Suddenly the foghorn sounded.
”Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”
“What on earth? Jim the sun’s out.”
“What’s all that black smoke in front of the window then?”
“The frying pan. The sausages are burnt.”
“E-yuk. Fine cook we’ve got.”
Staci came up behind him. “You can’t say much Mr. Navigator. You’re not too good at sailing. Anyway--not my fault the frying pan is in a spiteful mood. I’ve changed the menu. Burnt sausage and mash.”
“Burnt sausage and burnt mash?”
“It can be arranged.”
Jim grinned. “Have it your way. Is it dinner time yet?”
“Nearly,” Staci said turning back towards the galley.
Lou brought the pan back in.
As Staci mashed the potatoes she burst into song.
Lou scrubbed the frying pan and listened.
By the end of the verse she had set the table and piled mash onto the plates.
Jim, being the man-about-the-boat, said grace. “For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly grateful.” Then he looked at his plate. “Am I supposed to eat this? No, don’t tell me. I am.”
Both girls screamed with laughter.
He dug his fork into his sausage and sawing a piece off, raised it to his mouth. He chewed in silence then said, “Not bad. Not good, but not bad. I especially like the crunchy bits.”
After the meal, Lou lay on her bunk and closed her eyes. Her head ached. As she listened to Staci singing, she thought how nice it was to be at sea. One could do what one wanted when one wanted to. So long as Captain Jim agreed, that was.
Lou pushed back into the pillows and listened.
Staci’s singing about waves filtered from the galley.
When she finished, Jim yelled “Very apt Stace.”
“Glad you like it,” came the reply.
Lou closed her eyes and with the gentle rocking of the boat and Staci’s singing she went to sleep.
When she woke, it was dark. From the galley came the sounds of plates and cups being put away.
Jim stood in the doorway. He smiled. “Hello, dreamer.”
“What time is it?” Lou asked, struggling to sit up, her head thumping.
“Just gone ten. We’ve had supper. We tried waiting but it was impossible. Do you want anything?”
“Cup of tea, please. I should be on the bridge.”
“You’re OK for a minute.”
Jim soon returned with the tea. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Lou smiled and took a mouthful of the tea. “Sorry I slept so long.”
Jim sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s OK.”
They listened to Staci singing.
“She’s happy even if no one else is,” Lou said.
“Speak for yourself, I’m happy.”
“You know what I mean. What’s the weather forecast?”
“Good. Overcast, possible rain, moderate south-south westerly winds.”
“Maybe you should listen to the shipping forecast once in a while.”
“I did. No nasty storms forecast, just nice ones.”
Lou swung her legs over the edge of the bunk. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
Jim looked closely at her. “Are you OK?”
“Got a headache.”
“Back to bed then.”
“No. You need to sleep. You’ve been up all day.”
“I can manage. The autopilot’s on, so I can grab a few minutes now and then. You take your tablets and sleep. You can sail tomorrow if your headache has gone. Captain’s orders.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Lou took the pills, gratefully got back under the duvet and closed her eyes.
~*~
Jim watched Lou worriedly for a while, then went back up to the bridge where Staci waited.
“Hiya,” she said. “Nice sleep?”
“I wish, kiddo.”
Staci turned. “I thought you were Lou.”
“She’s got a headache. I told her to stay in bed.”
“You can’t sail all night as well.”
“Single handers do it all the time. I’ll be fine.”
Staci looked worried. “Jim, what if one of us gets sick? What if she’s really ill?”
“We’ll head for the nearest port. They do have hospitals in Europe. Look, it won’t happen, OK? It’s just a headache. She’ll be fine. Go to bed.”
“OK. See you in the morning.”
“Night, kiddo.”
~*~
When Staci arrived on the bridge at 4:30 AM, Jim was almost dropping.
“Lie down and sleep,” she told him. “I’ll watch for a bit.”
“It’s dark still. I can’t leave you alone.”
“It’ll be light in about twenty minutes. Anyway, the autopilot does all the work. Besides, if you sleep on the bridge I won’t be alone, will I?”
“Guess not. OK, then. Five minutes.”
