by Chris Vick
‘So sorry to keep you, officer.’ Pete Lancaster’s voice filled the room like smooth music. He was dressed in smart trousers and a nice shirt, but his hair was wet. He was carrying a towel. ‘Just in the shower when you arrived. Please don’t get up.’ He put the towel on the table, shook the policeman’s hand and sat down.
‘I’m Sergeant Junkett,’ said the policeman. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’
‘Why? Am I in trouble?’ Pete Lancaster forced a laugh. Jake turned round, and looked at Hannah’s dad. He was how he always was. Polite. In control. ‘Is this about the whale rescue? I know it’s an inconvenience to you. Especially now with this storm coming. But let me assure you, Hannah knows what she is doing.’
‘No, Mr Lancaster. It’s about a boat.’
Something about a boat.
No, Jake thought. Couldn’t be. Not possible.
Pete Lancaster’s grin froze on his face. Was that water running down his forehead. Or sweat? His face was ash-grey, his eyes red-rimmed.
Sergeant Junkett checked his notebook. ‘A yacht, PZ 498, name of Pandora. It belongs to you?’
The knife clanged on the floor. Everyone stared at Jake.
‘Sorry,’ he whispered. He picked the knife up and wiped it with a cloth. This wasn’t going into Jake’s head. He wanted to sit down, to get out of there. To laugh. To shout: What the hell? Instead, he turned to the wall and buttered another slice of bread. Buying time while he took this in. Hannah’s dad. International coke dealer.
Nope. Wasn’t computing.
Sergeant Junkett carried on. ‘You haven’t registered it as missing, or having been involved in any incident.’
‘No. She’s moored up the coast,’ said Lancaster.
‘I’m afraid to say it’s been found, sunk just offshore. In a little cove not far from here. Found by some dog-walker, apparently. The yacht’s not in a good state. Got a great big hole in its side. You all right, sir?’
‘Yes – no. I mean, Pandora? She’s my favourite. I’m a little … slightly shocked by this news.’
Jake couldn’t help but turn and stare at Lancaster in wide-eyed horror. Yeah, he thought, I bet you are. Pete Lancaster. A bloody coke runner. And he was about to get busted.
‘She’s worth a lot of money, you see,’ Lancaster gabbled. ‘And … did you say, apparently?’
‘I don’t get your drift, Mr Lancaster,’ said the sergeant.
‘You said Pandora was found by a dog-walker, apparently. You, the police, haven’t examined her to, er, assess the damage?’ Lancaster’s eyes were darting, searching Sergeant Junkett’s face. Jake thought of the blue crate. Of the bags Goofy had thrown away. Were they still floating about in the cove somewhere, or had all evidence been washed away by the tide?
‘No, sir. It’s just been reported, that’s all. We don’t need to look at it. It’s our responsibility to inform you, and find out if any crime has been committed. However, the responsibility of salvage or reclamation is yours. There’ll be a few forms of course, for your insurance. You do have insurance?’
‘Yes, of course.’
The bastard was smiling. Actually smiling.
‘Have you any idea how this happened, officer? Was she stolen?’
Lancaster had turned the tables. Now he was the one asking the questions. ‘Perhaps she lost mooring in the storm, and was swept out to sea. I’m surprised the harbourmaster didn’t report it.’ Then he clicked his fingers, like all this was suddenly making sense. ‘He probably assumed one of my crew had moved it to a safer harbour. That was the plan, you see. I wish we had, now.’
‘My God. Pandora. I adore her. Pete, this is awful.’ Ellie put her hands on her husband’s shoulders and rubbed them. He patted her hand. ‘Will you be able to rescue her?’ she said.
‘It’s hard to say, darling, without taking a good look. We’ll have to wait till the storms have passed. It might be easiest to get her to Hope Cove.’
‘Pardon, sir?’ said Sergeant Junkett.
‘Hope Cove. There’s a small harbour there, with a slipway.’
Sergeant Junkett’s eyes narrowed. ‘I didn’t tell you where the boat was, Mr Lancaster.’
Right, thought Jake. Let’s see you worm your way out of this one.
‘Do you know this coast well, Sergeant?’ said Lancaster.
‘Not especially. Not more than the beaches.’
