Kensy & Max: Freefall

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Kensy & Max: Freefall Page 6

by Jacqueline Harvey


  Tinsley smiled too and Van even managed a chuckle.

  ‘I stayed there when I was a backpacker and I thought it was gorgeous. I didn’t remember it being quite so rural and tiny and having to rely on the farmer for everything,’ the woman replied.

  ‘And you must have forgotten about the rats and that goat that kept on appearing inside the kitchen every morning,’ Van said. ‘Though he was kind of funny after a while.’

  Van stared across the table at his mother then looked at Rupert.

  ‘Won’t it be easier for Dad to find us here?’ Van said.

  ‘Not necessarily, but there is one thing – you absolutely cannot be in touch with any of your friends from home or your grandparents here in the States. Not a word – no social media, no calls, no photographs. At least not until we catch him,’ Rupert explained. ‘Your father is a dangerous man and he will stop at nothing to get you and your sister back. I mean nothing.’

  Van nodded. He felt as if someone had taken his world and shaken it so hard that nothing made sense any more – everything was upside down and the wrong way around. And now they were in New York. Would they be able to go outside? To go to school? To have any semblance of an ordinary life or were they about to spend forever locked in a penthouse, looking out over a city that never slept?

  Van’s eyelids were heavy as he struggled to finish his drink.

  ‘You need to sleep some more,’ Tinsley said.

  Van put his head down on the table and closed his eyes.

  ‘There’s always another round with that particular sedative. It’s best they both get a good rest. Tomorrow we’ll think about what comes next,’ Rupert said. He pushed Van’s chair out and lifted the boy into his arms then carried him back to his bed.

  Tinsley didn’t even want to think about the future. She would live for the moment and with some luck things might begin to return to normality – although for now she wouldn’t be able to stop looking over her shoulder.

  Cordelia Spencer gripped the steering wheel of the open-topped Land Rover Defender as it bounced along the rutted track. Fitz was in the passenger seat beside her while Song was nursing the picnic baskets in the back. Kensy, Max and Curtis were standing in the rear compartment, holding onto the roll bar and having the time of their lives, squealing and urging their grandmother to drive faster – which on several occasions she did. Behind them in a second vehicle, the twins’ father seemed to be deliberately driving into any pothole he could find.

  ‘Slow down!’ Anna demanded, although there was a giggle in her voice. ‘And could you stop hitting all the bumps.’

  ‘No, this is more fun than I ’ave ’ad in years!’ Hector shouted, his laughter ringing across the open fields. Marisol was seated beside her husband, holding on for dear life while Mim was over the back, smiling at the thought that they were all here together – something she would never have imagined only months earlier.

  Thankfully it wasn’t much further before they reached the lighthouse and both vehicles shuddered to a halt.

  ‘That’s a relief,’ Anna chided her husband though there was no wiping the smile from her face.

  ‘That was awesome,’ Curtis said, jumping down from the vehicle. ‘You’re a very good driver, Dame Spencer. I’d almost guess that you’d done one of those special defensive courses on a race track or something.’

  ‘Thank you, Curtis. There’s nothing quite like a bumpy ride to make one feel alive and I do enjoy a bit of speed on occasions,’ Cordelia replied with a wry grin.

  The family alighted from the vehicles and the children grabbed the picnic baskets. They raced ahead into the lighthouse through the open door. Kensy would have liked to demonstrate her lock-picking skills to her grandmother, but then she might have been in trouble if Curtis had seen her – though maybe he could pick locks already given his penchant for all things spy related. She’d have to test that theory later.

  The hatch was open too.

  ‘Frank must be down there,’ Kensy whispered to her brother, out of Curtis’s earshot.

  The boy nodded. The previous evening he’d tried to get a moment alone with his father and Fitz to explain about the speedboat, but Curtis had stuck to him like glue and then they were sent to bed. Max was asleep by the time his mother came to tuck him in. Kensy had given up for the night. Following their game of charades her father was on the phone again for ages and then her mother had an emergency call with the hospital. One of her patients had a problem and for a little while it looked as if she might have to return to London. Fortunately that wasn’t the case. Granny and Fitz had disappeared and Song along with them and their other grandparents and Mim had retired early.

