Chapter Fifty-Two
Flora couldn’t stand this any longer. She had been pacing around the house waiting and wondering and worrying. Pulling on her coat, she said, ‘I’m going down to the shore, Gran. I’ll wait for him there.’
‘You’ll get soaked through, love. Honestly there’s nothing you can do right now and Brodie won’t want you out there worrying about him. It’s lashing down.’
She shrugged in frustration. ‘But I can’t just wait here doing nothing. I need to know he’s okay. I need to be there and see him when he gets back.’
‘Flora,’ pleaded her gran. ‘Stay here. Just a while longer.’
‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, Gran, but I have to go. I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry. I’ll let you know as soon as there’s news.’
The wind caught her hood and blew it down as she stepped outside, the rain drenching her hair in a moment.
She wrapped her coat tighter around her and marched determinedly down the path to make her way to the shore.
Her heart was pounding as the wind whipped around her face.
The street was deserted. Everyone else was indoors, sheltering from the storm.
As she reached the beach, she could see a few of the shore crew gathered by the shed, their eyes scanning the horizon.
Flora joined them and fixed her gaze on the dark stretch of water.
Was Brodie safe? She hated to think of him out there.
The cold bit at her cheeks, but she didn’t move.
She just waited and watched, willing him to come back.
But she could tell everyone was worried.
It was written on their faces and the only sound was tense, clipped voice crackling over the radio being held by one of the shore crew.
Her stomach twisted as she heard a few words .
. . casualties in the water . . . search widened .
. . still missing. She wished she could do something, anything to help.
But Flora knew that there was nothing that she could do. It was a case of waiting and praying.
She was shaking with anxiety, her mouth dry as she wondered how Brodie was feeling right now.
She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like out there on the water.
The loch looked angry and cold and not like the inviting, sparkling water she had grown to love these past few weeks.
Then her thoughts were interrupted when she heard another crackle on the radio .
. . found . . . all casualties on board . . . alive.
Flora pressed a hand to her mouth as there was a collective sigh of relief and a few mutters of Thank God and Jeezo, that was starting to get a bit close.
She could still make out a few updates on the radio, but the most important thing was that the boat was heading back to shore.
Then she saw paramedics arriving on the beach and turned to see an ambulance had arrived by the shed.
Her heart was hammering. Why was there an ambulance?
But Stuart, one of the shore crew, seemed to notice the look of worry on her face.
‘Don’t worry,’ he reassured her. ‘We always call the emergency services out if the casualties have been in the water for a while. We just need to be sure.’ He smiled kindly at her.
‘The crew are all okay. They’ll be back soon. ’
The storm had eased; the wind had died and the rain had stopped.
The minutes felt endless as she stood there waiting and watching, moving aside to let the crew get ready for their arrival.
The last thing she wanted was to get in the way.
But she couldn’t leave. Not until she could see with her own eyes that Brodie was okay.
Then the boat came into view, the sound of its engine the only noise as everyone waited and watched in silence.
Her breath caught as the boat reached the jetty and the casualties were taken off, wrapped in foil blankets to keep them warm.
Then she saw Brodie and the relief hit in her waves.
For a moment everything and everyone else disappeared and all she could see was him.