Looking back at Tony and Phil, she smiled. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you that lifeboat, if only so I don’t have to face Mrs. Bainbridge, if we don’t manage it.”
“She’s got it rough, both her men out there; my wife hates me doing it,” Tony said. “But she knows I have to volunteer, it’s only fair, after all. Mick saved me when my boat went down.”
“See you later.” Carly walked away, wondering how many charities were kept running due to a sense of obligation by the volunteers to help others in the way they themselves had been assisted. It was almost certainly why Daniel joined the Padstow crew, it was a shame she couldn’t do something similar, but with an injured leg and a fear of water, she’d be no good on a life craft, more hindrance than help. No, she’d continue her work on the shore, raising money for those brave souls who ventured out on nights when the waves reached fifteen feet.
Rubbing her eyes, she bought a coffee from the hot drinks stall to keep herself awake and strode over to her brother. He smiled when she approached, pointing to the blank spaces on the counter in front of him. A couple of years ago, he never would have helped out at something like this. Until her accident, Liam thought only of himself, but seeing the help she received from the town had changed him.
“We’ve done well,” he said. “Sold nearly all the stock, just a couple of cashmere scarves left.”
“I had a feeling they’d stick, they’re the most expensive items,” Carly said, reaching out to stroke the soft wool. “But the cold wind might persuade people later. The gala’s about to open, did you want to see Imogen’s speech?”
“No, that’s all right, I’ll stay here. You should go, can’t miss your own gala opening after the work you put in.”
She nodded, not wanting to watch it, but knowing she should be there, if only to show a bit of support for the girl who’d turned up last night to receive bad news. The situation between Daniel and Imogen wasn’t her fault, but it made her feel uncomfortable.
“I’ll see you in a bit then, let me know if you need a break.”
Her cane slipped on the thin coating of snow as she strode away and she slowed down, cheeks stinging from the increasing wind. Crowds lined the harbour, young men standing on tiptoe for a better view of Imogen, who’d certainly drawn far more people than the mayor would have. She just had to hope that there was something for them to watch.
Reaching the rail, she resisted the urge to glance down to see if any people sat in the small sailing dinghies moored to the jetty.
“Heard you’re having problems with your competitors?” a voice said.
Duncan stood behind her, shrouded in a black winter coat that reached his feet, making him appear taller and more menacing.
“Daniel’s talking to them,” she said.
“Good old Daniel, handy your boyfriend returned to rescue you.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“No, I suppose not. He’s got that other girl with him now, I see, blonde and very attractive.”
“What do you want, Duncan?”
“I don’t want anything, I’m just here helping out. Talking to people, checking it’s all going well, because we don’t want any mistakes now, do we? Not with the media here, there’d be nothing worse than a publically reported humiliation.”
“What media?”
“Oh, didn’t anyone tell you? The local news teams have turned up to televise the races, should be on tonight at six. Unless we don’t have enough competitors of course, or people of such low value that it’s not worth the effort. At which point they might do a programme on the terrible waste of police and council time over a gala that was destined to fail from day one.”
She swallowed, staring at his wide, flat face, her fist bunching in her pocket, how tempting it was to smack him straight between the eyes. The old Carly would have gone ahead and taken the consequences, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction now. She could just picture his bruised face and woebegone expression at the next fundraising meeting, the one when she was thrown out for assaulting a member of the committee. No, she had to play this carefully, he had reasons for not wanting a life station in Haven Bay and by getting herself banned, she’d be doing exactly what he wanted.
She grinned. “That’s excellent, I’m glad they’ve arrived, extra publicity. We might get some more donations into the fund. Now, excuse me Duncan, I’ve got work to do.”
Walking away, she dug her cane into the cobblestones. No doubt some of the people he’d been talking to that morning were the sailing crew, telling them that the committee had plenty of money for prizes and that they were foolish to risk their boats for such a small fee. She had to find a way to get him off the committee; he’d changed from a mere irritation into someone who could be downright dangerous. If she had solid evidence, she’d go to Mick and tell him. The thought of the brave coxswain of the lifeboat crew challenging the jumped-up little local councillor made her smile.
