Kitty squinted into the sun. “Oh!” She clutched his arm tighter.
A woman in a black dress was standing as still as a statue, her hands clasping the railing, staring fixedly at the receding coastline. Beside her, looking immensely pleased with himself, was a man with ginger hair and whiskers. He brought a pipe to his fat lips, inhaled deeply, and blew the smoke out with the air of a man on whom fortune has smiled favourably. He had not yet noticed the arrival of Kitty and Jackson who were still some ten yards off.
“It’s them isn’t it?” said Kitty, leaning close to whisper in Jackson’s ear. “Alice and Henry. I’d recognise him anywhere. I saw him drag her away from the church. She looks thinner, though. That stay in the asylum hasn’t done her any good.”
Jackson made a snap decision. “Stay here,” he said, releasing Kitty’s arm. “I don’t believe Alice is here by choice and Henry’s not going to get away with this. I’m going to sort this out once and for all.”
“Wait,” said Kitty. She tried to hold him back but Jackson was already striding towards the man he detested.
“Henry Blackwood!” shouted Jackson.
Henry turned at the sound of his name and for a fleeting moment a look of surprise registered on his flabby face. Then the surprise turned to disdain. “Well, well, well,” he said, pointing the pipe at Jackson. “What hell-hole have you crept out of? You failed in your duty to me and yet you dare to show your face.”
Jackson didn’t bother to reply but resorted to familiar tactics, punching Henry squarely in the jaw. The pipe flew out of Henry’s hand and skidded across the deck. Alice spun around from the railing and moved to the side out of harm’s way.
“What the devil?” spluttered Henry when he had recovered his balance. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at man?”
Jackson grabbed Henry by the lapels of his coat. “You’re a gambler and a womaniser and a cheat, and you don’t deserve this young lady.” He nodded at Alice who stared at him, open-mouthed.
“How dare you, you stinking scoundrel,” shouted Henry. “If it weren’t for me you’d still be crawling in the gutter. I saved you from a life of crime and poverty.”
Jackson landed a second blow, this time to Henry’s chest and Henry responded with an upper cut to Jackson’s jaw. Jackson staggered backwards for a moment before charging at Henry, throwing him down onto the deck.
Kitty watched with a mixture of alarm and excitement fluttering in her breast. From what she knew of Henry Blackwood, he deserved everything he was getting, and more. She had no doubt that Jackson would prevail. But what about Alice? Now was Kitty’s chance to show the female solidarity she had failed to show in St Mary’s church. She turned away from the fight to see something that made her heart skip a beat. Alice was lifting her skirts and climbing onto the railings at the back of the boat. She held onto a pole with one hand and leaned out precariously with the other.
“Alice!” screeched Kitty. “Stop!”
Her strident singer’s voice carried over the wind and the waves. Jackson paused mid punch and, scrambling to his feet, turned his attention to Alice. “Take my hand,” he shouted to her. “Don’t do anything stupid!” She ignored him.
“What the blazes do you think you’re playing at woman?” fumed Henry. He was slower than Jackson to stand up and swayed like a drunkard, blood running from his nose and spittle flying from the corners of his mouth. “Get down from there at once! Stop making an exhibition of yourself.”
“No,” called Alice. “I won’t climb down until you promise to set me free. I do not wish to marry you. If you refuse to let me go then I will set myself free by throwing myself into the water. You will never get your hands on me or my fortune.”
Henry stormed forwards and grabbed hold of her ankles. “Have you completely lost your wits woman? I should have left you to rot in that asylum. I command you to get down at once and stop this theatrical nonsense.”
“Never!” Alice kicked her right foot free of Henry’s grasp and leaned out even further towards the sea.
“Careful!” cried Kitty.
“Damn and blast!” shouted Henry. He grabbed hold of the railings and started to manoeuvre himself with considerable difficulty onto the top rail. He reached out a hand towards Alice.
