Stormfront

by R. S. Sutton

  ***

  Only taking time to call off at one of the last tobacco specialists in the city, Valerie made her way to the train station with two hundred of the more expensive cigarettes available in the UK tucked under her arm. Tipped this time; she’d only had the plain before because the shop had run out.

  ‘Bit strong, Miss Stone,’ the old man behind the counter had said. ‘Have a couple packs of Benson’s or Dunhill’s. I’ll have the tipped back in tomorrow.’

  Valerie had scooped up the two blue and white packs.

  ‘No, thanks,’ she had said, dryly.

  Eight

  Ben’s mother did not seem to have stopped wiping her hands on the flowery apron from when they had last met.

  ‘Should be back soon. Not sure where he is. You could try the boat; it’s about two hundred yards downstream of the coastguard’s office.’

  Valerie rolled back the cover on the Jag before realising she had given the keys to Ben’s mother for safekeeping. ‘Have you got the keys?’

  ‘Ben’s got them on his ring.’ She noticed the quizzical look on Valerie’s face. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, turning to go back inside, ‘it’s been nowhere.’

  Valerie rolled the cover back over the car and started off to the river.

  ***

  Aboard the boat, a familiar figure was hunched over a couple of lobster pots.

  ‘Permission to come aboard, Dan?’

  The old man stretched his back as he turned around. ‘Hello, gorgeous. What are you doing around here?’

  ‘Just come to pick up the car and pay Ben, so I thought I’d come and see you before I went back. He’s not on board, is he?’

  ‘Naw, gone to get a couple of shackles. Cup of tea?’

  ‘Got coffee?’

  ‘Sure, careful on the gangplank, it’s a bit wet.’

  Dan pointed to the skipper’s seat as he boiled up the water. ‘Milk, sugar?’

  Twisting the seat around, Valerie leant on the wheel. ‘Just milk, please, Dan.’ She looked around at the faded and torn photos, mostly of Dan and Ben, pinned to the woodwork. There was a photo of Ben’s mother that had been torn from a full print. Just an arm was visible of whoever had been at her side. ‘Tell me about Ben.’

  ‘Why?’ Dan passed the battered enamel mug over. ‘What’s he done?’

  ‘Nothing, just wanted to know about him. He wasn’t very forthcoming on the boat, just kept asking me questions. What happened to his father?’

  ‘Boating accident. He got tangled up and pulled overboard.’ Raising his eyebrows, he held up his pipe.

  ‘Sure, carry on.’ She pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes and stripped them of the cellophane.

  Reaching across, the old man offered a match before attending to his pipe. ‘Bloody awful. We were just a hundred yards or so from the shore. A gentle swell and clear blue sky. When that kind of thing happens, it brings to mind big seas and driving sleet stinging your eyes. It seemed to make it worse, people on the sand having a good time.’ He shook the match and dropped it on the floor. ‘Ben was on board and it was all I could do to stop him going over after his dad. I managed to cut one of the lines but he’d been dragged down too far. By the time we got him up he was dead. It was two years before Ben would talk to me.’

  ‘Not letting him go after him?’

  ‘Yeah, but we’re okay now. As he let the time go by, he realised I did the right thing. I’d have been coming back to harbour with two corpses instead of one. Telling me sister she was a widow was bad enough, couldn’t have hacked telling her she had no son either.’

  Although it seemed the case was petering out, Valerie still had little doubts that refused to go away. ‘What can you tell me about coming across Sun Dancer? You told me before she just drifting?’

  ‘Yeah, just driftin’ about.’ Dan’s pipe gurgled as he continued puffing. ‘Like the Mary bloody Celeste, except the sails was down.’

  Valerie looked out along the deck as she sipped at the coffee. The boat was well looked after. The gears on the winch must have been lubricated that morning; large lumps of grease sat undisturbed on the cogs. Only small dribbles of rust came from the odd piece of equipment. The dark blue deck had been recently painted, as had the white superstructure. A couple of small nets hung over a stack of lobster pots. Ropes and wires were neatly coiled, set around the central hatch.

  ‘Peculiar, that, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Sun Dancer, just sitting there. Waiting for you to come along.’

