Authors: Faith Mortimer
The Seeds of Time
Chapter 1
The Atlantic 2005
Richard knew he had no choice. It had to be now; he would never get another chance. He took a deep breath and pushed off the heaving wet deck of his yacht. With sheer determination, he dived for the rescue net. He hit the water, and his lower torso disappeared into the black froth that seemed to claw and clutch at him. Somehow, he managed to stretch out, and as he grabbed the harsh net with one arm, he felt the mesh tangle around him. The ship lurched, and this time he was fully immersed in deep water. What seemed like minutes later, he broke the surface, coughing and choking, the salt stinging his eyes. Clamping his other hand round the netting, Richard clung to it like a limpet. The water roared and hissed around his ears, terrifyingly black. He knew he must climb the rescue net quickly, as his energy was rapidly ebbing away, and conditions weren’t going to get any better.
Moving one arm higher, he found a rung and hauled himself up, grunting with the exertion as he did so. His hands were bleeding from fresh cuts where he had smashed against the rough barnacles on the ship’s hull. Fatigue was rapidly overwhelming him. The past few days of untold stress and lack of sleep were taking their toll. Gritting his teeth, he managed to move up another foot of net and then by willpower alone, he pulled himself up rung by rung. He heard the faint encouraging cries of the crew far above him and paused. He looked up and saw a line of faces peering down at him. His adrenalin surged, and with renewed vigour, he at last collapsed thankfully on the ship’s deck.
Utterly exhausted by his ordeal, Richard lay there not quite believing where he was. Water streamed off his body, and he knew that soon he would begin to feel the cold as it seeped through to his bones. Coughing and retching seawater, Richard sat up, suddenly noticing the ring of sturdy-looking sea boots before him. He attempted to stand and felt strong arms supporting him. He braced his legs against the motion of the deck and looked round. A circle of anxious faces stared back: a stocky bearded fellow whom he assumed to be the captain, four or five crew members, and an ashen-faced Toby. The captain cleared his throat, about to speak.
Again, Richard looked around his surroundings and forestalled him by saying hoarsely, ‘Where’s Connie? Where’s my wife?’ His voice wavered, and he felt his heart thump wildly in his chest. There was silence. No one spoke. All sounds drifted away from him. He was in a dreamlike glide, and the reality was too strange to comprehend. He felt as though his actions were slowing, as if in a slow-motion film, frame by frame passing by. Everything took an eternity: a raised hand placed on his shoulder, a sentence spoken slowly by someone, but everything seen with an achingly clear focus, sharply defined. He imagined her limp in his arms, her head thrown back, and the curve of her throat, so beautiful. She was gone.
The slow world turned crimson red. It spun wildly on its axis and then rushed up to engulf him as his head hit the hard deck with a thump.
*****
**
Sometime later, Richard struggled to clear the mistiness from his brain. Every time he reached out and clawed at the blackness engulfing him, he was drawn back down again into his own violent hell. He tossed and turned in delirium on the sweat-drenched bunk where the crew had placed him after he had collapsed on the outside deck.
The ship’s medic had swiftly examined Richard’s head wound, soon dismissing it as a minor laceration. The medic was more worried about the state of his patient’s mind once he regained
consciousness. As he observed Richard and listened to his feverish cries of anguish, he could only guess at the nightmares which coursed around his brain. The medic knew from what Toby had told him a little of what had happened on the yacht’s fated voyage, and he shook his head in pity as he wondered how Richard was going to cope. Richard had everything going for him, he had been told, and now this. How the hell had it all gone wrong?
Chapter 2
Richard William Barker couldn’t get the idea out of his head that something was up. Nothing had been said, but he was now feeling edgy once he had finished talking to his friend, Toby Ellis. Richard thought over what Toby had told him.
