A Summer at Sea

by Katie Fforde

  ‘Did it unsettle you? Going back for a week?’

  She shook her head. ‘Yes – no – I’m not sure.’

  ‘I think I have to take your first answer, Miss Emily!’

  They both laughed.

  Bob played with his empty beer can as if this would help him to understand something. ‘It’s a funny thing,’ he said. ‘It’s the same every year. I look forward to the end of the season because I’m a bit tired and want to go home – but come the last couple of weeks I get sad and sentimental at the prospect. And now it’s the last night and I wish there was another month of the season left.’

  Emily nodded. ‘I really don’t want to go home – at least I don’t now, this minute. It’s all so beautiful. But the prospects at home are really great.’

  ‘I do believe you. You don’t have to say anything more, I am convinced!’

  ‘Maybe if I say it often enough I will be too.’

  ‘Come on. Let’s go back in and have a drink.’ He crushed his empty can in his bear-like hand and gently took her elbow.

  Emily was even feeling fond of the Walking Encyclopaedia by half past nine the following morning, when she could see the taxi waiting to take him away. She allowed him to hug her quite effusively.

  ‘Well,’ said James, when the last passenger had gone. ‘I really wish those delightful people come back again next year.’

  ‘What, even old Geoffrey?’ said Billie. ‘Forever chewing your ear off with facts you don’t give a stuff about?’

  ‘Even him,’ said James.

  ‘Easier for you though,’ suggested Bob. ‘People have to climb up a vertical ladder to chew your ear off. The galley crew are much more vulnerable to being bored to death.’

  ‘He did tell me why a tam-o’-shanter is called that,’ said Emily, generous now her informant had left.

  ‘Have you finished it? Let’s see,’ said James.

  Emily retrieved her knitting from its special corner behind the lifeboat collection box. ‘Here you are.’

  ‘Oh, that is sweet!’ said James. ‘I want one!’

  ‘Stick to your other hats,’ said Emily. ‘You have a vast collection. I only knit teddy-sized tammies.’

  ‘Oh, OK,’ said James. ‘Now, we need to start getting ready to go back. It’s not an emergency but there are gales forecast.’

  ‘When for?’ asked Drew.

  ‘It said “soon” which means within twelve hours,’ said James. ‘We’ve got plenty of time really, but I don’t want to hang around.’

  ‘You mean because you can’t always rely on the forecast being accurate?’ said Bob.

  ‘Not so much that, but Rebecca is having twinges.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Emily. ‘Third babies. They can never quite decide whether they’re coming or not. But you can’t take the chance.’

  James nodded. ‘And although I could get back by taxi or ring for a lift I don’t want to leave the puffer here, running up mooring fees, if I don’t have to. And she’ll be harder to bring back home when you lot have all pushed off.’

  ‘I wanted to do my washing, get myself sorted,’ said Billie.

  ‘Sorry. I don’t want to hang around. Time for a cup of coffee first, though.’

  ‘So how long will it take us to get back to base?’ asked Emily, thinking about Rebecca and her baby.

  ‘Well, if the weather holds off we should be back this afternoon.’

  Something in James’s usually relaxed tones alerted Emily. ‘But you think it might not hold off?’

  ‘There’s a chance that it won’t. We’ll have to strip down the galley, the bar, anywhere else where everything’s not nailed down or there’ll be breakages.’

  Emily raised her eyebrows. So far they’d had wonderful weather and she’d somehow forgotten that this could change.

  ‘Don’t look so worried, young Emily,’ said Bob. ‘The puffer is famous for its rocking-horse motion. It’ll be like a ride in a theme park.’

  ‘Mm,’ said Emily. ‘I’m not much of a one for roller coasters.’

  ‘But everyone loves a rocking horse, surely?’ said Bob.

  ‘Suppose,’ said Emily, and went into the galley to make the captain his coffee.

  Rather to her surprise, considering they were in a hurry to leave, James followed her into the galley. ‘So what do you think these pains are that Rebecca’s having?’

  Emily shrugged. ‘I can’t possibly tell you from here, I’m afraid. But third babies – they stop and start. The baby might not come until next week. The twinges might mean nothing or they might mean we’d better get a move on.’ She smiled. ‘You won’t want to miss being there, James.’

