Ship Ahoy! (A Cliffhanger Novel Book 3)

by T. J. Middleton

  ‘Something they haven’t got, something they’ll never have.’

  ‘You got it.’ I unscrewed the bottle, poured us both a couple of shots. ‘Dressed like that, a woman with your talents, would be like spreading soft butter on a toasted crumpet. They’d melt in your mouth.’

  She took the glass, took a sip.

  ‘I never knew you had my best interests so much at heart. What’s in it for you?’

  ‘Don’t be naïve. You know what’s in it for me.’

  She swirled her whisky around, looking into it.

  ‘I would have thought that was in plentiful supply, a ship like that.’

  ‘Yes but I’m a greedy bastard aren’t I? Besides, as I said, seeing you that afternoon kind of re-kicked the old motor.’

  ‘What about this fiancée of yours?’ I shrugged my shoulders.

  ‘She’s nice a girl, one in a million, but no mechanic, if you get my drift.’

  ‘And I am?’

  ‘You forget Tina. I’ve seen you behind the wheel, with your gloves on, all that power quivering under your fingertips.’

  She took another sip, finished it off in fact. I poured her again.

  ‘You’d enjoy it. Eight hundred for two weeks work, new places, new faces, as much cold lobster as you can stomach and…’

  ‘You.’

  ‘Ready, willing and still able. The pay’s not mega I admit, but there’s plenty of ways to up the ante if you want to.’

  ‘What if I changed my mind once I get on board. About you I mean.’

  ‘It’s not like here on land Tina. It’s a different world afloat. You can do as you bloody please with whoever you want to. Them’s the rules. Besides, you’re not there yet, are you? I’ll need thanking properly first.’

  I pushed her glass closer. She pushed it back

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  I pushed towards her again.

  ‘No time to think Tina. It’s your body not your brain you got to get in gear. We’re sailing in a few days and Johnny’s desperate. He’ll need to get your paperwork in order. I’m seeing him tonight. That’s why I’m here now. ’

  ‘Won’t he want to see me?’

  ‘He trusts me. I’ve done this for him once already. A butterfly collector from Frinton. Male. All I’ve got to do is give him the nod and you’re in.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘Mediterranean cruise this time round. Two weeks in the sun, two hours work a day, max. The rest, drinking Pina Coladas, stripped off by the pool, or wherever else you fancy. You do right first time round, the job’s yours as long as you want it. Well, what do you say? You game? We could have a great time, you and me. ’

  She reached out for the bottle herself, poured us both another stiff one. Her hand was shaking.

  ‘Half eleven and getting drunk. What do you need then, from me?’

  ‘Not much. Date of birth, social security number, nationality. If I could show him a copy of your driving licence, something to show you’re not a blinking foreigner trying to escape deportation. Some of those leaflets of yours I saw in the waiting room would help, a couple of your calling cards too.’

  ‘Is that all? How about the kitchen sink?’

  ‘Now that you mention it, what about that t-shirt I shouldn’t be looking at? Give me one like it and I’ll have some copies run off. We could sell them on board, a tenner each. You’d get the main whack, natch.’

  She looked down. Me too.

  ‘This? There only is this one.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

  I got up off my chair, leant over, gathered the ends of it in my hands. She was staring at me hard.

  ‘You really don’t care do you?’

  ‘Course I don’t. That’s my attraction.’ I hitched it up an inch. Fake tan. ‘Where’s that maid? Only I wouldn’t want her butting in.’

  ‘I gave her the day off,’ she said. ‘Soon as she told me it was you. I knew you’d come sooner or later.’ She raised her arms. ‘Shall we move to the couch?’

  ‘Too clinical, ‘ I told her. ‘Take me to the inner you.’

  So we went upstairs to her private boudoir. Living in a bungalow you forget what going upstairs is like, like the stairs are a kind of time travel, changing you from what you were below to what you’re going to be above. By the time I got there though, I was like a mountain lake, cold and still, barely a ripple on me. She had one of those mega beds big as a football pitch, with a television that slid up from nowhere at the foot, and curtains that whisked back and forth at the push of a button.

  ‘I have to warn you,’ I said we climbed on, ‘that Lady Di’s cabins are very restricting, vis-à-vis carnal expression.’