Farther up the street, Imogen stood on a small wooden stage erected beside the stairs leading to the landing jetty, clutching a large pair of scissors in her hand. A blue ribbon had been tied across the steps and a camera crew crouched in front, holding a boom over her head. It was clear why she was a top TV presenter, even at such short notice, she’d written a nice, cute little speech with an emotional plea at the end for funds. Considering this was her first time in Haven Bay, she made it sound like the place was a personal favourite of hers, ending with a wide smile that most of the crowd responded to with a loud clap, as she cut the ribbon.
Carly looked away, it was painful to hear the girl praising a town she wouldn’t have cause to ever visit again. She’d helped them out for no personal gain at all, unlike the sailors, demanding their extra cash. Craning her head, she peered down at the empty landing jetty and cursed; it didn’t look like Daniel had been successful.
But Imogen moved back to the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve got a special guest to announce, the double gold Olympic winner, Daniel Edwards!”
Carly’s mouth dropped open, this hadn’t been part of the plan. What was he up to? Her breathing quickened as he stepped in front of the crowd, unfazed by the faces looking up at him. He’d unfastened his jacket and it hung open, showing a flash of red T-shirt that glowed against the grey sky.
“Well, Haven Bay,” he said. “I’ve heard there’s going to be a sailing event here.” The crowd cheered. “And I challenge the sailors among you to a race, if one of you can beat me, a double gold winner … ”
Carly caught her breath: that was the reason behind Imogen’s over the top announcement, she’d feared he was getting above himself. She stepped nearer. Daniel knew his fellow competitors, they could never resist a challenge.
“ … I’ll personally increase the prize fund to five thousand pounds, with an additional five thousand going to the lifeboat fund. But you’ve got to beat me first.” He pressed his lips together and shook his head as he surveyed the crowd. “Not sure anyone here can do that.”
The crowd roared, with a mixture of laughter and encouragement. Mouth open, Carly shook her head. She didn’t want Daniel to save her, now she would have to be grateful and she didn’t want any sense of obligation to him. Why couldn’t he have left her to deal with it?
Probably because he knew she’d just get angry and achieve nothing. His methods would work, but they hurt her pride, and after striving for so long to be independent, it was humiliating to have him come sweeping in to rescue her. Or was she just ungrateful? He was being nice to her and all she could do was criticise.
She didn’t want to watch him sail, that was the real problem. It had been hard enough to see it during the Olympics, and that had been on the TV. Now she would have to stand at the rail and wave with a smile plastered on her face, while her legs trembled and hands shook. She’d been a better sailor than him once, now she waited on the harbour wall with the land folk, while he sped out to sea, waves rushing beneath his boat. This was why she couldn’t forgive him, why she could never spend her life with him. In order for them to be together, he would have to give up sailing and she could never ask him to do that, because it had almost destroyed her to lose it.
Finding an empty spot on the rail, she leaned over it. Men and women dressed in wet weather gear were filing down the stairs with defiant expressions. So many of them in fact, there might not be enough boats. The woman standing beside her turned and smiled, her eyes gleaming with excitement; it would have been great if Carly felt the same. But she stood numbly as the painters were cast off and boats pushed into the harbour, not even smiling when the breeze caught the sails, blowing them out and sending them racing to the start line. Her eyes went to the sails, those billowing sails, how often she’d held them in her control, watching their every twist and slack, knowing instinctively when to tack. She used to drop her head back and grin at the wonderful feeling of racing, of being alive, of being young.
Tears chilled her cheeks and she wiped them away with a glove. How she missed it! She would have coped with losing the use of her leg if only she’d still been able to sail, but she couldn’t forget the sound of the mast snapping, the sensation of being thrown into the water, to gasp and choke in the vicious December waves.