  Bob, who’d joined them, carrying a load of breakfast dishes, shuddered. ‘You may have to lay the keel but you don’t have to be in at the launching,’ he said.

  ‘Bob!’ said Emily indignantly. ‘You are talking to a radical midwife – well, fairly radical – and we positively encourage fathers to be present at the births of their babies!’

  ‘Well done for getting what he was talking about,’ said James. ‘It was a bit obscure.’

  ‘Well,’ said Billie, with a tray of cups and plates. ‘I know how babies are made but I’ve never heard it called “laying the keel” before.’

  ‘You learn something every day,’ said James. ‘Now, quick caffeine hit, a bit of chart-bashing, and we’ll be off!’

  James and Drew were at the table, looking at the chart. Although James knew the area well, he said he wanted to make sure Drew knew what the plan was if the weather got really bad suddenly and they had to make a run for shore.

  Emily and Billie were packing loose mugs, bottles of oil, condiments, jugs – anything not already firmly attached to something – into boxes when there was a ‘Hello! Anyone aboard!’

  It was Alasdair. He clattered down into the saloon. Emily caught her breath to see him. He seemed different. His hair was a bit longer and it was possible he was flirting with designer stubble – or hadn’t shaved for a couple of days.

  ‘Hey! Bro!’ said James, obviously pleased. ‘Very nice to see you! You got my message? And more importantly, you could get away!’

  ‘Yup. I’ve taken very little time off these last few weeks – it’s been really hectic – so I’ve got time to be around if you guys need me.’ His gaze swept the room and caught Emily, on her knees, mugs in both hands. Just for a second they exchanged glances and Emily sent a message which said, ‘Please don’t say anything that would make people wonder if anything is going on.’

  There could have been just the tiniest shadow of a nod, possibly a tinge of regret that he hadn’t managed to see her when he’d said he would. ‘I’ve also got strict instructions, from Kate, on behalf of Ted, to collect his tammy, which I gather is on its way.’ His hand went to his back pocket and he produced a much-folded piece of paper. ‘Here’s a picture of him wearing it. In expectation, you understand. Rebecca told him it was ready.’

  Emily unfolded the paper. ‘Did he draw this himself? If so, he’s very good.’

  ‘Kate helped him,’ said Alasdair. ‘Ted’s hand–eye coordination isn’t his best thing.’

  Emily laughed. ‘I imagine that’s being cuddled and demanding knitted garments.’

  ‘You’ve got him!’ Everyone laughed. ‘So,’ Alasdair went on, ‘what’s the forecast exactly?’

  ‘First thing it was gales within twelve hours, which would give us plenty of time but – well, you know …’

  ‘You mean, you don’t quite trust the timing of the forecast?’

  James nodded. ‘Call it Imminent Fatherhood Nerves or whatever, but I don’t, quite.’

  Alasdair inclined his head. ‘The weather forecast was bad, too. They’re warning people of possible structural damage.’

  ‘Thank goodness I spent all last winter getting the house really watertight,’ said James. ‘Now, let’s get a move on. No time to waste.’

  ‘Shall we make soup and sandwiches?’ suggested Emily. ‘If people get hung
ry and maybe – er – other people are a bit seasick and not able to cook, it would be good if people could grab stuff while we’re on the go.’

  ‘Do you suffer from travel sickness?’ said Alasdair.

  ‘A bit,’ said Emily. She meant a lot.

  ‘I’ve got some tablets I grabbed before I set off,’ he said. ‘They do make you drowsy but they really help.’

  Emily took the packet dubiously. ‘I don’t want to knock myself out when I should be useful,’ she said.

  ‘If you and Billie prepare food there won’t be much else you can do,’ said James. ‘So do that, and then take a pill and retire to your bunk. We’ll wake you up when we get there.’ He gave her a very reassuring smile.

  ‘That sounds like cheating,’ she said.

  ‘Not at all. We’ve got plenty of people to help,’ James assured her.

  ‘I never feel seasick,’ said Billie. ‘So you go ahead. Knock yourself out!’