  ‘Yeah, and the funny thing is, we’d never have found it if Ben hadn’t insisted we went fishing away off where we normally go.’ Dan swilled round the last of his coffee before finishing it.

  ‘Did he say why?’

  ‘He said a couple of boats had had a good haul and kept it to themselves, but he thought he knew where they’d been.’

  Valerie took a last drag of her cigarette before sending it spinning into the river. ‘You never went on board, did you?’

  ‘No, not until we were back here on the Exe. Why you askin’ all these questions anyhow?’

  ‘Got to put something in the report, Dan. If I can beef it up a bit, you know, make it look better than it is, I might get some more work out of them. At the moment it’s looking pretty thin.’

  ‘No galvanised in two-inch,’ Ben called as he walked across the gangplank. ‘Had to get stainless at twice the bloody price.’ Two shackles dropped with a clunk onto the chart table as he jumped into the cabin. ‘Oh, hello. Come for a visit?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Valerie, sliding from the seat, ‘and to pick up the car.’ She pushed her hand into the inside pocket of her jacket and produced a brown envelope. ‘Bit of brass, keep the wolf from the door.’

  ‘Blimey,’ said Ben, looking at the wad of twenties inside. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘That’s okay, you earned it. Here,’ she laid a piece of paper on the table next to the shackles, ‘put your moniker on this.’

  ‘Oh, bloody hell, Valerie.’

  ‘Anything will do,’ she said, reading his mind. ‘It ain’t going to get back to the chancellor.’

  ‘Mickey Mouse?’ he asked, while writing Charlie Jones on the bottom of the receipt.

  ‘Come on, Ben,’ she went over to the door and turned, ‘you can walk me back up to your place. Okay, Dan?’

  ‘Sure, we’re just about finished here.’ He made an exploratory prod at his pipe before producing more clouds of smoke. ‘See you tomorrow, Ben.’

  ***

  Ben helped Valerie pull the cover from the Jag. ‘Happy to have The Sun Dancer back, was he?’

  Valerie was quiet for a minute while they rolled up the light nylon. ‘Sure you don’t know this Alan and David Preston?’ She slowly, deliberately drew the words out.

  Ben was surprised, like a kid caught with his hand in the sweetie jar. ‘Know them? Why should I know them? Course I don’t, never heard of them before you turned up.’ He recovered his composure a little but still continued talking too quickly. ‘No, no, course I don’t.’ With a slightly nervous hand, he extracted the car keys from his own ring and passed them over.

  Valerie threw the cover into the boot before putting a cigarette between her lips. ‘Okay,’ she said slowly and quietly. ‘Okay.’ Then, drawing a gentle hand down his cheek, she flicked the Zippo into life. ‘You sure you know what you’re doing?’

  Glancing at him once in the rear-view mirror, she shifted through the gears. ‘Hope this isn’t your last chance, Ben.’

  ***

  By the time she was halfway back to the city, Valerie had dictated the report directly to Jane. ‘Get it off to Southern and East. Email.’

  An hour later, Valerie’s hands-free broke into Van Morrison.

  ‘Miss Stone? It’s Rosemary Benson, got your email.’

  ‘Blimey, Jane, that was quick.’

 
‘Pardon? It’s Rosemary Benson, Southern and East.’

  The engine note and rushing wind calmed as Valerie eased off the accelerator. ‘Sorry, I’m in the car, just slowing down. I can hear you now.’ Valerie’s speed dropped even further as the dual carriageway funnelled into a single lane. ‘You have the report?’

  ‘Yes. Can’t let it go now, can we? Things don’t add up. As long as you’re sure in what you’ve put?’

  ‘Could be nothing, but the way they found the boat, and one thing and another.’

  ‘One thing and another, such as?’

  ‘I’d rather keep that to myself at the moment. Don’t want to start, and then make a fool of myself.’

  ‘Okay, Miss Stone, we’re happy to let you carry on. We can delay settlement for a few weeks without causing any problems. It’s a large sum, no one is going to think a delay unreasonable.’

  ‘Talking about payment, we can’t keep going on just expenses, I—’

  ‘No, no, that’s fine. I’ll transfer some money into your account today.’