  Surely Fitz and their father would realise about the boat as soon as they saw it. Although to be fair, the twins hadn’t spotted the name change until Curtis pointed it out. The lad certainly had a good eye for detail.

  The children descended into the subterranean dockyard and were shocked to find their grandparents and Mim had beaten them there. They were standing on the jetty ready to board the cruiser.

  ‘How did you do that?’ Max asked, perplexed.

  ‘Well, if you hadn’t run off ahead of us,’ Cordelia explained, ‘then you would have seen that there is a lift from the little outbuilding next door to the cottage. I’m afraid I’m not a fan of spiral staircases these days and I didn’t think Hector and Marisol would have liked to negotiate it either.’

  The children were stunned when the lift opened again, this time depositing Song, their parents and Mim. The contraption was concealed behind the concrete wall and seemed to be part of the structure. Only Fitz came down the stairs behind them, having locked the place up tight again.

  ‘Wow!’ Curtis breathed. ‘This place gets more and more like a lair from a James Bond movie every day.’

  ‘You’d better believe it,’ Kensy muttered, hoping this time he didn’t hear her.

  Max looked around then nudged his sister.

  ‘Where is it?’ he whispered. But he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

  ‘That boat’s gone,’ Curtis said, looking at the identical one that was still tied up exactly where they’d seen it the day before.

  ‘Shh,’ Max pressed his forefinger to his lip.

  Curtis grimaced, remembering that they weren’t going to mention it to anyone.

  ‘Are you lot coming or not?’ Cordelia called out from the back deck of the cruiser.

  The children ran around the dock and down the gangway. The vessel was seventy feet in length and boasted a main deck with an outside barbecue and entertaining area at the rear, a lounge and dining room in the centre and a full-sized luxury kitchen at the front of the interior cabin. There was another seating area on the bow with loads of storage. Upstairs was the wheelhouse while down below there were four staterooms each with their own ensuite bathroom, as well as the engine room. The transom at the stern housed a small boat garage with a rubber duckie and two jet skis as well as fishing equipment.

  Frank Fife emerged from down below where he had been checking the engine.

  ‘Children, this is Frank,’ Cordelia said. ‘Frank, these two are my grandchildren, Kensy and Max. And this is their friend, Curtis. Although I think you’ve already met, haven’t you?’

  The man said a quiet hello and gave a nod, then quickly turned and hurried upstairs to the wheelhouse. Technically it was only Max that he’d met previously but he didn’t let on.

  ‘You wouldn’t miss him in a line-up,’ Curtis whispered out of the side of his mouth.

  Kensy nodded. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen hair quite that ginger before.’

  The engines burbled to life and Frank shouted to Ed and Fitz to cast off. The two men untied the ropes and jumped on board as Frank reversed the boat into the harbour then turned it around and chugged towards the closed cliff face.

  ‘Anyone keen to learn how to drive?’ Ed asked. All three of the children responded with resounding yeses.

  ‘Edward, I think yo
u should teach Curtis first,’ Cordelia said. ‘After all, he is our guest.’

  Kensy was about to object when she realised that this was probably another one of Granny’s tests – to see whether the lad had any aptitude for machinery. She kept her mouth closed, even though she was dying for a turn.

  Frank manoeuvred the vessel towards the wall, which had begun to slide back. The broad channel filled with rushing water, giving them an access way across the little beach and within minutes he’d driven the boat out into the North Sea, past the rocky outcrop that hid the entrance to the cave. Today the ocean was like a millpond with barely a ripple.

  Cordelia, Mim, Hector and Marisol had taken up positions on the banquette seating at the rear of the main deck, while Anna was helping Song in the galley to organise the food. While he was unpacking, the man realised that one of the picnic baskets had been left behind. They would prepare as much as they could then he would have to return in the rubber duckie to retrieve the last basket, given that it contained the parcels of roasted meat Mrs Thornthwaite had been up cooking until after midnight.