  Chapter Twelve

  EMILY REALISED SHE was enjoying herself. They were setting off on an adventure and Alasdair was there. She may or may not need to resort to tablets, but if sickness threatened, she could retire until the bad weather passed.

  Emily and Billie decided to use up the rest of the flour and bake some rolls. They had enough time and they didn’t have a lot of bread.

  ‘The boys eat loads when they’re in a sea like this,’ said Billie. ‘Once these rolls are done we can make up a stash of filled ones to take down to the engine room or up to the wheelhouse. It’ll make our lives so much easier.’

  Emily nodded, aware that they were both thinking about feeding their men. It wasn’t exactly a feminist view but given they couldn’t do much else to help their little ship along, they might as well provide fuel for those that could.

  When they’d done all they could they went up on deck. It was hard to imagine that soon the weather, so fine and sunny now, would send them a storm. With luck they would reach their home port before the weather struck.

  Billie soon disappeared into the engine room, so she could be with Drew. It would be a bit crowded down there, Emily thought, but Billie would find somewhere to perch without getting in the way.

  Emily looked at the passing scenery, wondering if she should go below and get her knitting out. She’d been an important part of the team and now, suddenly, she had no role.

  ‘Hey, you!’ James called from the wheelhouse. ‘None of that slacking on deck! Come up and talk to us up here before we bore each other senseless.’

  She was pleased to be asked – it was like being invited into the inner sanctum, where the cool people hung out. Of course she’d been up in the wheelhouse dozens of times but this invitation felt special. And she knew perfectly well that Alasdair and James always had plenty to talk about.

  ‘Shall I bring some coffee with me?’ she asked, looking up into James’s face as he leant out of the window to talk to her.

  ‘That would be nice,’ he said. ‘And if there’s any crew cake left, we’d love a wodge of that.’

  ‘There’s plenty,’ said Emily. ‘We’ve only just made one. It should be cool enough to cut by now.’

  It was very matey up there, squashed into the wheelhouse, eating cake and sipping coffee, chatting and laughing with James and Alasdair.

  ‘I can’t believe it’s going to be windy later,’ she said, leaning, accidentally on purpose, next to Alasdair. She knew it was childish but she couldn’t help herself. Something about the trip was making her revert to adolescence. Maybe it was because the relationship – if you could call it that (which you couldn’t, really) – was due to end so soon.

  ‘The wind is getting up already,’ said James. ‘And look at the barometer – sunk like a stone. Bad weather for sure and soonish.’

  ‘Hey!’ said Alasdair suddenly. ‘Over there. Is that a cluster of freak waves or …’

  James unhooked the binoculars and looked. ‘No, not freak waves.’ He handed the binoculars to Emily.

  It took a few moments to adjust them and then she said, ‘Oh! Dolphins! How wonderful! Here’ – she handed the binoculars back – ‘you look.’

  ‘No, you have them,’ said Alasdair. ‘We can see them almost any time.’

  ‘Scotland is showing you all her best sights,’ said James. ‘The Northern Lights, otters, and now dolphins.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Alasdair. ‘Anyone would think Scotland wanted you to stay.’

  Emily kept her gaze on the dolphins, leaping through the waves. A few moments later they were gone.

  A bit later Billie and Emily, having baked the rolls, filled them and took them around. Billie headed to the engine room with hers, some beers hanging from her belt, while Emily took her plastic box back up to the wheelhouse.

  ‘Here’s a sight for sore eyes,’ said Alasdair.

  Emily hoped he wasn’t just looking at the plastic box. ‘The rolls are still warm,’ she said. ‘They should be good.’

  ‘Delicious!’ said James with his mouth full. ‘Not sure why. Perhaps it’s knowing we’re on our way home that makes them taste so good.’

  ‘No, it’s because they’re just out of the oven and made by me!’ said Emily, pretending to be offended at his suggestion. ‘But seriously, you must be desperate to see Becca.’

  James nodded and took another bite. ‘I am. It’s been hard being apart just lately, although of course we speak on the phone all the time.’

  ‘So how are the twinges?’