Jim stirred as the radar warning bleeped. He opened his eyes, his vision blurred, and glanced over at his sister.
She seemed to be handling things.
The alarm sounded again, and he sat up.
Lou appeared beside him.
He started to get up, but Lou pushed him down.
“She’s doing OK,” she whispered.
Slowly Staci moved
Avon
onto a new heading and passed another boat safely. Then she turned the wheel to the right and put
Avon
back on to the original course heading. She engaged the autopilot, let go of the wheel and sighed with relief.
Jim and Lou started clapping.
“Well done, kiddo.”
“How long have you two been sitting there?”
“I woke as soon as the radar proximity warning went off. Lou came up soon after. You seemed to be handling things OK so we decided to watch.”
“You rat.”
Lou looked at her. “Hey, that’s not nice. The rats wouldn’t like being compared to Jim, at all.”
“How’s your headache?”
“Better, thanks.”
“I’m off to bed then,” Jim yawned. “I’ll make some tea en route though.” He knew from looking at Lou, the headache wasn’t gone. But if she thought she could manage, then he wouldn’t stop her. That was just asking for trouble he didn’t need right now. Jim brought her some tea and then went back below. He lay on his bed and closed his eyes.
Staci came in. “Jim?”
“I was the last time I checked.”
“Fool boy.” She sat on the bed next to him. “Do you know what the day after tomorrow is?”
“Saturday.” Jim forced his eyes open and looked at her.
“The date, silly, not the day.”
“Um, fourteenth, I think.”
“And?”
“It’s Lou’s birthday.”
Jim sat up. “Oh.”
“What are we going to do? I haven’t got her a card or anything.”
“You can make a card and a cake.”
“It’s not the same though. You have to have presents.”
“We’ll think of something, don’t worry.”
8
The afternoon sun shone strongly through the windows. The sea was calm and the sails flapped in the breeze. As she put the kettle on, Lou heard Staci singing above her. She glanced at the calendar on the wall. Red crosses marked off the days since they had left.
A question mark was placed on June seventeenth as that was when Jim reckoned they would reach the Canaries. Two days until her birthday. So much for presents and parties and cake this year. Still, part of growing up was taking responsibilities for their actions, as her mother kept telling her.
Two days until she hit the big sixteen. Why was it that at one point being twelve seemed grown up, then when one got to twelve one realized it was no different to being eleven? Then sixteen is the next milestone. Probably no different to fifteen, but there was all this fuss over it.
Make the right choices and life will fall at my feet. Hah. In my dreams, perhaps
.
The kettle boiled and she made the tea. Putting it in perspective, she decided that it made no difference how old one was. At sixteen, she could get married, but she couldn’t drink alcohol at her reception or drive away on honeymoon. At eighteen she could vote. At twenty-one she got the front door key, although most people had it years earlier than that. And at forty, life began. Or so the saying went. So were the years before forty just a dress rehearsal?
Pouring the tea, she laughed at that thought. She had a badge at home somewhere saying life had no dress rehearsal. Oh, well, in a hundred years’ time who’d care? Life was too short to worry and how had she got from birthdays to the meaning of life, anyway?
“Jim, cup of tea up here,” she called.
“Coming.”
Lou carried hers and Staci’s up to the bridge. “Tea, Stace.”
“Thanks.”
Lou looked at her watch. “Four o’clock and my turn.” She changed places at the helm with Staci, who went below to start dinner. Lou perched on the stool Staci had brought up earlier.
“I thought it looked different up here,” Jim said.
“Well, we decided that we may as well sit here. Better than standing. Anyway we voted and it was carried by a unanimous majority of two.”
~*~
Saturday dawned cloudy and wet.
When Lou woke, Staci was already up. She dressed slowly, trying to put out of her mind that it was her birthday and failing miserably. At home, she thought, she’d get a full English breakfast with the bacon extra crispy, real orange juice with the bits in, hot buttered toast and tea to follow. Then presents.
She pulled the brush roughly through her hair to get rid of the tangles.
No point dwelling on it, you made the decision to leave home, so live with it
. Or as Mum always said “you made your bed, now lie in it.”
