The Storm Sister (The Seven Sisters #2) (16 page)

‘Here we are,’ he said as he bounded up the steps, took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. ‘Mum?’ he called as we entered the hallway and I followed him along
a narrow corridor into an airy kitchen, dominated by a rustic oak table and a huge Welsh dresser crammed with brightly-coloured pottery.

‘Out here, darling!’ chimed a female voice through the open French windows.

We walked out onto a stone terrace, where a slim woman with dark blonde hair pulled back into a short ponytail was pruning roses in the small but abundantly stocked walled garden.

‘Mum was brought up in the English countryside and tries to recreate it in the centre of London,’ Theo murmured fondly as the woman looked up and acknowledged us both with a
delighted smile.

‘Hello, darling. Hello, Ally.’

As she walked towards me, the same intense gaze of her son fell upon me from her cornflower-blue eyes. I thought she was extraordinarily pretty, with the doll-like features and pale skin of the
typical English rose.

‘I’ve heard so much about you, I feel I know you already,’ she said as she kissed me warmly on both cheeks.

‘Hi, Mum,’ Theo said as he hugged her. ‘You’re looking well.’

‘Am I? I was counting the grey hairs in the mirror only this morning.’ She gave a mock sigh. ‘Sadly, age comes to us all. Now, what can I get you both to drink?’

‘Coffee?’ asked Theo as he looked at me enquiringly.

‘Perfect,’ I agreed. ‘By the way, what’s your mother’s name?’ I whispered to Theo as we followed her back into the house. ‘I don’t think I’m
quite at the stage where I can address her as “Mum”.’

‘God, sorry! Her name is Celia.’ Theo reached for my hand and squeezed it. ‘Okay?’

‘Yes, absolutely.’

Over coffee, Celia asked me about myself and then when I told her about Pa Salt’s death, she comforted me with warmth and sympathy. ‘I don’t think any child recovers fully from
the loss of a parent, especially a daughter who loses her father. I know I was devastated when I lost mine. The most you can hope for is acceptance. And it’s still very early days for you,
Ally. I hope my son isn’t working you too hard,’ she added, eyeing Theo.

‘He really isn’t, Celia. And to be honest, hanging around moping makes everything much worse. I find it’s better to keep busy.’

‘Well, I’ll certainly be very glad when this Fastnet Race is over. And maybe when you have children of your own, you’ll understand that my heart’s in my mouth for the
entirety of every race Theo enters.’

‘Honestly, Mum. I’ve competed in it twice before and I know what I’m doing,’ Theo protested.

‘And he really is a magnificent skipper, Celia. His crew would do anything for him,’ I added.

‘I’m sure, and of course I’m extremely proud of him, but I do sometimes wish he’d chosen to be an accountant or a stockbroker, or at least something that wasn’t
quite so fraught with danger.’

‘Come on, Mum, you’re not normally so anxious. As we’ve discussed over and over again, I could get run over by a bus tomorrow. And besides, it’s you who taught me to sail
in the first place.’ He nudged her affectionately.

‘Forgive me, I’ll shut up. As I said earlier, it must be old age setting in and all the maudlin thoughts that go with it. Talking of which, have you seen or heard from your father
recently?’ Celia asked him and I heard the slight edge to her voice.

Theo paused for a second before replying. ‘Yes. He sent me an email saying he was at his house in the Caribbean.’

‘Alone?’ Celia raised an elegantly arched eyebrow.

‘No idea. And neither do I care,’ said Theo firmly, immediately changing the subject by asking his mother if she was going abroad during August.

I listened quietly as the two of them discussed her imminent plans for a week in the South of France and then a few days in Italy towards the end of the month. It was obvious from the easy way
they spoke together that they completely adored each other.

After an hour or so, Theo drained his second cup of coffee and looked reluctantly at his watch. ‘I’m afraid we have to be off, Mum.’

‘Really? Won’t you stay for a spot of lunch? I can knock together a little salad for us, it’s really no trouble.’

‘I’m afraid not. We’ve got a full crew meeting aboard the
Tigress
at five and it’d be rather poor form if the captain were late. So we’re aiming to catch
the twelve thirty train from Waterloo.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll just nip to the bathroom and I’ll see you both out in the hall.’

‘It’s been so good to meet you, Ally,’ Celia said after Theo left the kitchen. ‘When he told me that you were “the one”, I was understandably nervous.
He’s my only child and is everything to me. But I can see now that you’re perfectly matched.’

‘Thank you for saying that. We’re very happy,’ I said with a smile.

As we rose from the table and made our way to the hall, she reached out her hand and placed it on my arm. ‘Take care of him, won’t you? He’s never seemed to understand
danger.’

‘I’ll do my best, Celia.’

‘I—’

She was about to say more, when Theo reappeared beside us.

‘Bye, Mum. I’ll call you, but don’t worry if you don’t hear from me during race week.’

‘I’ll try not to,’ Celia replied with a catch in her voice. ‘And I’ll be there to cheer you on at the finish line in Plymouth.’

I moved away towards the front door, not wishing to intrude on their goodbye, but I couldn’t help noticing how Celia hugged him as if she couldn’t bear to let him go. Eventually,
Theo gently extricated himself, and she waved us off with a forced smile as we left the house.

On the train journey down to Southampton, Theo seemed distracted and unusually quiet.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked him as he gazed pensively out of the window.

‘I’m just worried about Mum, that’s all. She didn’t seem herself today. She’s never normally so gloomy; usually sends me off with a bright smile and a quick
hug.’

‘She obviously adores you.’

