Chapter 80
Cheryl woke with a feeling of dread in her heart. This was worse, far worse, than when her mother had announced her disinheritance plans. This was the reappearance of a nightmare she thought she’d left behind years ago.
In the dark hours, thrown this way and that by the bucking motion of the boat, when the crashing of the waves against the hull had been close to deafening, she’d realised why they were here.
With a clarity that surprised her, because it wasn’t often she could organise her thoughts so well, Cheryl knew exactly what this group had in common and when they’d met before.
Except, Holly didn’t fit at all. So, maybe she was wrong. How Cheryl hoped she was wrong. But still, the tense feeling in her gut told her disaster was hovering.
And now, something was different. Above the relentless pounding of the waves she could hear the steady hum of an engine. And the boat was upright. They weren’t sailing anymore.
Once the realisation had hit her, Cheryl had had a restless night, tossed from one side of the bunk to the other, her fitful dozing constantly interrupted by clattering on deck and crashing below.
Only the difficulties of moving around and her constant nausea when she was upright had kept her where she was.
Now, though, she desperately needed the loo.
The engine noise grew louder. Something heavy slithered across the deck. Men’s voices called to each other. Something was happening and she couldn’t hide down here any longer. Besides, she really had to pee. Awkwardly, she manoeuvred her body around until she could swing her legs off the bunk.
And found herself standing in water. Panic rearing, she pulled open her cabin door, causing more water to slosh over her ankles and soak the bottom of the stretch pants she’d slept in.
Paddling her way through the main cabin, Cheryl thought again about the big realisation of the night before. Of the whole group, she was the least clever, surely the last to figure out a puzzle. She had to be wrong. It was just the darkness twisting her thoughts as it so often did.
She couldn’t say anything. Not yet.
Above the companionway steps she caught sight of Holly at the steering wheel. The girl didn’t look to be panicking. Maybe all this water was normal.
Cheryl’s feet were freezing by the time she’d squeezed into the impossibly tiny space the others called the heads.
She managed to get her pants down and twist herself round so that she was poised above a toilet that looked as though it belonged in a nursery.
As she lowered herself, she realised she was probably about to see the token again.
When she was done, finally, she found her shoes and coat and climbed the steps to join the others.
Holly was still at the helm, Tara on one seat, Sabri on the other.
All three were pale-faced and frowning, their attention fixed on the bow.
Knowing she’d fall any second, Cheryl launched herself at the seat beside Sabri, tried to suppress the grunt of pain when she landed heavily, and then she too looked towards the front.
Tug and Robin were talking to two men on another boat, this one bottle green with a big yellow cabin. Hovering a few metres away, it was noisy and sturdy and the white lettering on the side said HARBOUR MASTER.
‘What’s happening?’ She kept her voice low, so she could be ignored if necessary. She didn’t want to be a nuisance.
‘Our engine’s failed and we’re taking on water,’ Holly answered. ‘This is the harbour master for the Isles of Scilly. He’s going to tow us.’
‘Where’s Craig?’ Cheryl asked. She’d already ascertained that there was no sign of the tall, handsome ex-fireman. Or the skipper come to that. Maybe they were on the other boat.
She became conscious of a stillness among the women.
‘We’re not sure,’ Holly said, after a moment. ‘But there’s a search going on for them. With a bit of luck, they’ll be picked up.’
It took a few minutes, of hesitant questions on her side, and incomplete and unsatisfying explanations from the others, but finally Cheryl understood.
Sometime in the night, Craig and Thomas had vanished, had probably fallen overboard, and with that knowledge, all Cheryl’s doubts of the night came flooding back.
She looked from one face to another, as Robin and Tug returned, waiting for one of them to say what she’d spent most of the night mulling over.
This has happened before!
The harbour master fired up his engines, ropes connecting the two boats pulled tight and they began to move.
It was obvious, wasn’t it? Why had no one else realised?
‘I’ve thought of something,’ she said, hesitantly.
‘What’s the plan now,’ Sabri asked, in a much louder voice.
‘The authorities at St Mary’s will want to talk to us,’ Tug replied. ‘We have two missing crew. They’ll want to know what happened.’
I want to know what happened, Cheryl thought. Two people have gone overboard, and no one told me. Am I really that unimportant?
‘We can’t go to St Mary’s,’ Holly snapped. ‘We don’t have time.’
‘I thought they’d take us onto their boat,’ Tara said. ‘We’ve at least two inches of water below.’
No one had warned Cheryl about that either.
Had they all forgotten she was onboard? Besides, she hadn’t eaten in hours and was hungry.
But how could she ask for food when everyone was ignoring her?
They’d tell her to go back down and find it for herself, and she didn’t think she could face walking through that water again.
‘This is still a pretty big sea to get people from one boat to another.’ Tug squeezed himself onto the seat next to Sabri, pushing Cheryl against the cabin wall. ‘We’re safer here as long as we’re afloat.’
‘We can’t go to St Mary’s,’ Holly repeated. ‘Tug, talk to them. Tell them.’
Tug had positioned himself to be directly opposite Tara, who really didn’t look like she’d spent a rough night. She’d even managed to comb her hair and rebraid it into a neat plait.
‘How long will they keep us?’ Tara shot a sympathetic glance Holly’s way. ‘The authorities, I mean.’
Tug frowned. ‘Hard to say.’
He hadn’t even acknowledged Cheryl’s arrival on deck; neither had Robin, come to that.
‘I’ve thought of something,’ she repeated.
‘We have to get to St Helen’s,’ Holly insisted.
‘Things have changed, Holly,’ Sabri said. ‘We lost two people last night. And this boat isn’t seaworthy. It’s time to talk to the police. They’ll send someone to get Charlie.’
Holly gave a frantic look around the group. ‘No, we can’t risk it. Quick has a helicopter. And high-speed boats. He won’t let the police get anywhere near him.’
Sabri said, ‘You’re not thinking straight, Holly. I’d be the same, in your shoes, but you’re in no state to make decisions.’
‘Don’t you dare—’
‘She’s right, love,’ Tug jumped in. ‘I didn’t want to say anything, but this boat has been sabotaged. The engine’s been tampered with, and the flooding is deliberate. We might never know what happened to Craig and Thomas, but we can’t rule out foul play.’
Tears filled Holly’s eyes. ‘He’s ten years old. He’s still a baby. We can’t just leave him.’
Tara grabbed Holly’s hand. ‘We won’t. I promise you we won’t. But it’s beyond our control now.’
Cheryl wasn’t going to say anything, she decided. She’d probably got it all wrong. And if they weren’t going to St Helen’s now, it didn’t matter anymore, did it?