by Dilly Court
The sky visible between the heavy black clouds was sulphurous yellow and the boiling black mass of water had them at its mercy. Caroline shipped the oar and held on to the gunwales for dear life. The flashes of lightning were followed seconds later by ear-splitting crashes of thunder, loud enough to waken the dead. The boat was bouncing off the waves, plunging into troughs and then by some miracle came up head to the wind. Then, even more terrifying, Caroline was aware of a dark shape looming above them, and they were heading for it at an alarming speed. The keel grated on shingle and for a moment it seemed as though they were safe, but then a huge wave flipped the boat over and they were flung into the water.
Gasping for air, Caroline crawled up the beach, raising herself to her knees as she struggled for breath. ‘Grace.’ She scrambled to her feet and stumbled over to where Grace lay face down in the surf. Caroline used the last of her strength to pull her clear of the water. ‘Grace, speak to me.’
Grace retched and turned her head as she coughed up seawater. Caroline raised her to a sitting position. ‘You’re all right. We’re safe on shore.’
‘Where are we?’ Grace looked round dazedly.
A flash of lightning illuminated the small cove surrounded on three sides by high cliffs. A wooden jetty jutted into the water, and across the dark expanse of the bay Caroline could see pinpricks of light from the mainland.
‘It’s Bear Island,’ she said softly. ‘I remember coming here for a picnic when I was a child. We’re about half a mile off shore.’
‘That’s not very far,’ Grace said hopefully.
Caroline stood up, wringing water from her sodden skirts. ‘Help me to drag the boat above high-water level or we’ll lose it.’
‘Are you telling me we’ll have to stay here all night?’
‘I’m afraid so. We won’t get very far with only one oar, and no one knows we’re here.’
‘But Elias and Dickon know that we took the boat.’
‘Yes, but they won’t know that we were washed up on this beach, and the island is uninhabited.’ Caroline could see that Grace was close to tears, and she made an effort to sound positive. ‘We’ll move the boat first and then we need to get dry.’
Grace helped Caroline drag the boat higher up the beach, but having done so she collapsed onto her knees. ‘I can’t go any further, Carrie. I’ll have to stay here.’
‘Don’t give up now.’ Caroline glanced up into the darkening sky. ‘It’s stopped raining, thank goodness.’
‘I’m so wet I don’t think I’ll ever get warm again.’ Grace covered her face with her hands and her shoulders heaved.
‘You’ve got to keep moving.’ Caroline helped her to her feet. ‘Freddie and Raven should be at the Abbey by now and when they discover we’re missing they’ll send out a search party. We’re safe here, for now, but we have to find shelter.’
‘I can’t go any further, Carrie. I’m sorry, but I’m done in.’
‘If I remember rightly there’s a path that leads from the beach to the top of the island, and there’s a hut that the fishermen used to use to watch for shoals of fish, or that’s what Freddie told me. Anyway, if it’s still there we’ll be able to shelter until morning.’
‘I don’t think I can walk that far. My gown is so wet I can hardly stand.’
Caroline began to unbutton her bodice. ‘I’m going to take mine off. It’ll make walking easier and it’s not cold.’
‘My teeth are chattering.’
‘Then take off your dress and start walking. There’s no one to see us and we’ll die of lung fever if we don’t get warm.’ Caroline allowed her soaking garment to fall to the ground. She picked it up and looped it over her arm. ‘Are you coming? Or are you going to spend the night on the beach?’
It was a long walk up the steep incline and they had to keep stopping to allow Grace to catch her breath, but eventually they reached the top of the island, and, as Caroline had said, there was a stone hut perched on a vantage point overlooking the whole bay. The storm had abated and in the moonlight the small building looked lonely and dilapidated. The door creaked and opened, although it hung precariously on one hinge, and Caroline stepped inside. There was no glass in the windows, and, judging by the smell, birds had obviously been nesting in the rafters, but it was shelter of a sort and reasonably warm. A shaft of moonlight filtered through the small windows, revealing wooden benches built along two of the longest walls.
‘At least we can lie down.’ Caroline heaved the door shut and clicked the latch into place. ‘I’m almost dry after that walk. How about you, Grace?’