‘I do. There aren’t too many small, rocky coves near here. There’s only one or two where it could be. They are both near Hope Cove. Thank you so much for coming and telling me this news. Now, if there’s nothing else, we need to help our daughter prepare for this whale rescue.’ He stood and gestured to the door.
Sergeant Junkett was shown the door by Lancaster.
Hannah and her mum set to making sandwiches, chatting away about Pandora. All the wonderful picnics they’d had. The fishing trips. The trips to the Scillies.
Jake stood with the butter knife in his hand, staring at the door. Lancaster returned. He clocked Jake, staring.
‘Are you all right, Jake? You look a bit shell-shocked. Don’t worry, man. It’s only a boat. It’s not that big a deal. Trust me.’
Pete Lancaster walked out of the kitchen.
Hannah
HANNAH NUDGED JAKE in the ribs.
‘Let’s tell Mum and Dad,’ she whispered. ‘About the money. About how it was you that got it. Wait till Dad hears that.’
Jake shook his head and indicated the ceiling with his eyes: Let’s talk upstairs.
They left Mum to finish making the sandwiches.
*
In the bedroom, Jake carefully shut the door.
She flung her arms round him. Kissed his neck, his face. She waited for him to kiss her back. To cover her in kisses. She needed that, she needed to drown in his warmth. Just for a few minutes. Before she went back to the world, and faced everything.
He didn’t kiss her. He didn’t speak.
‘It’s really awful about Pandora,’ she said. ‘But the rescue is happening and you’ve got the money. It’s going to be okay, isn’t it? We’ll get Little One safe out to sea, then we’ll be off to Hawaii. You and me.’ She brushed his skin with her lips, taking in the scent of him. Earth and leather. ‘Tell me that’s what’s going to happen, Jake, I need to hear it.’ She waited for his hands to gather round her.
He held her, but his hug was rigid and stiff. She pushed herself against him. Wanting to bury herself in him.
‘Great about the money,’ she said, kissing him again. ‘Something going right, at least. I want to tell Dad. Can you imagine his—’
‘No!’ Jake stood back from her. ‘Don’t do that. Whatever you do, don’t do that.’
‘Oh, um, okay.’ She took a breath. ‘Why not?’
He shook his head. He sat on the bed and put his head in his hands.
‘Jake. What’s up? Why are you being like this? I thought you said you had the money?’
‘I have. Some.’ He reached in his jacket, and threw the plastic wallet on to the bed. ‘A good chunk of it, any case.’
She picked it up, and took some out. Notes; crisp and dry. Each one was just a slip of paper, but together, they were power. The power to make a dream come true. They could pay for the rescue. Couldn’t they? She wasn’t sure. Jake was being weird.
‘Is there a problem with the rest?’ she said.
‘No. I’ll get it. Soon as I can. You can be sure of that.’
‘So this is from the family? Or has Goofy lent you more?’ She pushed the handful of notes at him. He glanced at the money, then at her, then out of the window.
She sat down next to him, and kissed his cheek. He didn’t respond. It was like kissing a statue. When she put a hand on the back of his neck it was cold, and damp.
‘Jake. What’s the matter? What’s going on?’
He shook his head. ‘I can’t tell you.’
The atmosphere between them was cold and strange. And new.
‘But we tell each other
everything,’ she said.
‘Oh God, Hannah. Oh God.’ He rubbed his eyes. He looked heavy and sad, like he might cry. Jake, cry? Impossible. Worse, he looked really afraid. She ran her fingers through his hair.
‘What’s eating you?’
‘I can’t say. Not now.’
Hannah took her hand away. He turned then to look at her.
‘Do you trust me?’ he said.
‘Of course I trust you. I love you.’
‘Then trust me in this. Don’t ask. Please, just don’t ask.’
‘If you trust me, then you’ll tell me. Everything.’
He laughed, bitterly. ‘You wouldn’t believe me.’
He got up and went to stand by the window, sighing heavily, leaning on the sill.
Hannah stayed where she was. She was being kind, being patient. Perfect Hannah Lancaster. And trying to ignore the anger burning slowly inside her. Selfish as it might be, she needed Jake now. Strong Jake. Kind Jake. Who wasn’t distracted like Dad or cynical like Steve.
