Read November-Charlie Online

Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

November-Charlie (13 page)

Once inside, Lou locked the door behind her. She put the bread and cake away, and then, taking the paper to the bridge, started the pre-sailing checklist.

Footsteps on the deck made her jump.

She quickly dropped to the floor and crawled to the stairs. She waited, her heart in her mouth.

Deefer watched her, his tail wagging. He barked a greeting and whined as Lou put a finger to her lips.

“Hello? Lou?” It was Jim.

Lou released a cry of relief and went flying to the galley. “It’s you.”

Staci placed the bags she carried on the table. “Of course. Were you expecting the FBI?”

Jim glanced from Lou to his sister. “Are you OK to put the stuff away, Stace? I want to show Lou the stamps I bought.”

“You and your stamps. Go on then.”

“The light is better on the bridge. Come on, Lou.” He led the way and once there, turned to face her. She was physically shaking now, and Jim took her in his arms and hugged her. “I’m sorry if we scared you.”

She handed him the paper. “Look.”

Jim paled under his tan as he read the article. “You really were expecting the FBI, weren’t you?”

“The local cops, at any rate. I’ve done the pre-sailing checks and got food for six weeks. Have you refueled?”

“Yes, diesel and water. I don’t want Staci seeing this. I’ll put it in the bin on the quay. We leave ASAP.”

“Are we all paid up here?”

“Yeah. I did it last night when we arrived. I’d intended to leave today anyway, but we go now rather than after dinner.”

As Jim headed out, Lou went to the galley. “We’re going now,” she said. “Jim wants to get as far in daylight as we can.”

“Can’t we have lunch first?”

“Apparently not. I’ll go and help him cast off.”

Lou caught the mooring ropes as he threw them to her, stashed them neatly on deck and covered them with the tarpaulin. As she returned inside, the engines started and the anchor hit home as Jim raised it.

Avon
moved from the dock.

Jim had become quite expert at handling her and turned her on a dime, heading out in to open sea.

By the time lunch was ready, La Palma had vanished from view and some of Lou’s fear with it. Unnerved just wasn’t the word although she tried to convince herself it was.

The sun began to set, and with the night came a strong tail wind.

Jim cut the engines and let the wind take her. He plotted the course and set the autopilot. The stage was set for the next leg of their journey.

The crossing of the Atlantic.

 

 

 

 

 

10

 

June turned into July and life on board
Avon
carried on as much as it had before. The shift system worked well, with Lou and Jim even pulling the odd all-nighter just to see if it was possible. Having done the occasional all-night stitching session, Lou found it relatively easy.

July sixth came and went with no sign of dinner being ready.

Finally from the galley the sounds of dishes and chopping came.

“Cold tea by the sounds of it,” Jim said glumly.

“And that’s more than you deserve.”

A crash echoed from the galley, followed by a single piercing scream, which was cut off by another resounding crash. There was a thud and then silence.

Jim and Lou converged on the galley, Lou getting to the steps a fraction before Jim.

Deefer stood guarding something, barking frantically.

Staci lay on the floor, an overturned stool by her feet surrounded by pieces of broken glass and china and an ever-increasing pool of blood. “Staci.” Jim dropped to her side and was about to shake her when Lou stopped him.

“Wait. Deefer, go to the bridge and stay. I’ll see to her. Grab the med bag will you? Then clear away the broken stuff—give me room to work.” Lou grabbed a tea towel and pressed it against the side of Staci’s head.

Jim gave her the opened bag and cleared away the broken pieces.

Lou carefully ran her hands over Staci’s body. “Nothing feels broken,” she said.

“How can you tell?” Jim asked, his voice trembling. “She’s losing a lot of blood.”

“Head wounds always do bleed a lot.”

Lou moved the blood soaked tea towel. “Rinse this in cold water, will you?”

“Don’t you mean hot?”

“Cold. Cold water removes bloodstains, hot water sets them.”

While Jim did that, she gently examined Staci’s head. She cleaned the cut and stuck a plaster over it. “Where’s that torch?” she asked as she finished.

Jim got up and fetched it for her. “Here.”

Lou pulled open Staci’s eyes and shone the torch briefly into them. “Good. Both pupils equal and reactive.”

