That got Andrew’s curiosity aroused. “What sort of wreck is it sir?” he asked.
“My friends were a bit guarded,” Sub Lt Sheldon replied. “It is only a small steel ship and is in quite shallow water. They say it might be the wreck of a trawler or something like that.”
That didn’t sound too hopeful to Andrew, who had immediately begun to speculate that the wreck might be the Merinda. “Do they know its name Sir?” he asked.
Sub Lt Sheldon shook his head. “No. They are diving on it this weekend and will try to identify it. I will phone them on Sunday evening to get the details. So, who do I make bookings for?”
This time Andrew’s mother nodded. “Yes, alright. But only if they do the wreck dive in shallow water and on one of these small wrecks.”
On hearing that Andrew felt his stomach churn with fear but he could only give what he was sure was a sickly grin in answer to Carmen’s delighted cries and Muriel’s happy smile. ‘Maybe it will be cancelled by bad weather,’ he thought, now clutching at straws and knowing it. Inside he despised himself for being a coward and a weakling, but he could not bring himself to admit to Muriel that he was scared.
Sub Lt Sheldon agreed that they would only dive on one of the safer wrecks, then Andrew’s mother said, “Well, come on children. Time for bed.”
Being called a child in front of Muriel was embarrassing but Andrew was so taken up with her that he could only grin. “Goodnight,” he said, trying to add meaning with his eyes.
“See you tomorrow,” Muriel whispered back, her sultry voice fuelling Andrew’s hopes.
Reluctantly the two parted. Andrew kept glancing across at Muriel as they walked out to their respective cars. ‘I wish we were staying together tonight,’ he thought, then blushed at the lust and wickedness of his own thoughts.
These stayed with him to give him heated fantasies at home before he dropped off to sleep, then to trouble his rest. Dreams of Muriel were inter-twined with nightmares about diving. One moment he would be wrapped in her arms in a passionate embrace, the next he would be trapped under water and gripped by the tentacles of a giant octopus that had slid out of the murky interior of a wreck to grab him. The slimy creature then began to suck so hard that he felt his body was being torn apart.
The dreams left him tired but excited when he woke. Then, as realization that he was soon going to be with Muriel dawned, Andrew’s spirits lifted and he sprang out of bed full of life and happiness. But it was not to be, yet. First there were the household chores. Andrew had to do his share and this kept him busy for the next three hours: mowing, washing the dog, weeding a garden, trimming some crotons, and helping his mother hang out the washing. Only after lunch was he able to get ready.
Mrs Collins drove Carmen and Andrew down to the Yacht Club, towing their catamaran behind the family car. Waiting for them there were Shona and Blake. Jennifer was to travel with Muriel in her mother’s car. After the usual motherly warnings to be careful and to avoid getting sunburnt and so on Mrs Collins helped them launch the cat, then left them to it. The cat was quickly rigged, the gear stowed and secured, then the voyage begun.
It was a lovely North Queensland ‘winter’ day, not a cloud in the sky and just cold enough to want a jacket of some sort. The waters of the Inlet were calm and there was barely enough wind. As it was the catamaran just slipped quietly along with a pleasant rippling sound, their speed just above a walking pace.
The slow progress got Andrew all impatient but knowing that he was now an able seaman made him content. He was cheered by soon having their objective in sight and growing steadily closer. The houses at Giangurra and Bosuns Bay were lit up by the afternoon sun and looked very attractive, set as they were among the trees above the shore. Navigation presented no difficulty and it was only the relative lack of wind that caused Andrew to fret.
The catamaran rounded the rocky point of Bosuns Bay just after 3:00pm. Carmen had the tiller and she conned the cat into the bay in two easy tacks, ending on the beach right near where the rusty rails of the slipway led down out of the old boathouse.
By then Muriel and Jennifer had run down, waving and calling out greetings. Muriel wore tight white shorts and a green T-shirt. The white shorts set off her shapely, tanned legs to perfection. Seeing that, plus Muriel’s bright and welcoming smile, got Andrew’s spirits up and he became quite excited.