Alice looked at the man she was supposed to marry as he balanced precariously on the rail like a grotesque circus act. She looked at Jackson and Kitty standing on the deck, pleading with their eyes for her not to do anything foolish. Then she looked down at the water churned up in the wake of the boat, a silvery white line curving back towards the shore. In an instant she made up her mind. She let go of the pole and jumped lightly back onto the deck. Jackson caught her in his arms.
“Thank God,” murmured Kitty, leading Alice safely away from the edge.
Jackson turned back to Henry who was still standing on the railing as if paralysed by fear. He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew the knife that he always kept for emergencies. The blade glittered in the sunlight, cold and dangerous.
“What’s it to be?” asked Jackson. “There doesn’t have to be any bloodshed if you simply agree to let Alice go.”
Henry glanced uneasily at the knife. He looked as if he was about to speak, but then the boat rose on the swell of a wave and a second later plunged into the ensuing trough. Henry wobbled, made a strangled noise that was somewhere between a curse and a scream, and fell, with a splash, into the water.
Kitty and Alice ran to join Jackson at the railing and all three of them leaned over the edge. The boat was picking up speed and they were already some distance from Henry whose black top hat could be seen bobbing on the water. Every now and then a hand appeared from beneath the surface.
“What should we do?” asked Kitty. “Call for help?”
Alice looked calmly at the sight of the drowning figure. “No,” she said. “He deserved his fate.”
~~~
“I don’t fookin’ believe this,” said the guy with the tattoo, looking from Rose to Dan and back to Rose. “How the hell did she get here?”
The fat guy scoffed. “Ye didna tie ’er oop tightly enough, man.”
“Ah, shut yer gob!”
Tattoo-face threw his cigarette stub onto the floor, ground it out with his boot and marched into the room. He pulled his gun from his jacket. “Now, don’t try anything funny like,” he snarled at Dan, pulling him to his feet and stabbing the barrel of the gun into the centre of Dan’s back.
“No!” shouted Rose.
“Don’t worry sweetheart,” said the fat man. “Ye didna think we’d leave ye here didya?” He also pulled out his gun and grabbed Rose’s upper arm with his free hand.
“Now walk,” hissed tattoo-face, shoving Dan towards the door. The men led them up to the deck.
Rose felt her insides turning to jelly. Why hadn’t she tried to contact the police? She could have asked for help when she bought the bottle of Coke. Idiot, she berated herself. She’d done nothing to help Dan and now both their lives were in danger. She had visions of them being made to walk the plank. It was the sort of punishment that somebody like Max would no doubt find amusing. She tried to see how far they had sailed. The coastline was still in sight, but it was way too far to swim to shore. They were not moving now and the yacht was bobbing about in the water like a cork. A gusty wind had got up and dark clouds were rolling in from the North Sea like an invading army. Rose could see the outline of Highcliff House, perched on the edge of the cliff, silhouetted against the setting sun. What wouldn’t she give to be back there now, even in that rat-infested basement? She wondered what Zoe and Lucky were doing. Had they fled? But where would they go?
The men marched them to the prow of the boat where Max was standing, leaning against the handrail, smoking a cigar. He turned to face them, a look of amused admiration on his face.
“I must congratulate you both,” he said. “It seems that whatever I do to keep you tied up, you manage to break free. You should consider careers
as escape artists. You could join a circus.”
“Where are you taking us?” demanded Dan.
“Well, that depends,” said Max. “I have a few choices.” He took a long drag on his cigar and blew the smoke out across the sea. “I could take you to Amsterdam with me, or I could throw you overboard now. We’re about three quarters of a mile from the coast. How good is your swimming?” He laughed. “Or I could have you shot. Feed you to the fish. Why don’t you choose?”
Rose felt the fear inside her turning to hatred. He was playing with them, tormenting them. The guy had to be some kind of psychopath. The barrel of the gun pressed painfully into her back and the man holding her tightened his grip on her arm.