  The children ran to check out the interior, marvelling at the size and luxury of the boat.

  ‘This is a bit different to my grandad’s tinny,’ Curtis exclaimed as they poked their heads into the largest of the staterooms, which he decided was bigger than his bedroom at home.

  Kensy ducked off to another room, where she was gawking at a model of a submarine inside a glass case on the wall.

  ‘Granny certainly has some amazing toys,’ Max said with a nod. He stared into the marble bathroom, thinking how strange it was that not even a year ago he and his sister were crammed into a tiny apartment with Fitz and their parents, getting in each other’s way and not knowing that any of this existed. And while the trappings of their grandmother’s lifestyle were impressive, by far the best thing about their new world was meeting their extended family and becoming part of something so much bigger than themselves.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Curtis asked his friend. ‘You look like you were a million miles away.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine – just thinking,’ Max said with a smile. ‘Do you want to have your driving lesson?’

  Curtis nodded. ‘You bet. Grandad won’t believe me when I tell him – you’ll have to snap some photos for me.’

  The boys headed back to the main deck then shot up the stairs to the wheelhouse. The boat was now at least a couple of hundred metres off shore.

  Frank Fife cut the power and stood aside, motioning for Ed to take over.

  ‘It’s very smooth today, Curtis,’ Ed explained, urging the boy to climb into the driver’s seat. ‘Steering is easy – though no sharp turns. We don’t want anyone going overboard. This is the throttle – forward to power on and back to power down. And remember, we don’t have any brakes.’

  Curtis eyed the digital control panel that had one main screen and three other smaller ones as well as several knobs and switches.

  ‘What does this do?’ he said, pointing at a red button.

  ‘Don’t touch that!’ Ed shouted and pushed his hand away. ‘There’s no need to fire any missiles.’

  Curtis chuckled. ‘Good one, Mr Spencer. Seriously, how cool would that be – except stuff like that only happens in the movies, right?’

  ‘Absolutely, and for heaven’s sake, call me Ed,’ the man said, catching Max’s quizzical frown.

  ‘What does it do?’ the boy mouthed as he gestured towards the red button. Fortunately Curtis was intent on driving and hadn’t taken his eyes off the sea in front of them.

  ‘I’ll tell you later,’ Ed whispered and gave his son a wink.

  Fitz was at the stern, sorting the fishing gear and called out to Max to give him a hand while Frank Fife headed down to the main cabin and walked around the outside deck to the bow. As Kensy was ascending the stairs from the sleeping quarters she spotted the man and decided to follow him.

  ‘Do you need a hand?’ the girl asked. Frank flinched and spun around.

  He shook his head. ‘No, thank ye. I’m fine, miss.’

  ‘May I ask you something?’ she said.

  ‘Of course,’ the man replied, his eyes downcast as he lifted the lid of a storage compartment.

  ‘Yesterday there were two identical speedboats in the dock. Today there’s only one. Where did the second one go?’ Kensy asked.

  Frank frowned. ‘I don’t know what ye mean.’

  Kensy scoffed. ‘I was there yesterday with Max and Curtis and we saw you drive a boat into the dock. A black speedboat exactly the same as the one that was already there. And today it’s gone.’

  The man swallowed hard. ‘Please don’t tell ye grandmother.’

  ‘Why not?’ Kensy demanded. ‘I gather it’s her boat.’

  ‘I suppose,’ the man swallowed hard and ratted around, looking for something.

  ‘What do you mean, you suppose? And why don’t you want me to tell her? Actually you’re lucky we didn’t already and it wasn’t for want of trying,’ Kensy said. She wasn’t about to give up this easily.

  ‘Please, I don’ know where it is. I came down to get the cruiser ready this mornin’ and it was gone.’ Frank pulled three fishing nets out and turned around.

  ‘So it’s been stolen?’ Kensy said.

  ‘I think so,’ he nodded.

  Frank stared at her. There was something in his green eyes that made the girl feel a little bit sorry for him.

  ‘We should tell the police then,’ Kensy said, then thought for a moment. ‘Okay, that’s probably not the best idea, but you should at least tell Fitz. He’ll know what to do. Are there any security cameras in the dock?’