‘And I her. She’s made me everything I am, and has always championed my sailing. Maybe she
is
just getting old,’ he concluded with a shrug. ‘And of course, I
doubt she’ll ever get over my father and their divorce.’

‘Does she still love him, do you think?’

‘Almost certainly, although that doesn’t necessarily mean that she
likes
him. How could she? When she found out about his string of affairs, she was beyond devastated. Poor
Mum was so humiliated that even though it broke her heart, she asked him to leave.’

‘God, how awful.’

‘Yes, it is. Of course, Dad still adores her deep down too. They’re both miserable apart, but I suppose there’s always a thin line between love and hate. Maybe it’s like
living with an alcoholic: at some point, you have to make the decision between losing the person you love and your own sanity. And no one can save us from ourselves, however much they love us, can
they?’

‘No, they can’t.’

Theo grasped my hand suddenly. ‘Never let the same happen to us, will you, Ally?’

‘Never,’ I replied fervently.

The next ten days were – as always before a race – frenetic, tense and exhausting, made more so by the Fastnet’s reputation as one of the toughest and most
technically demanding races in the world. Regulations stated that 50 per cent of the crew must have completed 300 miles of offshore racing together within the past twelve months. On the first
evening, as Theo gathered all twenty crew members together on the
Tigress
, I realised I was far less experienced than most of them. While Theo was well known for nurturing young talent and
had included the crew from the Cyclades regatta, he was obviously taking no chances and had hand-picked the rest from amongst the crème de la crème of the international sailing
fraternity.

The route was exacting and dangerous, taking in the south coast of England before crossing the Celtic Sea to Fastnet Rock on the coast of Ireland and then sailing back to finish in Plymouth.
Strong westerly and south westerly winds, treacherous currents and notoriously unpredictable weather systems had put paid to many a boat’s chances in previous races. And as we were all too
aware, there’d been a number of fatalities over the years. No crew that entered approached the Fastnet lightly, least of all one like ours whose aim was to win.

We rose with the dawn each day and spent hours on the water, repeating the necessary manoeuvres over and over, testing the capabilities of both the crew and the superb state-of-the-art boat to
their limits. During some training sessions, even though I could see that Theo was becoming frustrated when a member was not playing the ‘team game’ as he called it, he never once lost
his cool. Over dinner each evening, strategy and tactics for every part of the race were discussed and refined endlessly, with Theo having the final say.

As well as actual sailing practice, we had several in-depth safety briefings and drills using the sophisticated safety equipment aboard and we were all issued with an EPIRB, a personal
transmitter, to attach to our life vests. Even when we weren’t under sail, the crew worked tirelessly on the boat, meticulously going over every last detail under Theo’s watchful eye,
from checking the kit inventory, to testing the pumps and winches, to rigging and checking the full sail wardrobe. Theo, amongst his many other duties as captain, allocated the bunks and a watch
rotation system.

Thanks to his inspired leadership,
esprit de corps
was riding high by the time we received our final pep talk from him the night before the start of the race on 12th August. And each
and every member of the crew stood up and cheered him.

We were now fully prepared. The only fly in the ointment was the appalling weather forecast for the next few days.

‘I have to go to the Royal Ocean Racing Club now for the skippers’ briefing, sweetheart,’ Theo said to me with a quick peck on the cheek as the rest of the crew began to
disperse. ‘You go back to our hotel and take a long, hot bath. It’s the last one you’re going to get for a while.’

I did so, trying my best to enjoy the luxury of piping-hot water, but when I later looked out of the window, I saw the way the wind had picked up and was roaring in over the harbour, violently
buffeting the two hundred and seventy one boats gathered in it and around the island. My stomach suddenly lurched. It was the last thing we needed and Theo’s face was sombre when he joined me
later in our hotel room.

‘What news?’ I asked him.

‘All bad, I’m afraid. As we already knew, the forecast is dire, and they’re even thinking they might have to put off the start of the race tomorrow. There’s a severe
weather warning out for gale-force winds. To be honest, Ally, it couldn’t be worse.’

He sat down looking totally deflated and I went over to him and massaged his shoulders.

‘Theo, you have to remember that it’s only a race.’

‘I know, but to win this would be the pinnacle of my career so far. I’m thirty-five, Ally, and I can’t keep doing this forever. Damn it!’ he said as he thumped the arm of
the chair with his fist. ‘Why this year?’

‘Well, let’s see what tomorrow brings. Weather forecasts are often wrong.’

‘But the reality isn’t,’ he sighed, indicating the darkening skies outside. ‘Anyway, you’re right, there’s nothing I can do. They’re going to telephone
all the skippers tomorrow morning at eight o’clock to let us know whether they’ll delay the start. So it’s my turn for a hot bath and an early night.’

‘I’ll go and run you one.’

‘Thanks. And Ally?’

‘Yes?’ I turned as I walked towards the bathroom.

Theo smiled at me. ‘I love you.’

As he’d feared, the race was delayed for the first time in its eighty-three-year history. The crew sat glumly together over lunch at the Royal London Yacht Club, each one
of us watching the skies through the window and hoping for a miracle. Another decision would be made first thing in the morning, so after lunch, Theo and I traipsed despondently back to our hotel
on the harbour.

‘It will clear up eventually, Theo, it always does.’

‘Ally, I’ve been on every possible internet site, not to mention contacting the meteorological centre personally, and it looks like there’s a depression that’s set in for
the next few days. Even if we do manage to start the race, it’s going to be unbelievably tough to make it to the finish. Anyway’ – he looked at me and grinned suddenly –
‘at least there’s time for another hot bath.’