Lou put the brush down and made her way up to the galley. No one there.
The engines chugged in the background so Jim and Staci were around somewhere.
Deefer came charging in from the deck, barking excitedly.
“Hey boy,” Lou said, petting him. “I’m pleased to see you, too. Where are the others?” She went up the steps to the bridge. As she reached the top steps, two party poppers exploded, showering her with their contents.
“Surprise.”
Lou smiled and looked round in amazement. A huge banner saying “Happy Birthday Lou” hung across the front window.
“Thank you. I wasn’t expecting anything, never mind all this.”
“It’s your birthday—we have to celebrate,” Staci told her.
“Besides,” Jim laughed, “you know me. Any excuse for a party.”
“Breakfast,” Staci said. “I’ll go organize it.” She disappeared down to the galley.
Lou took over from Jim and as he left the bridge she looked round again at the decorations. Balloons moved in the breeze as the door was open. She could smell bacon cooking and wondered briefly if it was wishful thinking.
Fifteen minutes later, Staci came up carrying a tray. “Breakfast, Lou.”
Lou was greeted with a tray containing a full English breakfast, glass of orange juice, toast and mug of tea. Her eyes filled with tears. “How did you guys know?”
“Smart guess,” Staci laughed. “Eat while it’s hot. I’ll stand watch for you.”
Lou took the tray and sat at the chart table with it. She tucked in eagerly. “Are you guys having some?”
“No. Birthday treat just for you.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Lou said, putting down the knife and fork.
“It’s perfectly fair,” Jim told her as he came on to the bridge. “We wanted to give you something you wanted for your birthday. Now eat or I shall feed you.”
“OK.”
“Toast, Staci?”
“Thanks. So when do we tell her?”
Lou looked up. “Tell who what?”
Jim ignored her. “I think we should wait.”
“Are you sure? I mean it might be better that she knows.”
“Tell me what?”
Staci looked at Jim. “No you’re right—tell her later. Don’t want to ruin her day after all.”
Lou put down the knife and fork and looked from one to the other. “Will you two cut this out and just tell me?”
“Later.” Staci and Jim chorused together.
“Fine, later.” She inhaled deeply, loving the smell of freshly crisped bacon.
Jim added, “Now be a good girl and finish your breakfast. All good things come to them that wait.”
Lou finished her breakfast and took over at the helm.
Jim and Staci made her wait until almost lunchtime before they told her what they had planned.
That afternoon was the most fun they’d had since they had left home two weeks previously. Jim had planned an extensive list of games—charades, statues, the chocolate game, hunt the monster, bingo, what’s the time Mr. Wolf, and even pass the parcel.
Lou hadn’t played most of the games for years. Of course, she won pass the parcel— which contained an IOU note for one birthday present in the first place they docked. “Oh, thank you so much,” she said grinning at them.
Jim hugged her. “You’re welcome. And we haven’t finished yet.”
“Sorry? You’ve given me so much already. I don’t need anything more.”
“There’s one thing missing. Something that no party is complete without.” He called down to the galley. “Are you ready, Staci?”
“Yes,” came the reply.
“This way then, birthday girl.” He led Lou down to the galley.
On the table was the cake with sixteen candles burning on the top of it.
Lou’s eyes filled with tears again and rubbing them fiercely, she blew out her candles.
“Not crying again?” Jim asked.
Lou poked her tongue out.
Jim shook his head and handed Lou the cake knife. “Here, cut this before I die of starvation.”
“Please?” Lou prompted.
“Pretty please, with sugar and cherries on the top.” Jim winked.
“Please would suffice,” Lou said cutting the cake. She cut four pieces and put one down for Deefer. “You don’t get a bigger piece for putting sugar and cherries on the top.”
“Well, it was worth a try.” Jim sighed.
After tea, Jim took the leftover cake to the bridge and spread the world map out on the chart table. He called Staci up and distracted Lou from the helm for a while. “We have a decision to make,” he told them. “We’re about to pass Madeira. That puts us about five hundred kilometers from the Canaries. We average about one hundred and fifty a day so we’re about three and a half days away. What we need to decide is where we go.”