‘I don’t want to go to a boring bookshop,’ Jude snapped rudely.
‘And I don’t want to go to another boring sailing shop,’ Jess said with feeling. ‘How about we split up? Kill two birds. You get the cash while I go see if I can find Castle of Secrets. I’ll meet you back here at one p.m.’
She borrowed a pen from the surf shop opposite and wrote Gabe’s PIN number on the restaurant receipt. By chance, Gabe had given her his code in the Cayman Islands when he was dealing with the sail tear and needed quick cash from the ATM.
‘It’s his grandma’s birthday: November first. Just remember that his grandma was British. Put the day before the month like they do, not the other way around like we do in the US: zero one; one one. Three ones and a zero. Easy as pie.’
‘Day before the month. Got it.’
Jude took the scrap of paper, shoved it in his pocket, and veered off to gaze longingly at some offshore salopettes in the window of a sailing shop. ‘I think I might buy myself some of these. You should get a pair too. They’re extra-long thermal, technical trousers. We’ll need them when we head out into the open ocean.’
Jess felt a twinge of dread at the thought of You Gotta Friend tackling the Atlantic or Southern Oceans. She’d seen the YouTube videos. Yachts riding up the faces of skyscraper waves and teetering at the top before plunging into a watery valley of doom. To Jess, the sailors who survived and even relished those conditions seemed to be another breed entirely.
On closer inspection, the salopettes were outrageously expensive.
‘Jude, are you nuts? Look at the price of them. We’re not here for a shopping spree. If we run out of cash, we’ll be stuck.’
‘There’s fifteen thousand dollars in Gabe’s bank account,’ Jude reminded her. ‘It won’t last forever, but it’s a lot. And if nobody knows he’s passed, whoever’s giving him a thousand dollars each month might keep sending it forever.’
‘And what if they don’t?’ Jess asked heatedly. ‘We can’t just spend it like we’ve won the lottery.’
‘How is that fair? You’re getting load of books.’
In Jess’s opinion, a few mystery novels did not remotely compare to splashing the cash on sailing gear that cost as much as the Castaway waitresses earned in a month, but she bit back a comment and promptly decided to treat herself to ten novels.
Still, her brother had a point. ‘Sorry, Jude. You have as much right as I do to decide how we spend Gabe’s money. You’re our skipper. If you think the salopettes will help us in colder waters, let’s buy some.’
A shadow-boxing reflection suddenly flickered in the window.
Jess spun round, heart hammering. No one was there.
‘What is it?’ Jude stared worriedly at her. ‘Jess, what did you see?’
‘It’s nothing. Just my imagination.’
But the unwelcome reminder of the boatyard incident with Gabe and the aggressive stranger had sapped the innocent delight from Jess’s day. Even the bookshop had lost its appeal. She debated whether to go with Jude to the bank for safety’s sake, but told herself she was being silly.
Her twin hesitated. ‘Come with me. I don’t like leaving you alone.’
‘Jude, relax. I’m fine. Just get the most cash possible out of the ATM. I don’t want to come here again.’
On his own, Jude became increasingly agitated. It was unlike Jess to be so jumpy. Something had scared the wits out of her.
It didn’t help that, minutes after leaving her, he glimpsed the couple who’d grilled him on his life story on Tortola. They recognized him and waved. Jude pretended not to see them and shot through a beach-wear shop and out the other side.
The quicker he and Jess left Leverick Bay, the better. He’d run to the ATM, then join Jess in the bookshop. That way, at least he’d know she was safe.
He didn’t count on eighteen cruise-ship passengers also needing the ATM.
Jude was tempted to give up, but then he and Jess would only have to return another day. It’s not as if ATMs grow on palm trees, he chided himself.
As he itched and sweated in line, some instinct made him glance up. On a hotel balcony high above, a man in mirror shades was staring down at him, talking into his phone. Slung over his shoulder was a long-lens camera.
Hunter was the word that flashed into Jude’s brain. He and Jess had dropped their guard. They’d forgotten they were being hunted, and that the same person who might have brought about Gabe’s demise could have tracked them to Leverick Bay.
‘Your turn,’ prompted a woman in a billowing cerise shirt.