  ‘I can adapt,’ she said. ‘I do Pilates.’

  ‘I bet you do. I bet you do a lot of things.’

  ‘I try my best.’

  She pulled me down. I started on a bit of a nibble. She seemed appreciative. ‘You haven’t taken the rest of my clothes off yet,’ she said,

  ‘Silly me,’ I said. ‘Too busy thinking about something else.’

  She giggled.

  ‘What was that then?’

  ‘Well, for one thing I was a bit upset about you phoning the police the other day about Audrey hiding out in the bungalow.’

  A little gasp as she stiffened under me. Not an unpleasant sensation.

  ‘It was you wasn’t it, after we bumped into each other at that department store, seeing me buying all that underwear and stuff? Thought you’d do your little bit for Queen and Country’

  ‘Oh God, Al…you mustn’t…’

  ‘I don’t blame you, Tina, considering how Audrey’s treated you in the past. But you could have landed me right in it. They came round you know, a couple of hours later, Audrey stark naked, getting those clothes on. Not a thing we could do.’

  ‘Oh Christ…’

  She was trembling underneath.

  ‘Luckily, we got away with it. Just. I stuck her in the corner, with her back to them, pretended she was a model, posing. I’m an artist now did I tell you? Sculptures in the main.’

  ‘No. Yes. I…’

  ‘Though it put me in the frame, didn’t it? We had it all set up you know. Keep her safe in the bungalow, get her on board the Lady Di under an assumed name, keep her in her cabin till she can skip ashore somewhere far away. End of story. Bit trickier now, thanks to you. ’

  ‘What are you going to do… I’ll do anything Al, anything.’

  ‘I thought you might.’ I sat back, brushed the hair out of her eyes. ‘As you’re so good at it, I want you to make another phone call, just like the last, nice and anonymous to our friends in blue. I want you to tell them what I’ve told you, that you have information that Audrey Cutlass is going to try and smuggle herself onto the Lady Di, when she next sails from Southampton.’

  ‘I don’t understand…’

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Tina. Don’t you get it? After what she done to me, killed my daughter, had me put away for four years, she turns up on my doorstep and expects me to help her flee the country? I don’t want her free, enjoying herself. I want banged up for the rest of her natural, like she deserves. Only I can’t be the one to turn her in. She’d finger me for harbouring her right away if she thought I’d had a hand in it. So I got to look squeaky clean, to both her and the police. So I thought, why not that little fireball, Tina Newdick. She’d be up for it. She hates Audrey’s guts almost as much as me.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘Will you do that for me, Tina? Will you do that for me?’

  She rose up like a fish leaping through water, all coiled and liquid, smothering me in her, like I couldn’t breathe.

  ‘Christ yes. Oh Jesus yes. Oh Jesus, Al. I thought…’

  I wasn’t proud of what came next, but I had to, like all those spies had to back in the Cold War, having it off with all those overweight Russian birds, doing it for the greater good – not that Tina was overweight, far from it, but for all her enthusiasm she was
n’t really my type. I couldn’t get it out my mind, the cack-handed way she used to change gears. Frankly I was worried for my own safety. Still I got through it. Afterwards, we was lying there, finishing off the whisky when she said:

  ‘When do you want me to do it?’

  I rolled over, stood up, picked up my clothes.

  ‘That’s what I like about you Tina. Ever practical, even in the afterglow of ecstasy. Not right away. The day after tomorrow, sailing day. Tell them you heard it on the grapevine, something they can believe in. And keep my name well out of it.’

  ‘And the talk thing,’ she said. ‘Was that all…’

  ‘Not at all. But not this time round, not while this is going on. I’ll bring your papers round when we get back. You’ll have to sign a contract and that. We can have another run through the induction course, if you like.’

  ‘Depends how busy I am.’ She raised her leg, scratched her foot. ‘God, I wish I could be there,’ she said. ‘See her getting caught.’

  ‘She’d put two and two together. She always knew I had a thing for you. Christ if she found out about this. But of course she will, when she’s back inside. We can make sure of it. Make her time seem that bit longer.’

  I started getting dressed, socks first obviously. She raised the other leg, scratched the other foot.

