Chapter 82
It was a relief to say it out loud, Tug realised, to give voice to the insidious fear that had been niggling him almost from the moment they went under tow.
‘Where then?’ Robin said, after a moment. ‘If you’re right, which way are we heading and what’s in front?’
The bloke might look and dress like an extra from Pirates of the Caribbean, but he didn’t go in for dramatics and, for that, Tug was grateful.
‘We’re heading north and nothing.’ Tug used his head to indicate the starboard side of the boat. ‘The islands are over there. We wouldn’t have come this far west if we were going to St Mary’s.’
Again, that biting feeling that something was very wrong.
Their present course made no sense. Come to think of it, this ill-advised trip had been wrong from the bloody start.
Tug told himself to breathe, that he had four women and Captain Jack Sparrow to take care of. He had to keep his shit together.
‘Did they actually say that’s where they’re taking us?’ Robin asked.
It was a good question, and Tug had to admit they hadn’t.
The focus of the harbour master, once he’d come alongside, had been on checking the number of people on board Gemini, their state of health, the seaworthiness of the yacht and what they could remember about the events of the night.
After that, they’d had the tricky task of securing a tow.
They’d set off without further discussion and Tug had assumed their destination.
Something else he really shouldn’t have done.
There it was again, that nagging feeling that he was missing something, that if he could only see what was staring him in the face, all this might start to make some sense.
‘There’s no point taking us anywhere else,’ he said. ‘St Mary’s is the administrative centre. It has the airport and the ferry terminal. Police station. Hospital. These guys will be based there.’
‘I’d go with the foghorn,’ Robin said. ‘If they ignore that, we’ll know something’s up.’
A gull flew low, screeching above their heads. To Tug, it sounded like the bloody bird was telling him to do something. What, though? What was it he was supposed to do? What was he supposed to see?
‘The girls will be cool,’ Robin went on. ‘None of them go in for hysterics.’
Tug took the foghorn out of his pocket, released the handlebar and pressed down. The deep, sonorous boom rang out across the waves.
‘Just making a phone call,’ Robin yelled back at the cockpit.
Tug kept his eyes on the boat ahead. Nothing. No sign of life in the harbour master’s cabin and they were drawing close to the Bishop lighthouse. Ahead, if his memory served, were the Crim Rocks. Over thirty ships had been lost on those bastards.
He sounded the horn again. Again, nothing. There was no way they hadn’t heard it. The heavy sigh seemed to deflate his whole body.
So, it wasn’t over, after all. Somehow, he’d known it wouldn’t be.
When the yacht had been under tow for over an hour, when all his attempts to attract the attention of the harbour master’s boat had failed and when they’d reached the point at which there was nothing ahead, Tug realised he had to cut Gemini loose.
He’d have done it already, but he’d made the mistake – or possibly had the good sense, he wasn’t sure – of telling Robin his plans and Robin had insisted on consulting the others.
‘I’m not sure we can trust these guys,’ Tug explained. ‘They won’t respond, and we’re heading into the Atlantic. The further we get from the islands, the more trouble we’ll be in when the weather gets up again.’
He pointed over the port side, to where clouds were gathering in the western sky.
‘That’s another front coming in,’ he said.
‘Sometime in the next few hours, the winds will get up again. We could see another storm like the one we had to deal with last night. And that’s with a severely damaged boat that’s letting in water. ’
The responses were exactly what he’d predicted.
That’s the harbour master, he must know what he’s doing. Of course they’re taking us to safety, why would they not? We’ve no engine, no instruments, how can we manage without them?
This. This was why the navy had clear lines of command.
‘We still have sails,’ he argued. ‘In daylight, and with calm conditions, there’s a good chance I can get us to one of the islands. I’m not guaranteeing it, but I think we’d stand a better chance than we would in the Atlantic with another storm.’
‘Let’s take a vote,’ Sabri suggested, as he’d known she would. ‘Hands up those who agree with Tug.’
A moment, when no one moved, when all eyes danced from one face to the next. Then Holly’s hand went up, followed a second later by Tara’s. Tug looked at Robin, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. So much for brotherly solidarity.
‘Three against three,’ Sabri said. ‘So we stick with the status quo.’
Robin’s hand went up. ‘Sorry, ladies,’ he said to Sabri and then Cheryl. ‘There’s something very odd going on. I think we’re better off relying on ourselves.’
It was done and Tug had to hope he’d finally got something right. ‘I’ll untie the rope,’ he announced. ‘I’m not sure how they’ll react, so be prepared for some evasive manoeuvres. Rob, we’ll need to get the main up right away. Sabri, hold her steady. I’ll take the helm as soon as we’re free.’
‘Tug, I think we’re turning round,’ Cheryl said.
Sure enough, the harbour master had come hard to starboard.
Sabri, caught up in the conversation, hadn’t noticed, but now the line was dragging their bow around too.
Tug stepped up onto the side deck. ‘Follow her round, Sabri. We’ve no choice but to stay behind her while we’re attached.
I’ll see if I can find out what’s happening. ’
Ignoring Tara’s pleas to harness on, Tug strode up to the bow. The harbour master had performed a ninety-degree turn; they were heading directly east now. Tug raised his binoculars and saw another gleaming white tower on a rounded lump of rock.
‘What’s happening?’ Robin was right behind him.
‘Round Island lighthouse directly ahead,’ Tug told him.
‘We’re not making for the Atlantic anymore?’
‘No, we’re not.’
‘Where then?’
‘I think they’re taking us to St Helen’s.’