Muriel pointed up to the house as they stepped ashore. “You are just in time for afternoon tea. Grab your gear and come on up.”
“What about the boat?” Carmen asked.
“Just drag it up the beach,” Muriel answered.
They grouped around the catamaran and, on Carmen’s command, lifted and carried the catamaran well up past the high tide line. The anchor rope was secured to one of the large trees which overhung the beach at that point and then the sails lowered and furled. Only when Carmen was satisfied that the cat was secured properly and all ship-shape did she allow them to leave. After the luggage was unloaded the friends set off up the short driveway in a group.
Muriel led the way past the side of the boathouse and then up the concrete steps beside it to the terraced garden. As they went up the steps Andrew followed her and was granted tantalising close-ups of her thighs and bum. It embarrassed him and he pretended not to be looking but found it hard not to. It also had the effect of starting to make him become aroused. The immediate consequence was feeling guilty and ashamed when he found himself saying hello to Muriel’s mother and grandmother on the patio at the top of the next set of steps.
Andrew had been hoping to have a chance to talk to Old Mr Murchison about the sinking of the Deeral so was mildly disappointed not to see the old man. As he seated himself in one of the cane chairs facing out to sea he asked politely if he was well.
Grandma Murchison nodded and answered. “Yes dearie. He’s just having his afternoon nap. You will meet him at tea time.”
Afternoon tea was delicious: freshly baked pumpkin scones, hot and spread with melting butter; cordial and fruit juice, biscuits and nuts. Andrew was content to sit quietly and listen, while frequently glancing at Muriel and admiring her beauty. She responded by granting him numerous smiles, sending his hopes even higher.
“What do we do now?” Carmen asked as the afternoon tea things were gathered and carried into the kitchen.
“Games,” Muriel answered. She pointed out onto the terraced back garden. “Shuttlecock to begin with.”
Andrew gestured inside. “I’ll just go to the toilet first.”
“I need to go too,” Muriel replied. They both stood up. Andrew noted knowing smirks on the faces of Blake and Shona and that made him blush. Muriel led Andrew along the passageway into the house. On one side was a kitchen and dining room. On the right were a bathroom and toilet. The pair stopped in the alcove. “You go first,” Muriel said.
As she did Andrew met her eyes. He had stopped close behind her and now found her proximity exciting. He smiled and she smiled back and then glanced back along the passageway. Both moved towards each other. Andrew leaned forward to kiss her even as his arms went to her waist. Hers slid around his neck and their lips met. Muriel kissed with such intensity that Andrew felt quite stunned and overwhelmed. She squirmed and her breathing through her nose was loud in his ear.
When they drew apart Andrew felt quite breathless and could only gasp and stare into her eyes in wonder. Her eyes sparkled and she smiled in a way that made his heart turn over with hope and lust. “I’ve been wanting that all week,” she said.
They kissed again but quickly stopped and drew apart when footsteps sounded in the passageway. It was Carmen. She gave them a wry smile and said, “Hurry up you two. We want to start.”
Feeling somewhat embarrassed Andrew hurried into the toilet. Muriel was waiting with Carmen so he did not linger. After he came out he made his way back out to the patio. By then the others were down on the back lawn setting up a net between two posts. Shuttlecock was not a game that particularly appealed to And
rew but he was willing to play almost any game if Muriel wanted him to. So for the next half hour he was an enthusiastic, if not particularly skilful, player.
Wiping sweat from her face Carmen asked, “What about a drink and then playing something else?”
“Good idea,” Muriel agreed. “We will play Hide-and-seek.”
That sounded like a very good idea to Andrew as it offered the possibility of being alone with Muriel. She obviously thought so too as she kept giving him impish glances and giggling. Cold cordial was drunk and then Muriel laid down the rules.
“No hiding in the upstairs. Grandad isn’t well and we must not disturb him. No going off into the bush. You can hide anywhere in the garden and this side of the creek, anywhere downstairs and in the boatshed. I am in, so start running. One.. two... three.”