  ‘And this fiancée of yours?’

  ‘Figment of my twisted imagination, Tina. I mean who’d get engaged to a bastard like me?’

  I pulled my trousers on. The sweat had made her tan run in the creases. I was half

  tempted to go for a replay..

  ‘You off then?’

  ‘Looks like it. She’s waiting for me. Honestly Tina, the way she carries on, it’s like we was still married. Even had me driving out to get her a curry the other night. Two days time, don’t forget. And while I’m sitting by the pool, drinking those Coladas, I’ll be thinking, next time, you’ll lying next to me. And that tan you got, will be real.’

  I went down stairs, tiptoed into the back, picked up the hat, had a bit a rummage round, then nipped into the men’s room, flushed the cistern.

  ‘Haven’t you gone yet?’ she called down.

  ‘I’m just pinching that t-shirt of yours. Something to keep me warm at night.’

  ‘You great softie.’

  ‘That’s me.’

  I picked up a handful of leaflets and slammed the door.

  On the way back I popped into a bank, changed a trio of notes into pound coins. I had no idea how much it was going to cost. It took a fair while to find a phone box. No one uses them these days, except to piss into. It took a fair whack of coins too, that box, my head sticking out the door to get some decent air. Clunk, clunk, clunk. Then I was through. The first thing I could hear was the bloody sea washing in and out, but they do that, doesn’t it, long distance calls.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Michaela! Remember me? Bungalow Bill?’

  The ocean washed in and out again.

  ‘Yes, I remember. I was wondering if you’d call.’

  .Well I can’t talk long. Costing me a fortune. I was talking to your ex the other day. Adam.’

  ‘How unfortunate for you.’

  ‘He was telling me how much you liked sailing.’

  ‘Was he?’

  ‘Like a pirate he said you were, climbing up the mainsail, bandana round your bottom, a nice juicy cutlass between your teeth.’

  ‘Mmmm.’

  Told me you were hiring a boat this week, sailing it up and down the Normandy coast.’

  ‘That’s right. I was hoping to leave here…tomorrow.’

  ‘Couldn’t be better. I have a crew member for you, that is if you’re in the market.’

  ‘Can they sail?’

  ‘Lived all her life by the sea. My little mermaid, that’s what her mother called her.’

  ‘Sounds perfect.’

  ‘Most likely I’ll call you again in a couple of days, tell you where and when. This number?’

  ‘This number. I’ll be on the end of it. And thank you.’

  ‘The pleasure’s all yours I assure you.’

  Back at the bungalow Audrey was doing her nails in the lounge, wearing one of my best shirts.

  ‘You took your time. Where have you been?’

  ‘Organising,’ I told her. Making phone calls.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It’s all arranged.’

  ‘All? What about my clothes? You still haven’t bought me proper ones.’

  ‘We can get some on the way Audrey. Em can buy you some on the boat if need be. I had other things to do. How’s the passport coming along?’

  ‘Take a look.’ Em had come through, a scarf wrapped round her head to keep her hair out. ‘What do you think?’

  Audrey’s eyes were anxious. Em’s too. She’d done her best, but the photograph page was looking a bit ragged round the edges. I didn’t fancy its chances, if the truth be told.

  ‘Brilliant,’ I said. ‘They never look that close anyway. Not going out.’

  ‘We hope,’ said Audrey

  ‘You had a call.’ Em took the passport back, like she knew it too. ‘Mrs Durand-Deacon again. Said it was urgent. That woman.’ Audrey tried not to look concerned.

  I rang reception, She came on right away.

  ‘Hilary! I understand you called. We were just talking about you, my fiancée and me. This portrait you’re going to have done. Em sees you in some sort of toga. Grecian. Maybe some grapes. What do you think?’

  ‘I think you’re a liability Mr Greenwood, that what. It wasn’t a practice at all, that siren we heard. It was a man found floating in the sea. Is it Gerald?’

  ‘I don’t know whether we should be having this conversation Mrs Durand- Deacon. Maybe I should come down. Discuss it in private.’

  ‘You’ve pushed him off haven’t you? I thought you’d agreed that you weren’t to do anything while I was in the vicinity. I was quite clear about that. I might have known you’d have bungled it.’

