FOR THE LOVE OF THE SEA (20 page)

“There’s somewhere we have to go before we eat,” James said. 

Holding Cassie’s hand tightly and leaning on the walking stick the hospital had loaned him, he led her towards a small shop with a discrete green and gold blind above its’ window display of jewellery.

“Come and choose your engagement ring,” James said. “And meet the friend who I hope will be my best man.”

Charlie George was delighted to see James and gave Cassie a congratulatory hug when he heard their news.

“Now what sort of rings would you like me to show you? Modern? Traditional? Or perhaps you’ve already seen something you like?”

A square sapphire in an old-fashioned flat gold setting had caught Cassie’s eye and hesitantly she pointed it out. James had given her no idea of how much he wanted to spend and she didn’t want to choose a ring he couldn’t afford.

“Try it on. I can always alter the size.” Charlie said.

It was then Cassie realised she was still wearing Miles’s wedding ring. She’d never taken it off. It had been a constant reminder of him over the years.

Disconcerted, she unobtrusively slipped off the gold band, replacing it with the sapphire ring, then held out her hand for James to see.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “Do you like it?” she asked anxiously.

“It’s perfect. It looks as if it was made for your hand,” James said. “We need to choose wedding rings now.”

Sometime later, they headed off, leaving two gold wedding bands in Charlie’s safe keeping.

“It’ll be a privilege to be your best man, James. I’ll try not to forget to bring these along on the day!”

It was mid evening before they got back to Devon. Cassie left James in his apartment, promising to see him early the next day.

“I love you very much, Cassie.” He kissed her tenderly.

“Can we please get married as soon as possible?”

Cassie smiled.

“Polly will be home in a couple of weeks. I want her to be my bridesmaid, so we’ll have to wait for her.”

Once back at River View Cottage, Cassie unpacked her suitcase, before getting ready for bed.

She took off her watch and placed it on the bedside table, glancing at the silver-framed photograph that had stood beside her bed for over twenty years.

She slowly reached out and picked it up. Carefully she opened the back and slid out the black and white photo.

It was time to say goodbye. Her finger traced the blurred outline of Mile’s face. While photos still brought instant memories, these days she had difficulty in recalling the timbre of his voice. This evening, though, she could definitely hear Miles’s soft West Country accent.

“Bon voyage, Cassie. Be happy.”

EXTRACT FROM POLLY’S PRIVATE JOURNAL

Wednesday 6
^th

This is turning out to be the best leg so far. I think I’m getting the hang of this solo yacht racing.

Not only did I manage to cross the start line in Brazil first, ahead of Colin on ‘Flight of the Seagull’, I’ve held on to the lead for the last fourteen days. Just to think I might be in with a chance of winning this leg makes me want to hoist all the sails I’ve got.

It won’t make any difference to my overall position as I haven’t accumulated enough points in the other legs to put me in the top three. That means no podium place, but at least I’ll have shown what I’m capable of.

All these weeks at sea have given me lots of time to do some serious thinking about my life. One of my first decisions was not to marry Sebastian.

I think, deep down, I knew when he asked me that it wasn’t what I really wanted. Telling him I’d think about it was the coward’s way out, but I just didn’t have the courage to say “No” straight off.

When Mum told me Tom and Mai had seen him in London with someone else, all my guilty feelings of not wanting to hurt him vanished.

I rang him from Brazil and told him I’d decided against accepting his proposal. I am very proud of myself for not mentioning ‘the other woman’. Mind you, he didn’t say a word about her, either.

We had a very civilised conversation and he even told me I could keep the ring if I wanted to. Of course I won’t.  At least we parted on friendly terms.

In a few more days I should have Lands End in my sights and then home to Plymouth. The weather systems have been so different from the ones on the way out. Tom helped me plot a different course to pass the Azores and I’ve made good time. 

Dexter has been negotiating with lots of people on my behalf and says I’ll have some important decisions to make when I get back.

I’ve always dreamed about competing in the Vendee Globe and it is still sinking in that the essential sponsorship is finally within my grasp.