‘I’m so tired I could sleep anywhere.’ Grace sank down on one of the benches. ‘I suppose I should be thankful that we’re alive, but I’m starving, and I keep thinking of that pie we took so much trouble to make.’
Caroline hooked her wet gown over one of the window frames and did the same with Grace’s equally sodden dress. ‘I’m hungry, too.’
Grace stretched out on the rough planks. ‘How will we let them know where we are?’
‘We could make a flag from our clothes. We’ll think of something, and Freddie will see that the boat is gone. We’ve survived so far, haven’t we?’ Caroline eased herself onto the bench and lay back. She was certain that she would not sleep a wink on such an uncomfortable bed, but she was exhausted and she closed her eyes.
She awakened suddenly and found herself lying on the floor in a pile of dried moss and straw. For a moment she did not know where she was and then she remembered. She raised herself to a sitting position and glanced anxiously at Grace, who was still asleep although it was daylight and sunshine streamed through the windows. Caroline scrambled to her feet and stretched. Every bone in her body seemed to ache, but she was alive and for that she had to be thankful. She was also very hungry and she decided to leave Grace to sleep while she went outside to look for something to eat. Perhaps she would find some blackberries, although, born and bred in the city, she had very little knowledge of what she might find growing in the wild. She opened the door carefully so that she did not disturb Grace and went outside, taking deep breaths of the salty air and inhaling the scent of sea thrift. The tussocky grass was spangled with dew and the sun had risen, turning the distant sandstone cliffs to a deep crimson. Across the water she could see the square towers of the Abbey rising above the trees, and she wished she could fly like the gulls that soared effortlessly overhead, but that was just fantasy and she must be practical. She stood on the top of the treeless windswept island, trying to think of a way to attract the attention of those who were maddeningly near, and yet out of reach. A signal fire would certainly make someone on land sit up and take notice, but, lacking the means to light one, it was out of the question. A flag made out of her chemise might catch someone’s eye, but they needed to get off the island quickly. Grace was still recovering from her injuries and they had neither food nor water.
Caroline decided to inspect the boat to find out if it was seaworthy. From her vantage point the waters looked calm enough and maybe she could scull across the narrow strip of sea using the remaining oar.
She made her way down the steep path to the beach, hoping that they had left the boat well above the high-water mark. It was there, but the bright sunlight revealed a huge hole where the rotting timbers had crunched on the stony foreshore. Despondent and desperate, she picked up the oar and returned to the hut.
Grace was wide awake and she attempted to stand, but sank down again on the hard wooden bench. ‘Where have you been, Carrie? I thought you might have fallen over the cliff or something equally terrible.’
Caroline laid her hand on Grace’s forehead. ‘I think you have a fever.’
‘It’s hardly surprising after what we’ve been through.’ Grace sat back against the rough stone wall. ‘Where were you?’
‘I went to see if the boat was seaworthy, but I’m afraid it came off badly when we were washed ashore. We’ll just have to make a flag out of a petticoat or something. I’ve brought
the oar with me as it’s the only thing we could use as a flagstaff.’
‘You’re going to tie your chemise to an oar?’ Grace began to giggle uncontrollably.
Caroline smiled. ‘Well, it should attract someone’s attention. Unless you have a better idea.’
‘You’d best use mine, which is cotton and yours is silk.’
Caroline lifted Grace’s dress from the window. ‘This is almost dry. You should put it on.’
‘I’m too hot as it is. Hang my dress on the pole, Carrie. I never liked that shade of yellow anyway, it makes me look sallow.’
‘You sound just like Maria,’ Caroline said, chuckling.
Grace lay down again, balancing precariously on her side. ‘Do as I say, please, Carrie.’ She closed her eyes.