He got his phone out of his pocket and started typing in a text.
‘What are you doing? Who are you texting?’ she said.
‘No one.’
‘Jake!’ He looked up.
‘All right. Okay. I’m texting Goofy, if you must know.’
‘Why? Is he helping with the money?’
‘Kind of. What’s with all the questions? I said you have to trust me.’
She felt bad. For feeling suspicious. Then she felt bad for feeling bad. Jake was the one being shifty and strange.
Jake carried on texting.
She picked up her own phone. No text from the rescue site. But there was one from Phoebe. She read it. Three times.
‘Jake.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Who do you know with a red sports Audi? A girl.’
He looked up. Was that why he’d looked afraid?
‘It’s not what you think,’ he said.
‘What do I think?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Who is she?’
‘Ned’s girlfriend.’
‘Ned, who you’ve been helping make surfboards?’
‘Yes.’
‘But Sue’s his girlfriend. She’s lovely.’
‘She’s not his girlfriend any more.’
‘Why were you in the girl’s car?’
‘I can’t tell you. Look, I might have to go and see Goofy.’
‘Don’t change the subject. Jake. Why were you in her car?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘You have to.’
‘No. I really don’t. You wouldn’t thank me.’
‘Jake!’ Hannah stood up. ‘I need you. Now. Do you understand? The TV thing. The rescue equipment … It’s a lot. I don’t know if I can cope alone. It’s going to be a long night. We need to get the trench dug out by high tide. I don’t know up from down. I need you here. And I need you to be honest. Why were you in the car?’ She stood, folded her arms, hugging herself. ‘Can you just …’ She felt the tears rising, the choke in her voice.
He came to her and held her. He lifted her chin with his fingers, so she had to look at him. ‘Listen, Hannah, it’s important you get this. I am not messing around with another girl.’
‘I didn’t say you were.’
‘But you thought it.’ She tried to look away. He pushed her face back to his. ‘Yeah?’
‘No. I don’t know. Maybe.’
‘There are good reasons I can’t tell you what’s going on. Believe me I am protecting you. But I am not messing around with another girl.’
‘Why can’t you tell me, then? Are you in trouble?’
He sighed, and thought about his answer. ‘No … look, no more questions. Just trust me.’
She didn’t know what to think; what to believe. Jake seemed to be struggling with the weight of something. She wanted to know, deserved to know. But yes, she did trust him. She knew he wasn’t messing around behind her back. No matter what history he had. No matter that Bess and Phoebe wouldn’t believe it. They didn’t know him.
‘Okay.’ She nodded.
‘Goofy can come down. We’ll get stuck into that trench. Feel that.’ He took her hand and placed it on his bicep. ‘Years of surfing. Good training. Reckon I can shift a lot of sand in one night. It’s all going to be okay. I promise. Let’s just get through the next couple of days, shall we?’
He squeezed her tight, and kissed her lips. She felt his stubble on her skin. The wetness of his tongue exploring her lips. And he was there, against her leg, wanting her.
‘We have to go, Jake.’
‘You’re the best, you know that?’
‘I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
He put his arm round her waist, pulling her tight.
She wriggled away and opened the door.
‘Come on,’ she said, ‘I have to go.’ It seemed best to get back into the kitchen.
‘What have you been up to?’ said Mum. ‘Everything’s ready. Let’s load up the Range Rover.’ She grabbed the keys off a hook on the wall and threw them to Jake.
‘Is Dad coming?’ said Hannah.
‘No, he’s expecting someone. Business.’
Jake left. Hannah and her mother began carrying the hampers and boxes.
On the second round, she saw someone standing at the door. It was Rocky. One of Dad’s men. He was called Rocky because his face was carved with deep lines. He wasn’t old, he just had a lined face. Craggy and weather-beaten.
‘Hi, Rocky,’ Hannah said. Rocky nodded. Unsmiling. He never smiled. ‘You here about Pandora?’
‘Yes. Where’s your dad?’
‘In his study, I think. We’re doing the whale rescue,’ Hannah said. ‘We’re taking all this down to the beach. Wanna help?’
‘No, I need to talk to your father.’ He entered, and walked off to Dad’s study.
Jake pulled up in the Range Rover and got out. His face was white in the darkness. When he came closer, she saw he was sweating. He peered in, checking to see they were alone.
