FOR THE LOVE OF THE SEA

For the Love of the Sea

Published by Jennifer Bohnet

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Bohnet

Previously published by

Ulverscroft Large Print Books Ltd as ‘Call of the Sea’

December 2006 ISBN 978-1846175626

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All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
.

Chapter One

“And now here is the shipping forecast for sea areas…” Cassie Lewis lay in bed early Monday morning listening to the measured tones of the announcer. Sleepily she waited for the forecast for the sea area her son Tom was currently sailing in.

“….Biscay. Gale force seven rising to eight or nine.”

In an instant Cassie was awake and out of bed. Gales were not good. Tom needed some wind and rough seas on these trials but too much could be dangerous.

Dressing quickly in jeans and sweater, Cassie made her way quietly downstairs. Polly’s bedroom door was slightly ajar and she could just glimpse the hump that represented her sleeping daughter snuggled under the duvet.

From habit, Cassie glanced out of the kitchen window as she filled the kettle, but it was still too dark to see much.

A few lights were showing in the cottages on the hillside and the occasional masthead light was visible on boats at anchor in the middle of the river but it was the moon which lit the river and outlined the 12
^th
century castle that stood protectively at the mouth of the estuary.

From the marina directly outside her open kitchen window Cassie could hear the gentle twanging of mast stays as yachts moved with the incoming tide.

A light was shining in the boatyard and Cassie guessed her father was making his customary early start to the day. She hesitated before reaching for an extra mug.

She needed to talk to him. Perhaps now would be a good time. She’d take him a cup of tea in any case.

“Morning Dad.”

Bill Holdsworth looked up from the piece of wood he was planing. “Well you’re the early bird and no mistake. Couldn’t you sleep?”

Cassie shook her head. “Bad forecast for Biscay.” She explained briefly.

“I heard. Reckon we’ll get the tail end of it in about 48 hours. Still Tom should make good time coming home.”

Taking the mug of tea, Bill glanced at his only daughter. She was clearly worrying about something.

“You all right?” he asked. When Cassie didn’t answer immediately he went on quietly, “Not a good year for young Tom to be doing this race is it?”

Cassie shoulders slumped. “No it’s not. D'you realise it’s the twentieth anniversary of Miles’s death whilst Tom’s away racing?”

Bill looked at his daughter, a gentle compassion filling his eyes. He was so proud of the way she’d coped being widowed so young. Tom and Polly were a real credit to her. And encouraging them to both take up sailing when they’d shown an interest couldn’t have been easy.

“It’s different these days,” Bill said, finally breaking the silence. “It’s still a dangerous business - I’m not saying otherwise. But what with hi-tech navigation and satellite phones it’s safer than it’s ever been. The boats are built different too. They’re a lot stronger. I reckon if Miles had been sailing today he’d have been OK. Just like Tom will be,” he said confidently.

“Oh Dad, I couldn’t bear it if anything happens to Tom.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to him lass. He’s a good sailor. He’s going to bring credit to us all by taking Holdsworth’s
Clotted Cream
around the world and bringing her home safely.”

Cassie smiled weakly at her father. She’d known she could rely on him to talk sense. Perhaps now was the moment to ask him about…but Bill was already speaking again.

“Mind you, we could do with a few more sponsors. Any news on that front?” Bill asked.

“Hoping to hear from a couple of firms today.”

“Good. And don’t forget Dexter Munro is waiting for Tom’s final confirmation as soon as he gets back from these trials.

“I won’t. Oh, and while I remember, could you tell Mum I won’t be around for lunch today? I’ve got an appointment with the bank and I thought I’d do a bit of shopping afterwards.”

Bill looked momentarily worried. “The bank?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a problem. I want to talk to them about sponsorship. Right, I’d better get back. There’s a lot to do. I’ll e-mail Tom before I go out. You’ll be here to take his mid-day call?”

Bill nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Making her way across the yard back to her small house converted out of what had previously been a warehouse, Cassie found herself wondering, not for the first time, what her life would have been like if Miles had lived.

He’d been en route to Cape Town in a single-handed race that he’d been so confident of winning when he’d been lost overboard.

“I’m on a roll,” he’d said. “I’ve just won the Round Britain. This is my year.”

But it had all ended in tragedy when Miles and his boat had disappeared somewhere off the Azores during a storm.

If Miles had survived the race, they’d planned to base themselves in France, down on the Cote d’Azur near Antibes and establish some sort of sailing business.

Instead, Cassie had found herself heading home to the West Country with two small children, a widow at 29.

Naturally, her parents had been supportive, and slowly Cassie and the children had recovered from the trauma of Miles’s death. Within six month of returning home, Cassie was once again working in the family business, helping her parents to expand it and slowly rebuilding her own life.

It wasn’t how she’d envisaged her life turning out but she’d been happy enough with her children living back in the security of her own family.

Just recently though, she’d found herself feeling that she’d never left home. If it weren’t for Tom and Polly, who were the living proof of her marriage to Miles, she might sometimes have found it hard to believe her seven years with Miles had ever been.

Over time the memories of that short period in her life had taken on a sepia like quality of a much-loved photograph.

Tom, just five when his father died, said he’d only one memory of him - not sailing, but playing football with him in the small garden of their house. Polly had no memory of him at all, a fact which Cassie knew upset her daughter.