“Why is that good?”

“Because otherwise she would be in big trouble. Don’t you watch TV? Can you carry her for me please? We need to get her into bed and out of these clothes.”

There was no reaction.

Lou sighed. She didn’t need Jim going south on her now. “Jim.”

“Sorry. What did you say?”

“Can you help me get her into bed?”

“Sure.”

Jim lifted Staci into his arms.

In the cabin, Lou pulled back the duvet and Jim placed his still unconscious sister onto her bed. He was going to sit next to her when Lou stopped him. “Jim, you’re covered in blood. Go and change. She’ll be OK for a minute.” Lou put some clothes on her bed and pushed Jim towards the door. Then she changed Staci into a clean nightie. She went back up to the galley and cleaned the floor. She put all the bloodied clothes in cold water to soak and put the kettle on.

When she returned she found Jim kneeling beside Staci’s bed in the tiny gap between the two bunks.

His shoulders were shaking and tears poured down his face.

Leaving without being noticed, she grabbed the clean clothes from her bed and went back up to the galley. Changing quickly she added her clothes to those already soaking in the sink.

She rinsed them through and then washed and spun them.

The bread that Staci had buttered was on the side, with the unsliced cucumber next to it. She had obviously stood on the stool to get the dishes down and lost her balance.

Lou righted the stool and cleared away some of what Staci had started for tea. She heated up a can of soup and boiled the kettle again. She took the soup and Jim’s tea down to her and Staci’s cabin.

“Here,” Lou said. “Get this down your neck.”

Jim looked up. “I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat. You are no good to her like this.”

“All right.” Jim sat on Lou’s bed, taking the soup.

Lou put the mug of tea on the cupboard that separated the two bunks. She sat on the edge of Staci’s and picking up Staci’s wrist to take her pulse. It was normal, as was her breathing. “She’s doing OK,” Lou told Jim as she checked Staci’s eyes again.

Jim finished his soup and put the bowl down. He picked up his tea. “Why isn’t she awake?”

“I don’t know. Even if she was in hospital right now, they might not know. Maybe she’s just sleeping. I need to go and check the bridge. You get some sleep. Come and take over at two, yeah? If she’s still out, we should phone the coastguard or the navy or lifeboat or something. They do rescue people from mid-ocean, you know.”

“We can’t.”

Lou looked at him crossly.

“Is that what you want? To give up? Remember those newspaper headlines. Every cop in the world is looking for us right now. If we issue a mayday, it’s all over bar the shouting. They won’t fix Staci up and return her to us. Or let me carry on and rescue my parents. They will send us back. Staci will go into care. We’ll never be allowed to stay with Nichola again or see you again. You said yourself, she’s fine, just sleeping.”

“I’m no doctor and that’s what she needs.”

Jim stood up and pushed Lou towards the corridor for a conference. “She’s my sister. I’ll say what she needs.”

“What is it with you? You want her to die, is that it?” Lou yelled.

“No. That’s not true.”

“Then let me call for help,” she said threateningly. Lou put her hands on her hips. She had never backed down from a fight and wouldn’t start now.

“We have come too far. I am not giving up on my parents even if you want to.”

“If she dies how will you feel then?”

“Get out. How dare you.” Despite his angry tone, Jim placed tender hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her out the door.

Lou stepped back, just as angry, and rammed into the doorframe. Her shirt scraped and ripped on the edge of wood, cutting into her arm. Pain filled her, ricocheting from her shoulder down her arm. Her eyes filled with tears and turning, she pulled herself free and fled up the steps.

 

~*~

 

Jim ran up the steps calling her name.

She didn’t answer.

Sobbing was coming from the bridge.

He went up the steps, only to be stopped by Deefer at the top. The dog snarled at him and growled.

“Lou? Are you OK?” He grabbed Deefer’s collar and stroked him, moved past and over to Lou.

Deefer growled again, warning Jim not to upset his mistress any more.

Jim knelt down beside Lou. She was curled up on the couch, heart-rending sobs shaking her body. “Lou, I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Are you OK?”

Lou shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I feel so bad.”

“So you should,” she sobbed. “Staci needs help.”

“There is no excuse for it. I can’t apologize enough.”