Shuddering, she covered her face with her hands. Would she ever forget? It haunted her sleep, it filled her daydreams; the slam of a car door made her jump. Water swirling down the plughole reminded her of the rush of the ocean in her ears. Unable to sleep longer than a few hours, it affected her moods, leaving her irritable and angry. Seeing Daniel race across the harbour was more then she could bear. He didn’t suffer the same fears she did, his life had remained virtually unchanged.
Raising her head, she stared across the harbour, Daniel was in the lead, thick, white foam flying from the back of his boat, the other dinghies behind, tiny dark figures clinging to the ropes as sailors leant over the gunwales. Had she once dared to do that? Hang her head inches from the waves? Yes, she had, and loved it. Now she would be too scared, because she knew how easily an accident could happen: a hand slipping on a rope, sailing in poor weather, trusting someone else’s judgement rather than her own.
She didn’t have to stand here any longer, it was enough to see the boats off the landing jetty, there was no need to torture herself. Pulling her hat closer to her head, she jumped when a hand closed around her arm and squeezed.
“It’s only me,” Shane said. “How are you doing, my girl?”
She twisted around to face him, her chest tight. Shane was a good man, but she didn’t want to see him; she knew what he would ask her.
“I’m fine,” she said, “shop’s doing well.”
“Excellent. And has Daniel got you back in a dinghy again?”
She stiffened. “No, not yet. I’m not ready.”
“The longer you leave it, the harder it will get.”
“So you keep saying.” She turned away, her pleasure at seeing him vanishing. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?
“Carly.”
Force of habit made her look at him, he stood watching her, his mouth turned down and eyes sympathetic. “I’m putting together a team for the Paralympics,” he said. “I’d like you to try out for it.”
“Not this again. I’ve already said no, several times.” She didn’t want to join the Paralympics, it would be like admitting she was disabled, which she wasn’t. She could manage.
“I think it might be worth talking to your doctor about your phobia.”
“My doctor? What’s he got to do with it?”
“There are treatments available for post-traumatic stress disorder.”
She froze. “There’s nothing wrong with me, I just don’t want to sail again. You wouldn’t either, if you’d almost drowned.”
“I do understand, I had a similar accident as a teenager. I didn’t have the injuries you have, but the current sucked me under. It took me ages to get the confidence to swim again, but I’m very glad I did.”
“Good, I’m happy it worked out for you, but that doesn’t mean it’s the same for me, and I’m getting tired of you and Daniel pushing me.”
Shane smiled. “At least he’s trying anyway, I was afraid he had no interest in getting back on the team.”
“What?”
He looked at her, mouth set. “I told Daniel he could join the team again if he got you sailing.”
“How dare you! How dare you both. I’m not a bargaining chip and his career is nothing to do with me. That’s a terrible thing for you to do, so unfair. I shouldn’t be left responsible for him.”
“I agree, it is unfair, but I couldn’t think of any other way of getting you back on the water again. Neither of you are going to be able to carry on with your lives until you sort out what happened two years ago. You need to forgive him, and he needs to stop blaming himself, but I don’t think you’re ever going to do that until you start sailing again.” He took hold of her hand. “No one can give you the use of your leg back, we can’t make you whole again, but we can give you back sailing. I know how much you loved it.”
She snatched her hand away. “Leave me alone, Shane. I don’t need rescuing by you, or anyone else.” Grabbing her cane, she walked into the crowd.
Daniel climbed out the boat and raised his hand to acknowledge the cheers. He’d set off with the intention of losing, so he could pay a larger donation, but once he was racing with the bright sails following close, his competitive streak kicked in. The money would still be paid, there was nothing to stop him doing an anonymous contribution. Tying up the dinghy, he strode past his fellow sailors, ignoring their attempts to talk to him; it was disgraceful the way they tried to blackmail Carly. The best thing about him winning was that none of them were going to get any prize money, they didn’t deserve it.
Taking the steps up to the harbour two at a time, his sailing boots slipping on the algae, he pushed through the people waiting at the top. Where was she? A couple of people waved autograph books and usually he would sign, but not today. She’d been standing here when he set off. He scanned the rail again, searching for a flash of red hair.
“Daniel,” a female voice called, over the crowd.