‘Thanks, sorry.’ Jude fumbled for the receipt with the PIN number on in his pocket. It wasn’t there. He turned his pocket inside out, but there was nothing but tissue fluff.
‘We haven’t got all day, son,’ said a man clutching the hand of a child with a dripping ice cream.
Maths was Jude’s best subject. Normally, numbers were his strength. But the pressure of everyone staring at him had sucked the PIN code right out of his head.
At the last second, he recalled Jess talking about Gabe’s grandma’s birthday: ‘Three ones and a zero. Easy as pie.’ Relieved, he tapped in 1110.
The card was declined.
Jude was livid with himself. He’d forgotten that the day part of the number came before the month. 0111. As he re-entered the code, someone’s phone burst into song, making him jump and hit the 2 on the keypad. Involuntarily, he glanced up at the balcony. Mirror-glasses man was gone.
The ATM beeped. The card had been refused again. Jude made a third attempt – 0111. As he pressed enter, he remembered that Gabe’s grandmother’s birthday was on the tenth of November, not the first. He should have put in 1011.
It was too late. The machine burped like a hungry toad and swallowed Gabe’s card. Jude tried to grab it but it was gone. He stared at the card slot in numb disbelief.
‘What a pain,’ said the woman behind him. ‘You must have entered the wrong PIN too many times. I’ve done it myself. Nightmare if you’re island-hopping.’
‘What do you mean? How do I get it back?’
‘You don’t. Your bank will have to issue a new credit card and PIN number. Those get posted to the address where the card’s registered. If your house is on the other side of the world, someone you trust will have to courier it to you. Hey, don’t look so anxious. Mistakes happen. Your parents will sort it out.’
‘Any chance you can review your banking arrangements someplace else?’ grumbled the man with the ice-cream-coated child. ‘Some of us want to get on with our day.’
It was 1.12pm now, and Jess would be waiting for him, but Jude couldn’t face her. Not yet. He sat on the pavement with his head in his hands. Without cash, his hopes of avoiding being put into care crumbled to pieces. What would he and Jess do? What would his sister say?
You’re late,’ said Jess, although she didn’t seem too bothered. She was already three chapters into Castle of Secrets and had the contented glow of an avid reader in the grip of a page-turner. ‘Everything all right? Did you get the cash?’
‘No,’ admitted Jude. ‘Had second thoughts.’
Which was true. He’d had second, third, fourth and fifth thoughts, none of which altered the fact that he’d basically thrown away $15,822. No bank on earth would hand a new credit card to a couple of kids who weren’t Gabriel Henry Carter. Jude’s forgetfulness had destroyed any chance they’d had of sailing around the world.
He’d have to break the news to Jess sooner or later, but now didn’t seem the best time.
Hey, sis, that lottery you mentioned? Guess what – I blew it.
Jess set down her backpack. ‘Jude, we need extra cash. Until we know who’s after us, any time we anchor in a crowded place, we’re taking a risk. It’s hard to hide when you haven’t a clue who you’re hiding from.’
‘Yeah, but think about this. If we withdraw a stack of cash so soon after Gabe’s passing, and the police somehow link the body they’ve found with our yacht, it’l
l look deeply suspicious. The cops could accuse us of murder.’
‘Omigod, Jude. That hadn’t even occurred to me. And if we use Gabe’s credit card to buy clothes or food when we haven’t reported him missing, that might look dodgy too. We could end up somewhere worse than an orphanage. We could be sent to a youth detention centre or one of those boot camps for outof-control kids.’
‘It’s a minefield,’ agreed Jude. ‘Let’s grab our laundry and get some supplies with the cash we already have, then head for the nearest uninhabited island. I cannot wait to get out of here.’
7
HORSESHOE REEF
Afterwards, Jess would always wonder if the real reason they decided to sail to Horseshoe Reef was because it was forbidden to amateur sailors. It was a test. If she and Jude could make it there and back in one piece, it would be proof that they were the skilled young yachtsmen their guardian had trained them to be. They’d be ready to take on the world.
Failure was not an option.
The week before he died, Gabe had shown them Instagram photos of butterfly fish and turtles gliding through the twenty-nine kilometres of pristine coral that ringed the island of Anegada.