Lou looked up. A huge red mark showed through her ripped shirt.

“Oh Lou, I am so sorry,” he repeated. Tears now trickled down his cheeks and he pulled her into his arms. Holding her stiff, resisting body close to him, he cried. He had felt bad before, but seeing what he had done made him feel physically sick. “Forgive me.”

As he held her, his tears soaking her tee shirt, he repeated “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I’m worried about Staci. I know that’s no excuse for what I did.”

Lou looked at him. “You’re not the only one, Jim. I’m worried about her, too. That’s why I want to radio in and ask for advice. Just ask. And you didn’t push me, I sort of lost my balance; I was so angry at you.”

“I shouldn’t have laid hands on you, men don’t do that.”

“I’m OK, Jim.”

But she wasn’t, and Jim knew it.

They were silent for a few minutes, wiping faces and looking away from each other.

Jim broke the silence before it got more awkward. ”Can we radio without them sending help out?”

“Should be able to.”

“I’m still sorry I pushed you. I really am. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Forgive me?”

Lou said nothing. She wiped her eyes again and got up to sit at the helm.

The printer clattered into life.

Jim came up behind her as she tore the sheet off and looked at it.

“What’s that you’ve got there?”

“Storm warning. They’re worried the tropical storm in Bermuda will hit that front coming across from the west. If it does, it gets upgraded to Hurricane Erika. Here.”

Jim took the sheet of paper and checked it off against the chart. “Should miss us,” he said. “We might encounter side winds from the edge of the storm and it may get rough. If we change course we may miss it completely. What do you reckon?”

“You’re the captain.”

“Do you want me to take the helm?”

“No. You can relieve me at two.”

Jim sighed. “Look. We can’t go on like this. I’ve said sorry. I can’t undo what I did. I wish I could but I can’t. What more do I have to do?”

“Leave me alone, Jim. Just leave me alone.”

“If that’s the way you want it.” He scribbled on the notepad. “There’s your new course heading. Effective immediately.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Jim looked at Lou’s back for a minute before leaving the bridge. He washed up the few dishes and realized that Lou hadn’t eaten anything. He made a sandwich and a cup of hot chocolate and took it up to the bridge. “I’ve made you something to eat,” he said. Lou didn’t respond, so he sighed and put it down on the table, before going back below. He went into the cabin and switched on the nightlight, bathing the room in a comforting orange glow. He lay down on Lou’s bed and watched Staci.

Then he turned face down on the bed, overcome with guilt and shame over the way he had treated both his sister and his friend. One he couldn’t apologize to and the other refused to accept his apology.
One tiny pebble can cause many ripples
. Once again, he found that tears were very close to the surface. Closing his eyes, face down before his God, Jim did the only thing he could think of doing. He unburdened himself onto his Savior in prayer.

 

~*~

 

On the bridge, Lou ate her sandwich deep in thought. She didn’t share Jim’s faith. Church was for Sundays. It didn’t intrude on any other part of her life—one day a week was one day too many she reckoned. As soon as she could, she would stop going. She only went now because her mother insisted. Church was boring and not relevant. How could a loving God allow Di and Bill get caught up in an earthquake and then abandoned them when they were working for Him? Why did wars happen? Where was God then? No, she refused to believe in a God who could let things like that happen.

Her thoughts moved on. She knew she’d hurt Jim, too. She needed to apologize to him and ask him to forgive her. Just as she needed to accept his apology and forgive him. Jim didn’t usually get very angry at all, so for him to so completely lose it like that; she must have really touched a nerve. Jim was stuck between two terrors–finding his parents, or losing Staci, who would be his only family if he had lost his parents.

In truth, she had probably hurt him as much as he had hurt her. Her demand to radio in had forced him to choose between the people he loved.

She looked at her watch. Where had the evening gone? She went down to the cabins. Jim was face down on her bed and Staci was either unconscious or merely asleep.

Lou returned to the bridge, checked the course heading was what Jim had wanted and wrote Staci’s fall into the log. She also wrote it up in the official log book and detailed all that she’d done and Staci’s condition. She left the argument/fight out of both logs deliberately. She also noted the weather report they’d received and put the printout in the log.

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