsuit, conscious she had to have some plan to discourage Carol. Since the agent was definitely not a fitness junkie, a good dose of the outdoors should take the shine off any amorous advances. After a swim in the sea, they could take the long walk around to the point, then down to the entertainment centre. Doug might take them around the island in his boat, which would take care of the afternoon. Carol had met him yesterday. Dining out for dinner would eliminate a cosy intimate meal at home.

  Happier now, she slathered on sunblock, picked up her sunglasses from the side table and put on her hat. Carol was waiting in the lounge, looking out of her element in her new holiday boutique wear. Her sandals seemed too flimsy for a hike, but Eleanor refrained from commenting.

  “Ready?” Eleanor asked brightly.

  “Do we need to take anything?”

  “Get two big bottles of water from the fridge and I’ll get the towels from the cupboard.”

  It was a bright sunny day, ideal for a dip in the ocean. After she parked the buggy under a palm tree, Eleanor led the way to the water, peeping into the boat shed on the way.

  Doug was nowhere to be seen.

  When over an hour later they emerged from the water, she suggested they walk along to the beach and around to the helicopter pad on the point.

  Carol shrugged. “Okay, as long as it is not too far. The swim tired me out.”

  “No…no. It’s just up a little way.” She waved her hand vaguely. “When we get to those rocks over there, we shall have to climb to get around them. Leave the towels and we’ll pick them up on the way back in the buggy, but take the water with you. It’ll be better to walk barefoot until we get off the beach.”

  It was heavy going through the sand and by the time they reached the rocks, she could see Carol looked even less enthusiastic now. “Are you all right? Sophie hiked up to the point the other day and said it was a very pleasant walk.”

  “I’m fine,” Carol said curtly. “Lead on.”

  Eleanor chuckled to herself. Sophie would no more think a hike was fun than a trip to the dentist. She didn’t mention either that Lisa had warned them off this track.

  As they plodded along, there were great views, but soon navigating the uneven path was beginning to take precedence over the novelty of the scenery. She didn’t turn to see if Carol was still behind her until they had left the beach far behind. When she did swivel to look, Carol had a thin sheen of perspiration on her face and her breathing was ragged.

  “Sorry,” Eleanor said with a smile. “Have I been walking too fast?”

  “How much fucking further?” she rasped.

  “Not far.” She hoped it wasn’t. She was getting tired too, even though her strength had built up with swimming in the pool every day. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have come this way, but you didn’t look out of shape.”

  “I’m perfectly fit. Get on with it.”

  Despite the ache that had begun to creep into her back, Eleanor beamed. “Okay. Isn’t it just the most glorious day for a hike?”

  A grunt was the only answer.

  With a brisk step, Eleanor started again, again not stopping to see if Carol was following. For the next half hour the track became even harder to negotiate, and at one stage, they had to crawl on their hands and knees along a particularly narrow place overlooking a cliff. Then the path veered up the hill, and as it became steadily steeper, every step became an effort. Finally, they began to descend, and after zigzagging between trees, the helicopter pad appeared in the distance. Eleanor’s muscles were on fire, her legs leaden and her nerves quivering. With a long sigh, she sank down in the cool shade of a stand of Melaleuca trees near a strip of white sand.

  She felt sticky, dirty, and tired. When Carol flopped down on the ground beside her, Eleanor could see she was in a worse way. Her hair under the wide-brimmed golf hat was sticking out at odd angles, her clothes dishevelled and grimy and her face a ruddy red. “You didn’t say I had to be a damn mountain goat,” she gasped.

  “It was a bit…um…challenging. I think I must have misunderstood Sophie. I must have taken the wrong turn somewhere.” Eleanor took a swallow from her water bottle. “We’ll rest for a while before we head back.” />
  “You’re not thinking of going back that crappy way, I hope.”

  “Of course not. We’ll walk back on the road to the centre. It’s only a k and a half. We’ll grab a snack there and cool off in the pool.”

  Carol groaned. “I can’t walk another step. How far is it in miles? My new shoes are ruined and my feet hurt. Ring them to come and pick us up.”

  “You’re forgetting there’s no mobile coverage here. We’ll have to walk.”

  “I can’t,” Carol whined. “I’ve had it.”

  “Nonsense. It’s less than a mile. Where’s your stamina?”

  Carol eyed her irritably. “What’s with you? Four weeks on this island and you’ve turned into one of those characters from Lost. And look at your skin. You’re brown as a berry. You should be covering up more.”

  “I’m starting to feel as fit as I’ve ever been. More so actually. Fresh air and exercise has done wonders for my health. It wouldn’t hurt you to go to the gym occasionally. You spend too much time cloistered in your office.”

  “For shit sake, give me a break. What are you now…a personal trainer? May I have a drink please?”

  “Have you drunk yours already?”

  “You only gave me one miserable bottle.”

  Eleanor quashed annoyance and eyed her with a degree of sympathy. As Carol did look distressed, it would be cruel to add to her misery. “Here, but go easy. There’s not much left. We better get going soon or we’ll seize up.”

  “Leave me here while you go. Tell them to come and get me.”

  Though Eleanor was tempted to do just that—Carol would only complain all the way—she scooped up her bottle and rose to her feet. “Don’t talk such rot. Come on…get up.”

  Carol glared but scrambled upright. As they limped off down the road, Eleanor was relieved at least they didn’t have the worry about losing their way. Not long down the road, she wriggled uncomfortably. The sun was directly overhead now, bright and hot. Sweat turned into stains under her armpits, which made her wish she had a roll-on deodorant in her pocket. She missed Sophie—she would have had all the essentials in her little backpack. At the thought of her, Eleanor felt a wave of anticipation. She would be at the resort. She hadn’t realized how much she missed her and quickened her pace until strident words echoed from behind. “Slow down, damn you. I can hardly walk, let alone trot. My feet are killing me.”