  ‘Gone away for now. But she’s madly baking so when she sends the boys off when we’re in hospital, having the baby, they can go fully loaded with cake.’

  ‘It’s when she starts cleaning out the coal shed you need to get really worried,’ said Emily with a laugh.

  ‘Oh, she’s done that already.’

  Emily stopped laughing. This was a bit worrying. She caught Alasdair’s eye. ‘Oh well, third babies …’

  ‘Was there soup?’ asked James, who hadn’t picked up that Emily was just a little concerned. The last of her mums who had cleared out the coal shed went into labour very soon afterwards. But as it wasn’t a remotely scientific signal, she didn’t mention it.

  ‘There was – there still is. I’ll get you some.’

  When she got back with the soup, Alasdair said, ‘It is getting a bit rough. Would you like a seasick tablet?’

  Emily shook her head. ‘I’m fine. I’m going to try and do without if I can,’ she said. ‘This is my last trip on the puffer. I don’t want to spend it asleep, really.’

  ‘Oh, don’t say it’s your last trip,’ said James. ‘Surely you’ll come up and visit us next year?’

  ‘I’d like to,’ said Emily, ‘but you know what life is like. It’s hard to carve out time off sometimes.’ She suddenly felt tearful at the thought and then wondered if perhaps she wasn’t as fine as she’d said she was.

  ‘Well, let me know if you change your mind,’ said James, sipping his soup.

  Having fed those engaged in actually getting the puffer along, Emily and Billie sat in the saloon chatting and sipping beer. Emily found the bubbles and the bitterness soothing.

  Billie had picked up a magazine left by one of the passengers and Emily had cast on stitches to make Ted a Fair Isle scarf. She knitted a few rows and then thought she’d be better not looking down.

  She found herself swallowing and feeling rather hot and decided she needed to get out.

  ‘Just going out for some fresh air!’ she said and left the saloon quickly.

  The fresh air did the trick. The cold sweat that had suddenly covered her went and she felt OK. She leant on the rail for a while and then went down to get her coat. The wind had got up and it was a bit chilly. She ran back out, wobbling a bit, possibly because of the increased movement.

  Emily became aware that she was feeling worse. Now was the time to give in, she thought, to take a pill and collapse on her bunk. She’d do that in a minute. But just for now she wanted to go on holding tight to where she was. It took her a fe
w minutes to realise she couldn’t move. Moving would make something very bad happen – she wasn’t exactly sure what. She had to stand there and cling on to the rail and watch the sea rise and fall in front of her. She was cold but she was sweating. She wanted to die.

  ‘You not feeling too clever?’

  It was Alasdair. She turned to him but couldn’t speak. She swallowed a few times instead.

  ‘Let’s get you down below with some tablets.’

  ‘Can’t go down ladder,’ she said, as briefly as possible.

  ‘You mean to the forward-cabin? That you share with Billie?’

  She nodded. She was shaking now – it could have been from cold or from sickness.

  ‘Stay there. We’ll organise a passenger cabin for you.’

  There was no question of her moving, so Emily stayed. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to be sick or just throw herself over into the waves. But although the rail wasn’t particularly high she knew she couldn’t climb over it even if she really wanted to.

  She closed her eyes. She felt extremely drowsy and mentally almost smiled. She’d refused pills so she wouldn’t be drowsy and now she was drowsy and sick. What a bad decision that had turned out to be!

  Alasdair’s arm was strong and he half lifted her as she walked along to the hatch. They both looked at the steps for a minute and then he picked her up in a fireman’s lift and got her down them. Fortunately the process was so quick she didn’t have time to vomit down his back. There was time for the thought that she might to go through her mind but, thankfully, he put her down the moment they arrived in the saloon.

  He put her into a twin cabin, on the bottom bunk. ‘Easier for you to get in and out than a double and the nearest to the bathroom,’ he explained.

  There was a glass of water in the special holder that meant it couldn’t spill and – mortifyingly – there was a plastic bowl.

  He pulled back the duvet. ‘Get in. I’m going to get you a hot-water bottle in case you’re chilled.’

  As she was now shivering convulsively, her teeth going nineteen to the dozen, she thought she probably was chilled.