  Frank nodded again. ‘I’ve already taken a look and there’s nothin’ on them. Whoever was down there knew how to turn the surveillance off or at least to make somethin’ interfere with it.’

  ‘Why don’t you want Granny to know?’ Kensy asked. The man really wasn’t making much sense. ‘Surely if someone has broken in and stolen one of her boats, she should be told. It’s not the sort of place you could easily find without some insider knowledge.’

  ‘Please, miss, I’m beggin’ ye. Don’ tell her,’ Frank pleaded.

  Kensy frowned and decided to change tack. ‘Where did the boat come from in the first place?’

  Frank shrugged. ‘I don’ know. I was instructed to pick it up in Whitby weeks ago. I drove it down the coast here. Yesterday I took it for a spin to check the engine. I didn’a think it was firin’ on all cylinders so I did a bit of maintenance work and made sure that it was runnin’ okay in case anyone wanted to use it.’

  ‘Who did you get it from?’ Kensy asked.

  Frank shrugged. ‘I just ’ad a message that I was to pick it up.’

  ‘What sort of a message?’ Kensy asked.

  ‘A coded one,’ the man replied.

  This was getting more and more mysterious at each turn.

  ‘KENSY! Come quick!’ It was Fitz doing the yelling and it sounded urgent. The girl scurried to the side of the boat to see what the matter was.

  ‘Coming!’ she shouted. Kensy turned back to Frank to tell him that he was to let her know the minute he found out anything about that boat and what might have happened to it, but rather inconveniently he was gone.

  Kensy raced around to the stern to see what all the commotion was about. Max was gripping a huge fishing rod arched over with the line whizzing away. He was struggling to keep hold and Fitz and the rest of the family were watching on, yelling encouragement.

  ‘I think I’ve hooked a monster, Kensy,’ the lad said, smiling.

  Kensy rolled her eyes, thinking about how her mysterious conversation with Frank had been interrupted by her competitive brother. There was a lot more she needed to find out.

  Curtis had already cut the boat’s engines and Ed had just taught him how to send down the anchor.

  ‘I think you ’ave caught Moby Dick,’ Hector called out. He was smiling at his grandson.

  ‘Let it ru
n for a while,’ Fitz said.

  Max released the ratchet on the reel and the line zipped out further.

  It was an epic contest – boy versus beast, until the line stopped screaming and Max began to reel it in again. It seemed to take an age and by now everyone was cheering the boy on. Ten minutes after the fish had been hooked Fitz stood on the transom, ready to help haul it on board.

  ‘Well done, mate. That’s a ripper pollock,’ Fitz said as he leaned over and grabbed the line, lifting the exhausted creature from the water.

  ‘It’s not that big,’ Kensy said. She’d been expecting something the size of a great white shark, but this couldn’t have been more than sixty centimetres long at best.

  Song was standing nearby, eager to get a look too. ‘Miss Kensington, Confucius says it is not the size of the dog in the fight but the size of the fight in the dog – or in this case the fish. This fish had a very big fight.’

  Curtis chuckled. He and Ed were standing upstairs, looking down over the stern. ‘Good one, Song – although I thought that quote came from Mark Twain.’

  Song turned and looked up at the boy then rolled his eyes. ‘Honestly, why are children these days so much smarter than in years gone by. Mr Ed and Mr Fitz never doubted my intelligence, but now I cannot even get one over on the younger generation. You are all too clever.’

  ‘Hello! Anyone care about my epic catch here?’ Max said. ‘Photos please, before my arms break.’

  Anna hurried off to get her phone then returned and took a heap of pictures.

  Meanwhile Song had dispatched the rubber duckie from the cruiser’s garage so he could make the quick trip back to the lair to collect their missing picnic basket. He was already on board with the engine revving when Fitz cast another line out for Kensy, who was hoping to eclipse her brother’s catch. Curtis was upstairs on the bridge when something in the distance caught the lad’s eye. The boy turned to see a black speedboat flying towards them.

 

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