Max took a step towards them, but as he did the black clouds blotted out the remains of the sun. There was a sudden drop in air temperature followed immediately by a wind that caused the sea to churn. The yacht lurched to the side, throwing them all off balance. In that moment Dan spun around and swung his free arm at tattoo-face, knocking the gun from his grasp. Rose felt the grip on her arm loosen for a send and she ducked down. She heard an ear-splitting crack. She screamed. Oh my God, the fat guy shot Dan! Then something sharp hit her on the back of the head. It came again and again, like tiny daggers trying to penetrate her skull. It took her a moment to realise that she was being bombarded by hailstones. Huge, sharp lumps of ice were raining down out of the sky and the crack she had heard was not gunshot, but thunder. The sea heaved and boiled, tossing the boat around like a plastic toy. She was aware of Dan, a short distance away, grappling with tattoo-face who was trying to reach for his gun. Behind her, the fat guy was struggling to maintain his balance and Rose saw her chance. She reached out with both hands and grabbed his ankle, yanking it as hard as she could. He fell backwards, hitting his head on the deck with a sickening thud. The gun slid from his fingers and skidded towards the stern as a huge wave lifted the bow of the boat high into the air.
There was a flash of lightning followed almost instantaneously by a crack of thunder. The hailstones intensified, battering Rose on the top of her head and bouncing off the deck like marbles. The fat guy lay motionless, but Dan was still putting up a fight with tattoo-face. Rose started to crawl along the tilting deck towards them. Suddenly a boot stamped down on her hand and excruciating pain shot through her fingers.
“Not so fast, little lady!” She looked up to see Max towering above her, a gun aimed at her head. He grabbed hold of her upper arm and hauled her to her feet. The hailstones had drenched her to the skin and she was shaking uncontrollably. Her hand felt as if it had shattered into a thousand splinters.
“Get over there!” Twisting her arm behind her back, Max pushed her to the railing. This is it, thought Rose, staring down into the seething water. He’s going to shoot me and throw me overboard. She felt the barrel of the gun against the back of her head. She thought of her mother, alone in the cottage. She thought of her grandmother. She could almost smell the lavender soap. She thought of Dan and Zoe and Lucky. Her own luck had run out, that was for sure. And yet she was still staring at the water, feeling the heave and tilt of the yacht. What’s he waiting for? Why hasn’t he pulled the trigger yet?
But something was holding him back. Rose dared to lift her gaze towards the land. The storm had reached the coast and a flash of lightning suddenly illuminated Highcliff House, standing alone and vulnerable on the edge of the cliff. The lightning was followed by a rumbling that was more than just thunder. It seemed to be coming from the ground itself, from deep within the bowels of the earth. And then the cliff upon which the asylum had stood for over a hundred years started to slide, imperceptibly at first, but then gaining in momentum. The earth groaned and the cliff tumbled into the sea, as weak and insubstantial as a sandcastle. Highcliff House abandoned itself to the waves and was lost forever.
Behind her, Max let out a cry of despair. He’s just lost his supply of cocaine, thought Rose with a feeling of triumph. The thought made her bold. She swivelled round, hoping to throw him off balance, but then a giant shock wave hit the yacht. The boat lurched to the side, water sloshed over the hull and Rose felt her feet lose contact with the deck. She tried to grab hold of the railing but it slipped from her fingers. For a second she was flying through the air. Then she hit the water and the drag of the wave pulled her under. Everything went black.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The blackness was comforting, like velvet. Rose could stay there forever. But someone was calling her name and she became aware of the touch of a hand on her arm.
Rose, Rose, try and wake up darling.
She fluttered her eyelids open and immediately shut them again. The overhead light was unbearably bright. But the voice inside her head became even more excited.
Rose, you’re awake. Oh, thank God!
She opened her eyes again, more cautiously this time. White-painted walls, overhead fluorescent lights, a familiar smell. She turned her head to the side and saw her mother, sitting there, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Standing behind her mother was Zoe. Rose didn’t recognise her at first because she’d undone her braids and was wearing her hair loose around her shoulders. It suited her better.
“Where am I?” asked Rose. Her voice came out in a tiny croak. She didn’t feel like she had the energy to sit up.
“You’re safe in hospital,” said her mother.
“I’ll go and find a doctor,” said Zoe. “Tell them she’s woken up.”