Memories or no, both children had Miles’s physical features and Tom at 6’ 3” had also inherited his height. And there was no doubt whom they both took after when it came to sailing.

For six years now, Tom, as well as being involved in the family business, had been pursuing a career as a professional yachtsman. Cassie was very proud of his achievements. According to Tom, this round the world race would set the seal on it.

“In another four years, when the next one is held Mai and I will probably have a family,” he’d hesitated, clearly choosing his next words with care.

“I wouldn’t want to put myself in the position where I might do to Mai and our children what Dad did to us.”

Cassie had struggled to fight back the tears at his words.

As she let herself back into the house she realised she hadn’t discussed with her father the matter she’d intended. The moment hadn’t been right after all.

Polly was in the kitchen leaning sleepily against the Aga rail, her hands clasped around a mug of coffee.

“Morning Mum. Coffee’s in the pot if you want one.”

“What are you up today?” Cassie asked as she poured herself a coffee.

“Mai and I are still trying to get the main cabin on the barge finished. We’re almost there. Just got the portholes to paint and the curtains to hang. Then we can start on the galley.”

Over the years Bill Holdsworth had expanded his initial boat-building yard into a real family concern.

Cassie had taken over the day to day running of the yacht chandlery and was taking over the book keeping side of the business from her mother. Now in her seventies, Liz Holdsworth was pleased to have some time to pursue other interests.

The marina side of the business was run by Cassie’s brother Rufus and his wife Bridget. The barge was to be Tom and Mai’s project. Polly was giving them a helping hand for a year until she decided what she was going to do with her life.

“The business needs to expand Gramps, if it’s to survive and support us all,” Tom had said. “We can use the barge as a base for a sailing school and offer accommodations as well.”

The 100ft barge, abandoned in the Isle of Wight, had been bought for a song and towed slowly down channel. For the last couple of weeks it had been tied up alongside the Holdsworth’s pontoon waiting to be allocated a permanent mooring by the Harbour Commission.

Once the boatyard men had done some essential maintenance on it, Mai and Polly had spent hours decorating and generally sprucing it up in readiness for its first season.

“If you’re going into town today Mum, could you pop into the printers and pick up the brochures? We’re going to have to start mailing them out soon,” Polly asked.

“Yes OK. Anything else you want whilst I’m there? Will you be home for dinner this evening?”

Polly shook her head. “No thanks. Sebastian’s booked a table at Le Bistro for tonight. He wants us to have a special evening together before he reports for duty on Thursday.”

“Le Bistro really is special,” Cassie said. “Very swish.”

“Hmm. I think he plans on proposing to me tonight,” Polly said quietly.

Cassie felt her heart skip a beat in trepidation but before she could say anything Polly was on her way out.

“Right I’m off to the barge,” her daughter said. “See you later.” And she was gone, the kitchen door closing quickly behind her.

Cassie sighed. She’d wanted to ask Polly what she planned to say if Lieutenant Sebastian Grove did propose.

The phone was ringing as Cassie walked into her office behind the chandlery store an hour or so later.

“Cassie? It’s Anna.”

“Hi. Lovely to hear you. How are you?”

“OK – well, sort of. Can I come and stay for a bit?”

“Of course.When?”

“Wednesday?”

“Fine.”

They chatted on for a few moments before saying good-bye, both looking forward to the forthcoming visit.

Anna and Cassie had been best friends since primary school days. Anna had moved away when she got married and had spent the last twenty-five years living and farming in Wales. Letters, lots of telephone calls and yearly visits had kept them in touch.

When Anna’s husband had died five years ago, Cassie had tried to persuade her friend to come home but Anna had said refused. She was going to stay and help her son David to run the farm. Since then visits had been few and far between. Briefly Cassie wondered how long Anna intended to stay this visit.

Switching on the computer and logging on, Cassie checked her e-mails and gave a sigh of relief. There was finally one from Rule of Thumb Technology confirming their offer of sponsorship and naming a sum of money that would certainly ease Tom’s current cash flow problems.

No news from the other major sponsor she was waiting to hear from though. Time was running out on that one.

E-mailing Tom she told him the good news regarding Rule of Thumb, said how much she was looking forward to seeing him in three or four days time, and wished him a safe journey home.

The next couple of hours flew by as Cassie made phone calls and sent faxes and e-mails on Tom’s behalf. This finding sponsorship and organising things for Tom was rapidly becoming a full-time job. She still had all the day-to-day things to do for the chandlery and the accounts for the yard.

It was mid-day before she was finished and she realised she was going to have to get a move on if she wasn’t to be late for her appointment at the bank.

Holdsworth Boatyard & Marina, although only a mile up river from town by boat, was a three mile drive by car up a narrow coombe on tortuously windy Devonshire lanes with their high hedges, before the narrow track dropped down again to the coast.

Most of the time trips into town were made using the small river launch but today Cassie opted to take her car. She didn’t want to look too windswept for her appointment with Mr Hollis the bank manager.

His usual courteous self, Mr Hollis greeted her warmly. “Although I’m afraid I don’t have an official answer for you yet, Mrs Lewis, the good news is that Head Office is still considering your sponsorship package. Hopefully by this time next week, I’ll have a definite favourable decision. I’ll ring you as soon as I hear anything.”