However, although this race has been a brilliant experience, if I’m totally honest (which is what this journal is all about), I found the weeks of isolation very hard to cope with at times.

The compulsory stopovers at the finish of each leg of this race saved my sanity. Taking part in the non-stop Vendee Globe means being at sea from start to finish - with no outside help of any kind.

Ellen MacArthur took ninety-four days to complete her record voyage, so realistically I’d have be looking at nearly three and a half months. I’m not sure I can handle that amount of time on my own at sea.

But it is such a great opportunity. If I turn it down I know it will never be offered again.

Another thing worries me. I know Dexter and I haven’t seen a lot of each other, but I already feel there’s a special bond between us.

If I carry on with a solo sailing career I’m afraid I’ll lose any chance of that bond growing.  

James took Cassie back to the stately home where they’d enjoyed the musical evening, to celebrate their engagement and to start making plans for their future.

“Shall we get married here?” James asked. “The private chapel out in the grounds is licensed for weddings now. We could have the reception here as well.”

“That would be lovely,” Cassie said. “But please can we have a quiet wedding?”

“We could always have a big party in the evening at the country club if you’d like to?” James said.

“No. Let’s keep it small and intimate. Will we have a honeymoon?”

“Of course. And before you ask, I’m not telling you. Just have your passport ready.”

“We’ll also have to decide where we are going to live afterwards,” Cassie said.

“The lease on my apartment finishes with my job,” James pointed out. “I know you love River View Cottage. D’you think it’s big enough for both of us? Would Bill sell it to us?”

“Dad has talked in the past about selling the place so I’m sure that’s an option.”

James sighed happily.

“Good. Now all we have to do is decide upon the date. You reckon Polly should be back within the next seven or eight days so how about two weeks this Saturday?”

“Two weeks this Saturday will be wonderful, James.”

Life from that evening on became dominated by wedding preparations. Although Cassie dearly wanted to wait until Polly was home so they could shop together for a dress, she didn’t dare risk leaving it so late.

Instead, she and Anna spent a delightful day in town, eventually tracking down the perfect wedding dress in an individual shop in one of the small shopping lanes away from the busy town centre. They even found a dress that Cassie knew would be just right for Polly.

To Cassie’s embarrassment, as they made their way back to the car-park, they bumped into Doug. She’d wanted to tell Doug about her and James before he heard it on the local grapevine, but had failed to get hold of him.

“Doug. I tried to ring you a couple of days ago,” Cassie began. “I wanted to tell you something.”

“I’ve just got back from a business trip. How’s James? Last I heard he was recovering in hospital.”

He clearly didn’t know about their engagement and Cassie felt bad about breaking her news in such a public place.

“He’s home and well on the way to recovery. Doug, I have something to tell you,” Cassie said again, dimly aware that Anna was tactfully moving away.

“James and I are getting married soon.”

There was a fraction of a pause before Doug spoke quietly.

“I wish it were me.”

He kissed her gently on the cheek. “Congratulations, Cassie. James is a very lucky man. I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”

As she watched him walk away Cassie hoped she was imagining the droop in his shoulders.

She sighed. There was nothing she could do. She loved James not Doug, but she would always remember him and their times together with fondness.

When her bedside phone rang in the middle of the night Cassie knew who it was even before she answered it.

“Tom? Is everything all right? Where are you?”

“At the hospital. Mai’s contractions started a couple of hours ago. I just wanted you to know things are happening. I’ll ring you again when there’s more news.”

“Give Mai my love,” Cassie said.

Half an hour later, having been unable to get back to sleep, Cassie got up.

Waiting for the kettle to boil she absently stroked Solo. Sighing contentedly the dog leaned against her legs.

Taking her mug of coffee outside, Cassie sat on the patio and thoughtfully watched the breaking dawn - a new day and the promise of a brand new life about to start.

She sipped her coffee. Soon, her own new life with James would herald yet more change.

It seemed to Cassie there had been more changes in the past few months than there had been in all the years since Miles had died.