“Thank you,” said Andrea. She turned back to Rose. There were tears in her eyes. “Oh Rose, I’m so glad you’re awake. I was worried that…” Her voice trailed off and she suppressed a sob.
“What happened Mum? How did I get here? I know I was on a boat, and then…there was a storm. Everything went black.”
“It’s all right, sweetheart.” Her mother patted her hand. “The boat capsized in the storm. Although what on earth you were doing on board…” She checked herself and said in a calmer tone, “A fisherman who knew about the boat setting sail alerted the coastguard who sent out the lifeboat.” Andrea blew her nose. She was obviously quite choked up about the whole thing. “I’ll be making the biggest donation to that lifeboat team,” she added. “You could have drowned!”
I could have been shot, thought Rose, remembering Max and the gun, but she didn’t say anything to her mother, fearing an hysterical outburst. Instead she said, “Did they…did they rescue anyone else from the sea?”
“I think there was one other,” said Andrea. “I don’t know who.”
“There were five people on the boat,” said Rose. But only one other was worth rescuing.
The door opened and Zoe returned with the doctor. “Good afternoon, Rose,” said a woman in a white coat. “I’m Doctor Chandler and I’m in charge of your care. How are you feeling?”
“Um, OK, I think,” said Rose. Every muscle in her body ached, her head throbbed and her right hand felt like a dead weight. But other than that she seemed to be all right. She was alive, at least.
“It will be a little while before you’re fully recovered,” said Doctor Chandler. She lifted Rose’s wrist to check her pulse and then listened to her breathing through a stethoscope. “We’ll keep you here for a day or two to check for signs of concussion, but after that you should be fine to go home.”
Andrea had been smiling at her all the time the doctor was speaking, but at the words go home she looked away and a shadow passed across her face.
The doctor made some notes on a clipboard at the end of the bed. “Can I ask you something?” said Rose.
“Of course,” said Doctor Chandler.
“The other person who was rescued. Do you know…?”
Doctor Chandler came and stood next to Rose. “A young man was rescued,” she said. “Dan. The other…”
“Don’t worry about the others,” said Rose. Right then she didn’t want to know. Dan was safe, that was all that mattered. She yawned.
“You should get some more sleep now,” said th
e doctor. “Your body needs to recover.”
Rose closed her eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep.
~~~
It had been a bumper catch. The boat that came ashore that morning had caught as much fish as they normally caught in a week. And they were big fish too, as though they’d had extra food to feed on.
Walter carried the crates off the boat and stacked them on the quayside. Overhead the seagulls screeched and swooped, attracted by the smell of fresh fish. When he had brought the last crate ashore, he decided to take a walk along the beach. There was something he wanted to think about, or rather someone.
Mary.
Ever since he’d rescued her that day, he had thought of little else. She was like a breath of fresh air come into his dull existence. She had brightened their lives despite the tragic circumstances which had brought her to them. Ellie loved her like a sister, and he loved her like a man loves a woman. She had stayed in Scarborough looking for her friend Alice, but Alice had eluded them. Walter feared that with nothing to keep her here, Mary would return home, and he didn’t want that to happen. Not if she would agree to marry him. He would ask her this afternoon.
He was about to turn around and head for home when something caught his eye. Something black lying further up the beach. A piece of driftwood? Probably. He decided to check it out. Driftwood could be useful, once it had dried.
He quickened his pace and walked towards the thing lying on the sand. The closer he got the less it looked to him like driftwood. In fact, it looked like…
He started to run.
His legs wouldn’t move fast enough. He could see clearly now. It was the body of a man.
He was lying face down in the sand, his ginger hair tangled with seaweed.
He turned the body over and blank eyes stared back at him. Dead.
~~~
Rose and Dan linked hands and walked across the sands, barefoot. It was the end of the season and the holidaymakers had dwindled to a trickle. September was fast approaching and a new school term, but for now they were determined to enjoy this last gasp of summer.
Scarborough Fair (Scarborough Fair series Book 1) Page 24