‘You’ll love it there, Jess,’ he’d said. ‘It’s a true snorkellers’ paradise. And, Jude, you’ll learn some new navigational techniques getting there too. It might seem like plain sailing but, beneath the surface, there’s a world of trouble. Whole forests of branch coral that’ll put a hole in your hull before you can say “baloney”. Only licenced skippers are allowed there.’
Jess had been entranced. ‘It’s so beautiful, it doesn’t look real.’
‘Uh-huh. And over the centuries, the captains of over three hundred warships, galleons and trawlers have thought the same thing – right up until their boat got smashed into splinters on that lovely white reef.’
He’d clicked through to a couple of eerie shots of greening anchors and clownfish groupers weaving through shipwrecks.
‘Back then, few mariners knew that in the Anegada Passage, the ocean drops off a cliff. Sailors call it the “O-My-God-A-Passage”. Imagine. You’re cruising along in twenty-one metres of clear water, watching the pretty pink flamingos. Then – boom – the bottom of the planet drops into oblivion. Where the Caribbean Sea meets the Atlantic Ocean in the Puerto Rico Trench, it’s over five miles – that’s eight thousand metres – deep.’
Jude had leaned in. ‘Five miles? That’s wild.’
‘Yep, it is, and it makes for a real maelstrom of currents. But that’s not your only challenge. The seabed around there is an underwater mountain range of shelves, caves, coral, fault lines and tectonic plates, all shifting about like a DJ at a mixing desk. Earthquakes happen fairly regularly. Toss weather into the equation, and you can understand why Anegada’s a ship graveyard to rival the Cape of Good Hope.’
‘Yeah, but most of those ships went down in the olden days,’ said Jude. ‘Wouldn’t happen now because we have modern charts and digital depth sounders. It’s not the Bermuda Triangle.’
Gabe had shaken his head. ‘You have a lot to learn if you think a depth sounder and a few gadgets are all it takes to save you if things go bad, Jude. That’s where experience comes in.’
‘So, can we go there?’ asked Jude, eyes shining. ‘Can we sail to Horseshoe Reef?’
‘Try stopping us,’ Gabe had said with a grin.
Jess had been unable to believe her ears. ‘Why would we go there when there’s a chance we might sink our yacht?’
‘For the thrill of it!’ Gabe laughed. ‘Kidding – just kidding. Don’t fret, Jess. Anegada’s a spectacular place. I hear there are dolphins too. If we’re lucky, we might get a chance to swim with them.’
From that moment on, the idea of swimming with dolphins had lodged in Jess’s head and become an obsession.
But the main reason the twins decided to sail on their own to Anegada, was because they were grieving and bored.
Nine days had gone by since they’d had brunch at the fancy cafe in Leverick Bay. Nine formless days of perfect sunshine, perfect sea, perfect beaches, and perfect families enjoying themselves.
Perfect was not going out of style in the Virgin Islands any time soon.
Less than perfect was life on You Gotta Friend.
Jess had always adored swimming, reading, and walking Sam on beaches as much as Jude lived to fish and tinker with boats. But, without Gabe, life at sea got real boring, real fast.
Gabe, they were discovering, had lent their days shape.
It wasn’t that he was a stickler for discipline or structure. Nor did he have much in the way of ambition or goals. Quite the reverse.
But nobody could deny that he’d had an unstoppable zest for life. He had been passionate about nature, sailing and experiencing the world far from their shores, and he’d encouraged the twins to be the same. The loss of his big, loud, warm presence had left an emptiness that was impossible to fill.
Most evenings, he and Jude had practised knots or planned the next day’s route. Quite often, Jess would read aloud to the two of them before they all turned in for the night. As far as Jess could tell, Gabe had last opened a novel in high school. But both he and Jude relished a good tale if they were read to.
The twins hadn’t realized how much they’d enjoyed these times until they were gone.
They even missed the things they’d complained bitterly about when Gabe was around. How bossy he was about keeping the boat ship-shape. How some days it seemed that he was on their case twenty-four seven, lecturing them about finishing their homework and chivvying them to tidy lines, put on life jackets, clean the galley, and scrub the deck and toilet.