“Guess what? I knew you were waiting for that new piece of navigational software to come out, and I’ve pulled a few strings with some pals of mine at Oceantech. I’ve been given a sample which they’d like you to sea-trial for them. I was thinking – I have a bit of leave to take, and I thought I’d bring it out to Tenerife instead of trusting it to the post. The piece probably wouldn’t reach you in time before you leave to cross the Atlantic anyway. So I’ll see you both tomorrow. The flight gets in mid-afternoon, and I’ll get a taxi to the marina. I must say I’m looking forward to seeing you and Connie and catching some rays. The weather here is bloody awful at the moment.”
Although Richard liked Toby, he knew his friend was often selfish and usually worked off his own agenda, so Richard had every right to feel suspicious. He paused on the foredeck of his yacht and shook his head. What the hell! There was probably nothing in it at all, and he was being paranoid. Toby was simply doing him a favour in delivering the piece of software and using Tenerife as an excuse to see some winter sun. Once Richard and Connie set sail, he would no doubt move into the swankiest hotel on the island and cast his roving eye around for some beautiful woman to pass the time. Richard laughed. Toby was the devil when it came to women, and no female under the age of fifty was safe as far as he was concerned. Richard didn’t know how he managed it. He decided he needed a cold beer before Connie got back from her shopping and rummaged around in the cool box until he found what he was looking for. He deserved a ten-minute break anyway.
Richard reached the cockpit of his beautiful sloop-rigged yacht, Ellentari, and looked along her deck. He still felt a shiver of pleasure as he ran a hand over the smooth varnished mahogany trim. This trip was going to be the adventure of a lifetime, and it was something Richard had planned down to the tiniest detail. As far as he could tell, nothing was left unorganised or forgotten, and he was as coiled as a spring with anticipation.
Richard’s long-term plans had come together nicely. They had all the necessary ingredients: the time, the money, and a successful partnership in which they complimented each other for the majority of the time they spent together. After a heady, passionate early marriage, Richard and Connie Barker had settled down with only the occasional stormy row to punctuate their steady relationship. Richard loved Connie – there was no doubt about his feelings towards her, but being fairly undemonstrative, Richard usually kept his inner feelings to himself.
Richard had placed his business interests in the trustworthy hands of his manager, while also knowing that with today’s technology he could stay in daily contact if necessary by satellite telephone and email. His wariness was caused by their almost imminent departure from Tenerife. In a day or so – all being well – they would have completed all the necessary tasks and boat preparations. Getting ready for a long, extended cruise had taken over a year. They planned on leaving the comparative safety of the Canary Island waters and on sailing across The Pond. In other words, they had 2,800 miles of the Atlantic to cross in a small boat. It was well known to be a vast, lonely, sometimes inhospitable sea, but it was an adventure that many an amateur sailor had undertaken without mishap, thoroughly enjoying the challenge and eventual achievement.
With almost everything in place, Richard was eager to be off to fulfil his lifelong dream of skippering his own yacht across one of the great oceans of the world and facing all the personal challenges that would be thrown at him. He didn’t know where this deep-seated yearning had come from, but for most of his life he had felt an almost overwhelming urge to go out, buy a boat, and explore. Now the dream was just beginning and coming to fruition, as Richard and Connie finalised their preparations for their planned adventure.
Richard sat contemplating the condensation on his beer can as it slowly ran down the outside, forming a small wet ring on the coaster. Wiping it away with his hand, he thought about Toby as another uncomfortable wave of doubt passed through him. He sighed and took a gulp of beer.
Richard knew Connie was not as passionate about sailing as he was. She much preferred to be within sight of land. However, she had jumped at the chance of leaving her position as a surgical ward sister, and she was thoroughly enjoying the newfound luxury of being her own boss. Connie discovered she actually had time for herself. Having enrolled in a diving class before leaving England, she was looking forward to exploring the fabulous coral reefs around the British Virgin Islands. Connie had also rediscovered her teenage talent for painting and looked forward to catching the colourful Caribbean on canvas. Aboard Ellentari
,
their comfortable furnished aft cabin, with its scandalously large double bunk, had a whole locker dedicated to her artistic talents. She meant to enjoy herself. The sailing would be mainly Richard’s interest with Connie doing her bit.