  ‘The bonus,’ said Valerie, ‘that still stands? We’re not giving that up for a few weeks of salary.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Mrs Benson. ‘Point seven five, or three, whatever it is.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll get after it.’ Valerie hung up and slowed even more as the drivers ahead rubber-necked Stonehenge.

  An hour later, Valerie was entering the city outskirts and called Jane again.

  ‘Going back to the houseboat,’ she said. ‘Need to see Preston again, but don’t want to get pushy. I’d like him to call first, but if he hasn’t done so in a couple of days, I’ll have to accidently bump into him or, worse, call him.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think it will be that long,’ said Jane. ‘My bet is tonight or tomorrow morning.’

  Valerie pushed the windscreen-wiper rocker in response to a few drops of rain. ‘You gone all clairvoyant on me?’

  ‘No, can’t claim that, or any insight into the male psyche. We’ve got an office full of red roses, arrived about an hour ago. And no, they’re not from your good old standby. There’s a card, says, “To Valerie, thanks for a lovely lunch.” And Valerie is underlined twice.’

  Nine

  Valerie was towelling off her hair and wondering how she was going to work the next few days with Preston, when the phone broke in.

  ‘Valerie.’ She could sense he was smiling, stressing the name carefully, making sure she understood it was an apology. ‘How have you been?’

  ‘Oh, hello, Mr Preston, I believe I owe a thank you for some lovely roses?’ She threw the towel onto a stool then flopped into the nearby chair.

  ‘Mr Preston… Can’t ask you out to dinner with you calling me Mr Preston all night.’

  Valerie curled her legs beneath her bottom and put the phone on loudspeaker. ‘All right… David.’ With exaggerated care, she started manicuring her nails.

  ‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘How about dinner… Tonight? We can go to a nice little place I know on the river.’ Valerie took a sip of mineral water before selecting another emery board. ‘You still there?’ asked Preston after a short pause.

  ‘Sorry, David, just finding the diary. Trying to work something out.’ With an accompanying frown, she blew the dust from her nails. ‘Give me a minute, let me have a look.’ After inspecting her other hand for a few seconds, she continued, ‘Can’t tonight, got a couple of clients I have to catch up with. They’re both in a bit of a tizzy, you know, need someone to reassure them, hold their hand.’ She thought for a split second, wondering whether to give him tomorrow or wait until the next day. String him out, she decided. ‘Day after tomorrow is okay, any good for you?’

  ‘Yes, of course, day after tomorrow, I’ll pick you up. Where do you live?’

  ‘You could pick me up from the American Bar if you like, I’ll be in town most of the day, should be through by six. Six-thirty any good?’

  ***

  A couple of days later, the taxi driver was looking at the refined reflection in his rear-view mirror. ‘Where to, Miss?’

  ‘American Bar.’

  For a moment the driver held the vision in his mind as he pushed the indicator down. ‘And bloody right, too.’

  ‘Sorry?’ said Valerie, popping a Tic Tac into her mouth.

  ‘Well, you wouldn’t be going down KFC looking like that, would you? What time you got to be there?’

  ‘Six-thirty.’ She leant back in the seat, rolling the small mint around her mouth. ‘But take the scenic route, let’s make it around seven.’

  ‘Just like my missus, she used to keep me waiting. Still does. She was a looker, just like you.’

  ‘Was?’

  The taxi driver pulled the wheel around as they left the end of the road. ‘No. Not was. Is. Swear she hasn’t put on more than two or three pounds in the last twenty years. Still makes me feel like a million dollars when she’s on me arm.’

  ‘Sounds like I’ll be doing all right if I look like her in a few years.’

  With his arm leaning out of the window, he smiled. ‘You will, Miss. You will.’

  Waiting in the rank on the Strand, Valerie looked at her watch as it moved to seven, then took some notes from her wallet and folded them in half. ‘Thanks,’ she said, putting the money into the hand passed through the glass division.

  ‘Have a good time, Miss.’ The driver waved the money as she left the cab. ‘And keep him dangling. Keep ’em all dangling.’