In short, he’d given their lives purpose.
Purpose, Jess was learning, was vital. Purpose meant moving forward.
Growing up in the frenetic, chaotic diner had had its charms, but Jess had always yearned for a normal life. She’d dreamed of going to a first-class school, with a wide range of subjects. She would have liked to take lessons from teachers who knew more than she did. She’d wanted school friends, and routine, and an actual bedroom with space for more than a handful of books.
She’d wanted to one day go to university.
In this, she’d been encouraged by Victoria, a law student who’d spent a summer flipping burgers at the diner.
‘Jess, you’re smart. You have a fine brain. Use it, don’t lose it. If I were you, soon as I turned eighteen, I’d smoke outta here so fast, I’d leave tyre tracks. Places like the Castaway and Bantry Creek, they’re like superglue. Not because they aren’t nice, but because they are. They’re as comforting and familiar as a squashy feather duvet. You snuggle up in that thing and you think, “It’s cold and nasty outside. Maybe I’ll stay cosy today and leave tomorrow or the next day or the month after that.” It’s easy enough to let half a lifetime go by.
‘My advice: fix your sights on Berkeley College in California, or Oxford or Cambridge across the pond, even the Sorbonne in Paris. Fly far and fly free, little bird. You won’t regret it.’
Jess had taken that advice to heart. She’d always studied hard and tried her very best on even the tiniest spelling bee. But with Gabe gone, her interest in lesson plans and homework had waned drastically.
Her brother refused to even open a schoolbook. ‘What’s the use when I’ll probably end up crewing a yacht or working in a boatyard like Gabe,’ he told his sister.
Increasingly, Jess found it difficult to motivate herself. Given the choice between algebra and rereading a mystery, she’d choose the mystery every time.
Tomorrow, she promised herself each day. I’ll start on that history project tomorrow.
She was telling herself this very thing when Jude stumbled yawning from his cabin in boxer shorts and a torn vest. It was 10.15 a.m. on 4th December. Always an early riser, he’d started sleeping in late – once or twice until lunchtime.
He opened the food cupboard. ‘Where are the Cheerios?’
‘We finished them
yesterday. Bread’s all gone too. I’ve told you ten times that we need to get more supplies.’
‘Actually, I’m not that hungry,’ said Jude, although his grumbling stomach was audible from the other side of the saloon.
Jess was worried sick about him, and not just because he was noticeably thinner. His spark had gone. Something was bothering him, and yet the brother who’d always talked to her about everything was withdrawn and closed off to her now, when it mattered most.
Jess would have given anything to have the old Jude back. To be woken at the crack of dawn by him crashing and banging about in the galley, accompanied by his irrepressibly cheerful whistling. The strained silence on the boat was becoming too much to bear.
‘What do you fancy doing today?’ asked Jess with forced enthusiasm. ‘It’s your turn to choose. Pick any island on the chart and we’ll sail there.’
‘Anywhere?’
‘Anywhere.’
Jude fetched a chart and laid it on the counter. ‘What I’d really like to do is sail to Anegada.’
Jess followed his finger. It was on the tip of her tongue to say, Have you lost your mind? After all Gabe told us about it being a wrecking yard of Spanish galleons and sailors’ ambitions?
But then she remembered the dolphins, and how snorkelling Horseshoe Reef had been at the very top of their guardian’s wish list.
‘Why not,’ she said.
‘Is that a yes?’
Jude looked brighter than he had in weeks.
Jess laughed. ‘Yes, yes, yes. We’d be doing it for Gabe. It was the number one wish on his bucket list.’
‘Absolutely,’ agreed Jude. ‘We’d be doing it for Gabe.’
‘Swim with me, Jude,’ pleaded Jess that afternoon at Anegada.
Ever since Gabe’s disappearance twelve days earlier, Jude’s fear of deep water had been intensifying. The way he saw it, if a yachtsman with thirty years’ experience could be washed overboard by a single wave, it proved that the smallest slip or miscalculation could result in Jude doing the same. What would happen to Jess then?
Jude knew he had to get over his ocean phobia, just as he knew he had to tell his sister about the lost bank card.
Wave Riders Page 5