Andrew followed the general rush down the steps beside the boatshed. At the bottom he hesitated. A glance at the bushes and rocks lining the creek on the other side of the driveway tempted him but then he decided that the boatshed was a better option. There was a door right beside him at the bottom of the steps so he turned the handle. To his relief it was unlocked. Equally obviously it had not been opened recently as it was hard to open, the door squeaking on rusty hinges.
Inside it was almost completely dark except for a strip of sunlight coming in under the front doors. Andrew stepped inside and carefully pushed the door closed, then stood with his back to it to allow his eyes time to adjust to the dark. As they did he made out the dark bulk of a boat sitting in a cradle on the slipway. On shelves along the sides were stacked all sorts of oddments: coils of rope, oars, boxes, tools, bundles of canvas.
The boat held Andrew’s attention. It was a motor cabin cruiser but of an old-fashioned design. The hull was varnished marine plywood and the small cabin some sort of polished dark wood. The propellers were green with verdigris and there were a few streaks of rust at the stern glands. It had obviously been a luxury boat in its day, but equally obviously had not been in the water for a long time. With a slight sense of regret Andrew gently stroked the smooth, varnished plywood and shook his head on seeing where a timber strake had begun to split.
“What a great boat,” Andrew muttered, climbing under the stern to study the hull form. Then he stood and looked around for a place to hide. Along the landward end of the shed were more shelves and stacks of old plywood tea chests. These were dry and cracked with age and were stuffed to overflowing with assorted nautical items: sails, lanterns, ropes, turnbuckles, paddles and so forth. More oars were hung from the wall, along with various spars and booms. Rotten rope was coiled and hung up all along the far wall and there was an untidy litter of tools and off-cuts of timber among the greasy dust of the floor.
Among the objects festooning the far wall Andrew noticed an old-fashioned lifebuoy. It was of the circular variety and had once been painted red and white. A rope was looped around the outside for people to cling to and it was by one of these loops that it was hung on the wall. Intrigued Andrew moved towards it, wishing to read the name of the vessel it came from, the smudgy letters being just visible through layers of mildew, dust and cobwebs.
However, as he reached forward to wipe away the closest cobwebs the side door was suddenly pulled open and he remembered he was supposed to be playing hide-and-seek, not exploring. Thinking that the boat on its cradle might hide him he crouched down- but to no avail.
Muriel’s voice came to him, “I see you!” She laughed and made her way in past the stern of the launch. “I thought I might find you in here,” she said.
“Am I that predictable?” Andrew asked. He felt slightly peeved at her saying that.
Again Muriel laughed. “All men are,” she murmured, stepping closer and fixing his eyes with hers. Sensing what she wanted Andrew stepped closer and put out his arms. A moment later they were in a passionate embrace. To Andrew it was wonderful. He gripped her to him and kissed, enjoying the feel of her against him, the sweet scents, the taste, the sheer stimulating pleasure of her body against his.
One result was that he became very aroused. As he pressed against her he began to worry lest she think it was all he wanted. No wanting to offend or give the wrong message he tried to ease back but she gripped him even tighter and gently writhed her body against his. That had the effect like a volcanic eruption in the top of his head. His senses swam and his heart hammered as he became even more excited.
His hands slid up and down her back and he relished the feel of them moving over the curve of her hips and buttocks. After several more kisses his mind began to speculate on whether she would mind if he touched her breasts. It was now something he urgently desired to do. He could feel them pressing against his chest and when he and she drew apart he could see them moving up and down inside her T-shirt as she breathed.
By then both were panting and hot and Andrew nerved himself to make an attempt. But fear all but paralyzed him. ‘If she doesn’t approve I will be in trouble,’ he reasoned. Fear held his attempt to a few tentative strokes of her sides.
Then, just as he steeled himself to make the attempt, another shadow partially blocked the doorway. Andrew snatched back his hand as though it was red hot as the person who had entered made their way across the top end of the boatshed. ‘I hope it isn’t her mother!’ Andrew thought. Then an even more worrying thought came to him:- what if it is her dad!