  Marvellous. Another dissatisfied customer..

  ‘Mrs Durand-Deacon…

  ‘Stop. I’ve nothing to say to you. Nothing. You got yourself into this mess, you get yourself out of it. I have friends in high places remember, so don’t try and involve me, or it’ll go the worse for you. You’re on your own.’

  The line went dead.

  ‘Everything all right?’ Em was asking. Audrey was looking at me, but a look told her to be quiet.

  ‘The old cow’s changed her mind regarding my sculpture.’ I said. ‘Doesn’t want a shark at all now, and I’ve already started. I better go and talk her round.’

  ‘Well get rid of that thing, while you’re at,’ Em said, ‘Chuck it in the sea or something.’

  ‘You mean the collage?’

  ‘Course I mean the collage. I don’t know what we were thinking of. It’s disgusting.’

  I took it down from the mantelpiece, wrapped it in a dust sheet and took it to the car. Throw it in the sea? Was she mad? An artistic statement like that? If Tracy Emin could wash her dirty linen in public, I didn’t why we couldn’t stick that on the wall, give the punters a proper run for their money. Once I’d hung it up, I’d go and see Mrs Durand-Deacon. I was going to have to do something about her. Trouble was, I hadn’t a clue what.

  I drove down, opened up the shop. I took down Tonto’s Last Stand and replaced it with the collage, stood back. Em was right. It was absolute filth, especially set against Em’s pretty pictures of moo-cows and sailing boats and fishermen in blue jerseys. I was embarrassed just to be standing next to it. I took it down, covered it back up.

  ‘Judas!’

  Adam Rump was stood right behind me, dressed as usual, like it was going to rain. His face was all screwed up. Agitated, that’s how I’d describe him. He jabbed a finger at me.

  ‘I saw you sneaking in here. I’m not surprised, you not wanting to show your face. And here was me, trying to do you a favour.’

  ‘Ada
m! You pop up in the most unexpected places.’

  ‘Don’t come the Adam with me. You’ve been hiding her from me, haven’t you? After I placed my trust you.’

  How the hell had he found out? Of course Alice Blackstock had always had a soft spot for him, ever since she taught him maths when he was a nipper. Maybe her conscience got the better of her. Maybe she simply couldn’t resist it.

  ‘Adam, let me explain. You have no idea, the pressure that I’ve been under. She’s a formidable woman.’

  ‘That’s no excuse. My future’s on the line here.’

  ‘I was going to tell you of course, when the time was right. It was difficult for me. I mean, I have a past with her, whether you like it or not.’

  ‘Well I don’t like it. And I wouldn’t have known at all, had I not gone to check the Bindon Hotel Register just now.’

  ‘The Bindon? I don’t follow.’

  ‘As I said, I was doing you a favour, the last one I’ll be doing for you I can tell you. You know that woman you pointed out going up the hotel stairs the other day, Barbara Hepworth?’

  ‘Yes, I told you. She’d come to get some sculpturing hints off me.’

  ‘I’m no art connoisseur but the name rang a bell. So I looked her up on the internet. You’ve been taken for a ride. That woman is an impostor. Barbara Hepworth has been dead since 1975. One of those irritating hole merchants we were talking about. I’d have thought you would have known that, being a fellow artist.’

  I took a breath. This was not going to be easy.

  ‘Are you sure? She seemed so genuine. You don’t suppose there could be two Barbara Hepworth’s do you, one dead as a dodo, who was dead keen on holes and stuff, and one alive and kicking who eschews them like the plague. I mean, there must be loads of people in the same line of business burdened with the same name. Take me for instance. If I’d taken up soul singing rather than sculpting, there would have been Al Green and Al Greenwood, which could have led to any amount of confusion, sales wise.’

  He wasn’t having any of it.

  ‘I checked. The woman’s a complete fraud believe me. So, thinking you were the victim of some foul play, I went over to arrest her, but funnily enough her name wasn’t in the hotel register, nor had they ever heard of her. But guess whose name was there, plain as the fin on my koi. Mrs Durand-Deacon. All this time she’s been here and you didn’t tell me. The woman I love!’