It was another four hours before a tired but happy Tom phoned.

“You’ll be pleased to know both mother and baby are doing well, Grandma.”

 Cassie breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“The Wriggler weighed in at five pounds twelve ounces. And she’s beautiful.”

Cassie smiled at the pride in her son’s voice.

“Can I visit later?”

“Anytime this afternoon. Mai needs to get some rest now.”

Later that morning Cassie drove into town to have lunch with James before going to the hospital.

James was as thrilled as she was and gave her a huge pink teddy for the baby.

“I wish I could come this afternoon but I’ve got a meeting I can’t get out of. Give Mai and Tom my love.”

An unshaven but smiling Tom was waiting for her at the ward entrance.

“Hi Mum. Come and meet Alice your granddaughter.”

The joy of sailing up the English Channel towards Plymouth Sound at the head of the returning fleet was to be an enduring memory for Polly.

She couldn’t believe she’d won the last leg. It was an incredible feeling to know she’d out-sailed some of the best yachtsmen in the world. 

Once into Plymouth Sound a stiff breeze had
Clotted Cream
speeding towards the line. Within minutes of the finish gun ringing out, the support boat with Cassie and Tom on board was alongside the yacht and the champagne was flowing.

Tom was the first to clamber on board and Polly sensed the emotion he was feeling as he stepped into the cockpit of his beloved yacht for the first time in months.

“Well done, sis. I’m so proud of you!” he said, giving her a hug.

“Thanks.” Polly hugged him back.

“Congratulations to you too – Daddy. How are Mai and my new niece?”

“Waiting for you back at the house.”

Cassie was next on board and hugged Polly silently, relieved to have her home safe and sound.

The celebratory cheering that welcomed her into harbour increased the nearer
Clotted Cream
got to her berth. To Polly’s amazement there were hundreds of people chanting her name and shouting their good wishes as the yacht was tied into her berth and Polly prepared to go ashore.

Next time she came on board it would be to clear things away, sail the yacht back to the yard and hand her over to Tom. After all they’d been through together, it would be like saying goodbye to an old friend.

Once on the quay the crowds of people swarmed around her. Even though she was exhausted, she smiled and waved and tried to sign everything that was thrust at her - pieces of paper, sailing caps, yachting programmes. The world, it seemed, wanted her autograph.  

Dexter was waiting for her by the prize-giving table. Oblivious to everybody, he took her in his arms and held her tightly.

“Welcome home Little Polly. Well done. This is the moment that makes it all worthwhile,” he whispered.  “Enjoy your success.”

There was a discreet cough from the Chairman of the Race Committee. Smiling, Dexter released her to receive her prize and make her acceptance speech.

The winning trophy for this, the last leg, was a glass model of an Open 60s yacht mounted on a polished wooden base. As Polly stood there clutching it tightly, she prayed it wouldn’t slip through her shaking hands. 

She took a deep breath.

“I can’t believe I’m standing here holding this trophy. I have lots of people to thank and believe me I do from the bottom of my heart.”

She paused and looked directly at Cassie and Tom.

“I dedicate this trophy to the memory of Miles Lewis, my father.

I never had the chance to know him properly and I’ve always missed his presence in my life. But today I truly feel like his daughter and hope he would have been proud of me following in his footsteps.”

In the silence that followed her moving speech, Polly turned away from the microphone and stumbled to Dexter’s side. Wordlessly he placed his arm around her shoulder and handed her a handkerchief to wipe away the tears that were flowing freely down her cheeks. 

The sun was streaming in through the window when Cassie awoke on the morning of her wedding day. Tom and Mai had persuaded her to move back to Boatyard House for a couple of days before the wedding and she was glad she’d taken them up on their offer.

She glanced across the room and smiled happily as she saw her outfit hanging on the wardrobe door - a pale cream silk full length shift dress with a lace overcoat in a slightly darker shade with a hood that delicately covered Cassie’s hair.

The coat was long enough to gently fold into a small rounded train at the back. It was the most romantic dress Cassie had ever owned.