CHAPTER 13
BY MOONLIGHT
Andrew released Muriel, and she him, just as a head poked around the bow of the launch. To Andrew’s relief it was Jennifer. “Stop that you two!” she called, her face alight with laughter. “We are playing hide-and-seek, not catch-and-kiss!”
Muriel giggled and called back, “It can be, if you want that.”
Jennifer shook her head. “Nah! There isn’t a boy here that I fancy, not one that isn’t already taken anyway,” she replied.
Andrew felt Muriel stiffen and supposed that she had drawn the same conclusion as him; that he was worth chasing. ‘Surely she doesn’t mean me,’ he thought. ‘She must mean Blake.’ He had always admired Jennifer for her beauty and grace but had never dared to think of trying to win her affection. Now he feared that she had made Muriel jealous.
Muriel sounded annoyed. “You are supposed to be hiding and I am in. So start running,” she snapped back at Jennifer.
Jennifer stopped smiling at the tone of voice used to her and nodded, then turned and hurried away. Muriel started after her, then gestured to Andrew. “Come on Andrew, follow.”
“Yes, just a minute,” Andrew replied. His eye had again caught the old lifebuoy and his curiosity was aroused. He stepped towards it.
Muriel frowned and called again. “Never mind that old rubbish. The house is full of it. Let’s catch Jennifer and the others.”
Despite that Andrew leaned closer and brushed more cobwebs aside. As he did his eyes made out the faint letter ‘C’. That quickened his interest. Ignoring Muriel’s calls he gently traced the other letters, noting as he did that the lifebuoy was covered in rotten fabric, some sort of thick canvas. Through the holes in the painted cloth he could make out that the lifebuoy was made of cork. That was interesting to him as modern lifebuoys were either polystyrene or plastic. The painted cloth was stiff but now very brittle and when he tried to lift the lifebuoy off its hook it began to tear. Very carefully he replaced it on the hook and bent closer.
As his eyes made out the lettering his interest grew. ‘Yes!’ he thought happily. On the two white sections of the cloth were painted the words
DEERAL
CAIRNS
‘This must be the lifebuoy Old Mr Murchison survived in,’ he thought. It was then borne upon his consciousness that Muriel was sounding cross so he turned and started towards the door, thinking that he must ask the old man when he got the chance.
That ambition was quickly forgotten though as chasing after Muriel was more important. Just watching her lithe form running with athletic grace was enough to divert his thoughts and
his admiration grew. ‘She is really beautiful!’ he marvelled.
As they ran he now saw the creek that she had referred to and it amazed him that he had not noticed earlier. From the other side of the road beside the door of the boathouse the ground sloped gently off into scrubby, dry bush to where thicker, darker vegetation indicated a watercourse. Now Andrew saw that the creek line was about fifty metres from the house but that it angled closer to it further up the slope. As no obvious stream mouth was visible on the beach he was still puzzled but, on arriving there, he saw that no water was actually flowing across the beach. A bar of sand blocked it and overhanging branches effectively concealed the stream bed beyond it.
Jennifer had attempted to hide behind some large rocks near the other side of the stream but in running along the beach had left a clear set of fresh footprints. Muriel pointed to them and laughed, then said, “I don’t think Our Man Friday made these.”
She then ran long the tracks to the rock. As Andrew followed he had vivid flashbacks to being on Endeavour Island in April. The images of nudity, sex and the violence of the crooks all caused him uncomfortable thoughts. Seeing Jennifer’s laughing face helped banish these. For a minute the friends stood and talked, then Muriel looked around and set off back to where the catamaran lay on the top of the beach.
“Gotcha!” she shrieked. Carmen’s face appeared and she was all smiles as well as both Muriel and Andrew had run past within a couple of paces and had not seen her.
Once again Muriel looked around. “Now only Shona and Blake to find,” she said.
“They will be together,” Andrew commented.
“Then we had better hurry to save them from doing things they shouldn’t oughta,” Jennifer added.
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