  Instead of putting her coat on in the conventional manner, Valerie slipped it over her shoulders. Preston was seated in the foyer watching the comings and goings through the main entrance. The slight look of irritation was replaced by a smile as Valerie walked in.

  ‘Sorry.’ Valerie handed her coat to a waiter and sat down. ‘Client kept going on and on, never thought I’d get away.’

  ‘It’s not a problem. Drink?’

  ‘Southern Comfort.’ She looked up at the young man with a tray beneath his arm. ‘Highball glass, two slices of orange, up to the top with ice.’

  ‘We’ll be in the American Bar,’ added Preston before looking back at Valerie. ‘Had a busy day?’

  ‘Very.’

  With Preston by her side, Valerie crossed the chequered floor and onto the thickly carpeted bar entrance. Pulling back a blue tub chair, Preston momentarily stood in attendance as Valerie sat down, crossing her ankles, the suggestion of a suspender outlined on each thigh.

  Pieces of ice cracked as the waiter removed the thick-bottomed glass from a silver salver and placed it on the table. She whispered a very private “thank you” to the young man, and asked him if he would request the pianist to play “On Green Dolphin Street”.

  She raised the glass slightly towards Preston and took a sip. Then, momentarily holding a small amount of the golden liquid on her tongue, she let it gently burn down her throat.

  ‘Would you send a drink over to the pianist, please?’ Preston waved the waiter back and told him to take over whatever the musician usually had, with the lady’s compliments.

  Valerie smiled. ‘He drinks the same as me.’

  ‘Been here before?’

  ‘Now and again.’ Valerie looked around the familiar room. ‘Never tire of this bar. Glass, chrome, slick service.’

  ‘That’s unusual,’ he said, pointing to her watch. ‘Man’s Rolex Submariner. Old one, you can tell by the dial – the figures go a creamy colour. Probably worth two or three times the price of a new one. Father’s?’

  ‘No, no.’ Cutting him off sharply, Valerie slid a hand over the watch; Preston had trampled into somewhere he was not welcome. ‘It’s just a watch.’

  With the slightest of nods, he acknowledged the accidental trespass. ‘Tell me, how did you get into this business of yours?’

  ‘Oh, kind of fell into it, I guess. Helped someone
out with a problem. Then this other guy heard about it and said he’d pay me to sort out some pilfering from one of his outlets.’

  ‘That was lucky,’ said Preston, ‘getting a client straight away.’

  ‘Would be if I hadn’t been stuck with him from then on.’

  ‘Keeps coming back, does he? Can’t say I blame him.’

  ‘Oh, he’s all right, feel sorry for him. My fault, really, never told him to get lost.’

  ‘And what about your family – do they approve of your business?’

  Valerie took another sip of the spicy bourbon, letting it roll around her mouth once more. ‘No way,’ she said after swallowing the wonderful nectar.

  ‘Not in the same trade, as it were?’

  ‘No.’ Deciding to let a veil drop to the floor, Valerie smiled. ‘I come from a village in the Midlands, a few miles outside Worcester. My father’s a solicitor and mum’s a doctor. I’m a terrible disappointment to all, I’m afraid. Especially as my brother is now a surgeon.’ Valerie raised her glass towards the piano player as her request wafted across the room.

  ‘Oh dear, I can see how that might be a problem,’ said Preston, getting her attention back. ‘They don’t have anything to do with you anymore?’

  ‘No, they’re fine. Can’t pretend to have been thrown out in disgrace, and I didn’t run away from home when I was thirteen.’ Once again, the laughter did not reach her eyes. ‘They’re loving, but perplexed.’ Valerie swirled her drink around, watching the thick liquid cling to the sides of the glass. ‘I sometimes get this vision of them praying every morning that I go back and finish uni.’

  ‘Men?’

  ‘Ooo,’ she said slowly. ‘Straight in with the biggies.’ Valerie let her words hang in the air for a moment. ‘Sometimes.’

  Looking like someone about to hit the buffers, Preston finished his drink. ‘Shall we get off to this restaurant then?’ He got up, raising his hand to a nearby waiter. ‘Lady’s coat and the bill, please.’