Caroline covered Grace, using the offending yellow gown as a blanket, and left her to sleep. She took her own dress outside and tied it to the oar, which she stuck into the soft ground at the highest point on the island. Occasionally a playful breeze tugged at the long skirts, but at other times the air was still, and the dress dangled limply, steaming slightly in the warmth of the sun. Grace was feverish and kept calling out for something to slake her thirst, but Caroline was unable to help her. Despite searching every inch of the island she soon realised that there was no source of fresh water. She wished it would rain again, but the sky was an unrelenting blue and the heat was intense. There was little she could do other than to divide her time between her attempts to soothe Grace’s feverish cries and keeping a lookout for a passing vessel. It was frustrating to see trains wending their way along the coastal line and being unable to attract the attention of anyone on board. She waved frantically at each one, but they were far away and she doubted if any of the passengers could see her.
The hours passed slowly and the sun was high in the sky, making it uncomfortable to sit outside for any length of time. Grace was babbling incoherently and the only relief that Caroline could offer was to snatch a handful of grass and wipe the minute residual drops of dew onto Grace’s cracked lips. She had just done so and had gone outside to shake the grass from her hand, when she saw clouds swirling in from the west. A warm breeze ruffled her hair and for the first time in her life she prayed for rain. Then, as quickly as often happens in the middle of an English summer, the clouds darkened and giant spots of rain fell on her upturned face. She cupped her hands and held them up to collect as much of the life-giving water as was possible, moistening her own lips before attending to Grace. Having repeated this several times, Caroline stood outside allowing the rain to cool her hot body. It was only a passing shower, but the relief it had brought was huge. Then, just as her sense of optimism was returning, the sun broke through the clouds and it was even hotter than before.
Caroline was beginning to give up hope of being rescued when she spotted a boat heading for the cove. She snatched her dress from the oar and waved it frantically. In her excitement she had quite forgotten that she was wearing nothing but her chemise, and her stays were inside the hut where she had left them the previous evening. It might be Quick or Dickon standing in the bows, but at this moment she would have supped with the devil in order to get off the island.
‘Halloo!’ she shouted at the top of her voice. ‘Halloo! We’re here.’ She dropped the soggy garment, raced down the path at a reckless speed, and arrived on the beach just as the vessel slid alongside the jetty. The relief of seeing another human being overcame all thoughts of modesty and she ran to meet her rescuer, coming to a sudden halt when she recognised the first man to step off the boat. It was only then that she realised her state of undress and she took a step backwards, folding her arms across her bosom.
‘What are you doing here, Phineas?’
‘We were all worried about you. I came down on the train with Raven and Freddie. I hoped to take you and Grace back to London with me.’ Phineas took off his jacket and wrapped it around her. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine, but Grace is unwell. She’s in the hut on top of the island.’
‘Let’s get you on board and you can tell us what happened later.’
Caroline stood her ground. ‘No, we must get Grace first. I’ll take you to her.’
‘No, you won’t.’ Raven hurried up to them, followed by Freddie. ‘Do as Phineas tells you, Caroline. I know the island well. We’ll find Grace and bring her to you.’
‘That’s right.’ Freddie patted her on the shoulder. ‘Raven and I used to swim out here to escape our tutor. We know every inch of the place – we’ll fetch Grace.’
‘My gown,’ Carrie whispered. ‘I was using it as a flag. I can’t go ashore in my shift.’
‘Never mind that now.’ Phineas boarded the boat first and held out his hand. ‘Freddie will bring your gown, and I promise not to look.’ His lips twitched and the twinkle in his eyes brought a blush to her cheeks.
‘My mother would have forty fits if she could see me now,’ she said, smiling ruefully as she took his hand and stepped onto the deck. ‘How did you know we were here?’
‘We found Quick and his friends sleeping off the effects of drinking everything they could lay their hands on in Freddie’s cellar. We left the local police sergeant and a constable to deal with them.’
‘Quick is a dangerous man,’ Caroline said wearily. ‘I think he might have killed Grace had he got his hands on her last night.’
‘Raven said he’ll press charges. They behaved like common criminals, breaking and entering, damaging private property and threatening you and Grace with bodily harm. That will do for a start.’
‘But if they were dead drunk how did you know where to find us?’
‘Freddie guessed that you’d escaped through the secret passage. He went to check and saw that the boat had gone.’
‘We could have drowned.’ Caroline’s teeth were chattering, despite the heat. ‘Grace is very poorly.’