As soon as he finished his beer, Richard took a look at his watch, thinking it was about time she was home and was rewarded by the sight of Connie walking along the wooden pontoon.
“Hi, darling. You look a bit hot. Fancy a cold drink?”
Connie took off her sandals and handed a couple of plastic grocery bags up to Richard. “Yes please. Can you put these vegetables below for me? What are you having? Beer?”
“Yes. Want one?”
“Um. Actually I’d prefer a Campari and fresh orange, please.”
“Campari and orange coming up.”
Richard went below taking the fresh produce with him, while Connie sat down on a plump deck cushion and sighed in relief.
“Did you get everything we need?” he asked after joining her on deck.
“Yep. I think we have enough food to last a siege now, and there’s definitely more than we can manage. I think I’ve panicked a bit.”
Richard laughed. “I’m sure we’ll eat it all. Sea air gives you a great appetite.”
Richard studied his wife with a familiar deep affection. Small, dark-haired, and neat, described her outward appearance. She was about five feet four inches in her bare feet and possessed a nice slim body. Her legs were well shaped, rising to a firm little bottom, nipped in waist, and pert breasts. Handful-sized, Richard would say. Anything bigger would be a waste. She had recently had her hair cut short, as she complained long hair would be too hot in a tropical climate. Her newly shorn hair was slightly curly from the salty air and attractively framed her violet-blue eyes. Connie enjoyed her refreshing Campari and orange juice. The ice cubes tinkled against the glass when she lifted it for a sip, and she relished the slight bitterness of the fortified spirit that contrasted with the sweetness of the fruit. She caught Richard appraising her and raised her eyebrows.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
It was her turn to laugh. “Something’s on your mind. I know you so well. What’s wrong?”
“No truly, nothing’s wrong.” He took a pull of beer from his can.
“Then why look so pensive?”
“Toby rang today.”
“Oh? What did he want?”
“Nothing. He rang to say he’d managed to get that piece of software for the radar.”
“That’s good. What’s he going to do? Post it to Antigua?”
“Actually, no. He says, as he has some leave owing, he’s flying out tomorrow with it. He plans to—” Richard paused. What did Toby plan to do?
“Go on.”
“Well, that was it really. I presume as he mentioned getting some sun, he’ll stay on here. You know Toby. He can afford a decent hotel and will love being surrounded by women.”
Connie grinned and shook her head. “It’s about time he settled down. Even he must be tired of playing the field.”
Richard thought about his friend before replying. “You’re right, he should, but I’m not sure he’d agree. He’s probably too stuck in his ways to get a steady partner. He usually tires of them before they become anywhere near steady.”
“Well, he’s not our problem.”
“Not likely! We’ll be off in two days, exploring the world! Now where shall we eat tonight?”
*****
**
They decided to eat dinner in the square in Santa Cruz. Connie was a seafood lover and adored sampling the local tapas and oysters. This was followed by delicious sea bream, grilled with just olive oil and herbs, washed down with a crisp white Marques de Caceres, one of their favourite wines. Richard fancied a steak and was well rewarded with his choice of tender, melt-in-the-mouth piece of fillet. They decided to forgo coffee, preferring to stroll hand in hand across the cobbled square back to the yacht, taking in the balmy, cooling night breeze. On reaching their pontoon, Ellentari shone in the silvery moonlight, her tall mast and spreaders thrusting loftily up into the blue-black sky. Turning to Connie, Richard put his arms around her and planted a soft kiss upon her lips.
The huge golden orb of the sun was long gone having cast long deep-mauve shadows on the surrounding hills. It had been “another perfect day in paradise” using the yachties’ much hackneyed, but true, cliché. Richard decided everything was perfect.