‘Who was that?’ said Jake.
‘Rocky. He works for Dad. Why?’
‘I’ve got to go and get my bike. I’ll see you at the beach.’
‘Jake, the rescue!’
The stranger-like Jake walked into the shadows, then started running.
PART FOUR
STORMS
www.Eye-Sea-Surfcheck.com
Forecast
Winds: off the scale
Conditions: horrendous
Waves: mountains
Stay out of the water. Stay indoors.
If you don’t know what’s coming, where have you been?
Seriously, folks, it’s gonna get rough.
Jake
JAKE CYCLED SO fast, his legs sang with pain.
Goofy was down at his boathouse in Perran Cove. A lock-up where he mended engines and small fishing boats. The double doors were jammed open. Jake jumped off his bike and let it fall to the floor with the wheels still spinning.
A bare light bulb shone over the fuel cans, workbenches and tins of paint. Goofy was rummaging in the shadows, yanking at a rope.
‘Loading up the van. All to help with the rescue, like. I got bags for sand, spades, shovels.’
‘Did you get my text?’ Jake panted.
‘I know, man. I can’t believe it.’
‘You don’t seem that surprised. Lancaster. A bloody coke dealer!’
‘Yeah, well, you can’t exactly judge him for it, can you?’ said Goofy, walking into the light, carrying the rope.
‘What?’
‘Er, pot and kettle? Anyways. You are sure?’ He carried the rope out, and threw it in the back of the van. ‘It’s possible the yacht was nicked to use for a coke run. That happens.’
‘No. He was crapping himself when the copper told him. And … Crag-face. The surfer I saw, that morning, when I found the stuff. He works for Hannah’s dad. He’s at their house,
right now.’
‘Really?’ Goofy stopped still, thinking. ‘Hang on, you don’t mean Rocky? He’s a surfer.’
‘You know him!’
‘I know exactly who he is. I just hadn’t put two and two together, like. I’d never have guessed he was dodgy. I’m sure he wasn’t one of the men we saw down the cove.’
‘No, but he was the one who discovered the boat, and saw me the morning when I found the stuff.’ Jake was breathing fast, hands on hips. He leant over, and put his hands on his knees. ‘What if he saw me at Lancaster’s? Shit, Goofy. Shit.’
Goofy put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Even if Rocky clocked it was you that morning, Lancaster’s not going to suspect you’ve got his cocaine, is he? He just knows it’s missing. Probably shitting himself that there might still be evidence on the boat.’
‘The police haven’t looked the boat over. They just told him about it.’ Goofy slapped Jake gently on the cheek. ‘Pull yerself together, dude. Relax.’
‘Okay, okay. What now?’
‘I guess you haven’t told Hannah her dad’s the local coke baron?’ Goofy laughed, going back into the lock-up and picking up a shovel.
‘Nah. It would destroy her. Not sure she’d believe it, any case. Not sure I can believe it myself.’
Goofy swung the shovel around as he talked. ‘What do you think a coke dealer looks like, Jakey? I don’t mean fools like Ned, I mean the ones that sell to rich people. The ones that shift it from one country to another. They’re at those sailing clubs, posh restaurants and hotels, you know. What’s the difference between them and guys driving Jags and building marinas anyway? Sometimes they’re the same people. Wass the diff, morally, between dealing coke and lending money to people who can’t afford it, like banks do? Big business is big business, legal or not. The ink on banknotes is mixed with blood. That’s the world.’
‘Right anarchist, aren’t you?’
Goofy punched the air with the shovel. ‘Power to the people.’
Jake laughed. ‘How do you think Lancaster got involved?’
Goofy talked as he worked. ‘Let’s say he’s in the Caribbean for his hols keeping up the pretence, like. But really, he’s total desperado for some dosh. He’s had a few rum and Cokes. Who knows who he’s talking to, who he meets? Someone makes him an offer. Some blokes fit his yacht out. Back this side of the ocean, their UK contacts take the stuff off. Alternatively, the Pandora is used to pick stuff up offshore. That’s common. It comes back in, he’s known locally, so no one gets suspicious. He’d have got away with it easy too. Wasn’t planning on the storm, was he?’