Phineas slipped his arm around her shoulders and guided her to a seat. ‘Sit down, Caroline. You’ve been through a nasty experience, and you need to rest.’
She collapsed on to the hard wooden bench. ‘I need food, and a cup of tea wouldn’t go amiss.’
He took a hip flask from his pocket and unscrewed the silver stopper. ‘It’s not tea, but this will help.’ He held it to her lips, smiling gently. ‘You gave us a fright, you know. Freddie knew that the rowing boat was in a poor state of repair. You and Grace were lucky it got you this far.’
Caroline coughed as the brandy hit the back of her throat, but the alcohol had an almost instantaneous effect and she began to feel better. ‘The wind and tide helped, but I learned to row when I was a child, and I remember coming here for a picnic with Freddie. I think the sea must be in my blood, which is why I’ll be a good business partner.’
Phineas handed her the flask. ‘Have another sip. It’s brought the roses back to your cheeks.’
She smiled up at him. ‘Are you evading the issue? We are still partners, aren’t we?’
‘Why else would I have come all this way to find you?’
Caroline was inexplicably disappointed by Phineas’ response. She took another sip of brandy, knowing that it was a mistake to drink on an empty stomach, but she was beginning to feel pleasantly light-headed.
‘I thought perhaps you were worried about me,’ she said recklessly. ‘But then I know you have a block of ice where you heart should be – just like your grandmother. All you think about is profit and loss.’ She was about to take yet another sip from the flask when Phineas snatched it from her.
‘Maybe a cup of tea would have been a better option.’ His lips were smiling but his eyes darkened, and he turned to help Freddie, who had made his way down the steep path with Grace held firmly in his arms. With Raven’s assistance they managed to get her on board and sat her down next to Caroline.
‘My gown,’ she said anxiously. ‘I can’t go ashore like this.’
‘It’s all right, Caroline. I rescued a gown from your makeshift flagpole, and the
other one was on the floor of the hut.’ Raven tossed the garments to Phineas. ‘Ready to cast off?’
‘Yes, all aboard safely.’ Phineas passed the dresses to Caroline. ‘I wouldn’t worry about what your mother would say. You look quite charming.’
‘A gentleman would pretend he hadn’t seen me in such an embarrassing situation.’ She grabbed the gown and slipped it over her head before turning her attention to Grace.
‘I’m a Colville,’ he said drily. ‘You’ve made your opinion of me and my family crystal clear.’
Freddie moved aside to make room for Raven as he leaped onto the deck. ‘This is like old times, Raven. We used to come over to Bear Island all the time when we were boys. It’s good to have you home.’
‘I won’t be staying much longer,’ Raven said casually.
‘But the Abbey still belongs to you.’
‘It’s yours for your lifetime. I don’t think I could ever settle down to the life of a landed gentleman. You handle such matters much better than I do.’ Raven slapped him on the shoulder. ‘We’ll talk about it over dinner this evening.’
Caroline cleared her throat. ‘Excuse me, gentlemen. Aren’t you forgetting something? Grace is poorly and I haven’t eaten since noon yesterday.’
Freddie’s face crumpled with concern. ‘Poor Graziella. Don’t worry, Carrie, she’ll have the best possible care when we get her home. I’ll make sure of that.’
‘I should think so, too.’ Caroline’s attempt at a smile faded when she spotted her stays lying on the deck, and she whisked them up, placed them on the seat next to Grace and sat on them.
Phineas was at the wheel during the short trip to the harbour and, although she knew she owed him an apology, Caroline could not bring herself to speak to him. The insulting words had tumbled from her lips for no apparent reason, and it would have been easy to blame the alcohol, but she knew that was a half-truth. Deep down she still believed that Phineas was responsible for the collapse of her parents’ business, and that his demands for repayment of the loan had contributed to her father’s early demise. She glanced at him occasionally, wondering why he had chosen to accompany Raven and Freddie to Devon. She found it hard to believe that he had travelled all this way because he was worried about her personal safety, and she suspected his motive might have something to do with his proposed half-share in the Esther Manning. If he had changed his mind it would prove disastrous. She looked away, wishing she had held her tongue.
