Silver Bay (31 page)

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Authors: Jojo Moyes

Tags: #General, #Fiction

BOOK: Silver Bay
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But when I was by myself in that little room, and I lowered my cheek on to the back of his old hand – the one without the cannula fed under the near-transparent skin – it was only Nino Gaines who could feel the wet of my tears.

It rained all afternoon, as I had guessed, and by nightfall it turned into a storm. It was what my father would have called an old-fashioned storm, while my mother would mutter that it was no different from any other storm. I understood what he meant, though – it was no-nonsense, biblical weather with thunderclaps that made your teeth rattle, and sparked lightning strikes out at sea, like a wet-season storm in Darwin. When I got back from the hospital I called up the coastguard, and he said we needn’t worry too much – we’re always wary of the waterspouts, tornadoes over water, that look like God’s finger pointing from the heavens, but behave like the hand of the devil – because the worst of it had already passed. I closed the shutters, built up the log fire and Liza, Hannah and I sat in front of the television, Hannah glued to some programme she liked, Liza and I locked in our own thoughts as the wind rattled around us and the lights flickered, just to remind us that we were still at God’s mercy. At around a quarter past six, I heard noise in the hall, and stepped out to find Yoshi, Lance and Greg shedding their oilskins, bringing with them the cold damp air, their skin shining with rain.

‘You all right if we stop with you for a bit, Kathleen? Thought we’d have a drink before we set off home.’ Lance apologised for the puddle his feet had left on the floor.

‘You’ve been out all this time in this weather? Are you mad?’

‘Someone didn’t check the weather reports,’ said Yoshi, glancing at Lance. ‘We thought we’d go out a bit further, head round the coast towards Kagoorie Island, in case there were any whales round there, and it came on awful sudden.’

‘It’s okay, we didn’t have any passengers,’ said Greg. ‘Waves were a bit sloppy coming back, but. Winds were against us all the way. Anyway, we weren’t out on the water all this time – we’ve been securing all the boats. Gave
Ishmael
an extra knot or two.’

‘You’d better come in and sit down,’ I said. ‘Hannah, move up. I’ll put on some soup.’ I fussed as if they were an inconvenience, but I was pleased to have them there. The hotel had been empty lately and their presence was reassuring.

‘Did you find any?’ Liza put down her newspaper.

‘Not a sign.’ Yoshi fumbled in her pocket and brought out a comb. ‘Something odd’s going on, Liza, I tell you. No dolphins today, either. If they go we’re all in trouble.’

‘Go where?’ Hannah lifted her head.

Liza shot Yoshi a warning look, but it was too late. ‘The dolphins are hiding out somewhere while the weather improves,’ Liza said firmly. ‘They’ll be back soon.’

‘They’re probably sheltering by the rocks,’ said Hannah. ‘I think they hide in that little cove.’

‘More than likely, Squirt,’ said Lance. ‘God, that tastes good,’ he said, as he took his first swig of a beer.

Yoshi leant round the door frame towards the kitchen. ‘Actually, Kathleen, can I have a cup of tea? I need warming up.’

I relaxed a little when I realised the worst of the storm had passed. Since I was a girl I’ve counted the seconds between thunderclaps and flashes of lightning, calculating how many miles away the storm is. It was only now I was sure that the worst was headed back out to sea that I could concentrate on the conversation around me. I still remember the storm of ’48 when two cruising ships were wrecked on our shores, and my father and the other men spent half the night out in the waters picking up survivors. They collected the dead too, but I had not discovered that until years later when my mother confessed the bodies had lain in the museum until the authorities could take them away.

Greg had sat down next to Liza. He muttered something to her, and she nodded vaguely. Then his eyes narrowed. ‘What the hell is he doing here?’ he said sharply.

Mike stood in the doorway, holding a sheaf of papers, a little taken aback to find so many people in the lounge.

‘Paying his way, Greg, just like anyone else.’ I hadn’t told Greg about Mike’s return. I’d figured he’d find out eventually with no input from me, and that it was none of his business.

As I looked now at Liza’s studied indifference, I guessed she had reasoned the same.

Greg made as if to say more, but something in my expression must have stilled him. He gave an audible harrumph and settled into the sofa beside Liza.

Mike walked over to me. ‘The phone lines appear to have gone down,’ he said quietly. ‘I can’t get an Internet connection.’

‘They often do in heavy rain,’ I said. ‘Sit tight, and they’ll be back later. The rain won’t last all night.’

‘What are you doing? Trying to ruin some more businesses?’

‘Leave it, Greg,’ Liza snapped.

‘Why are you defending him? How can you even have him sit here, given what he’s done?’ Greg’s voice had risen to an unattractive whine, and he glared at Mike.

‘I’m not defending him.’

‘You should have slung him out on his ear.’

‘If it was any of your business—’ Liza began.

‘I’m trying to clear up the mess,’ said Mike. ‘Okay? I’m no longer attached to Beaker Holdings. I want to get the development stopped.’

‘Yeah, you say that—’

‘What the hell do you mean?’

Greg looked at me. ‘How do you know he’s not a plant?’

The idea had never occurred to me.

‘His company must know there’s opposition brewing. What’s to stop them sending him here to suss out what’s going on?’

Mike took a step towards him, his voice lowered. ‘Are you calling me a liar?’

I held my breath, feeling the atmosphere start to spin.

Greg’s English accent was mocking: ‘
Are you calling me a liar?

‘I’ve had just about enough of—’

‘Yes, I’m calling you a liar. And howsabout deceiver, cheating, stinking pen-pusher, spiv—’

It was Greg who threw the first punch, his left fist slicing through the air to catch Mike a glancing blow to the side of his head. He stumbled and Greg swung his fist again, but Lance stepped between them, blocking it with an audible grunt. Mike squared up immediately, fists raised. ‘Back off!’ Lance shouted, swinging round and pushing Mike backwards, inadvertently knocking over a side table. ‘For heaven’s sake, back off!’

My heart was thumping so hard I felt almost dizzy. I froze as my room shrank around the men. There seemed to be furniture crashing and people shouting everywhere.

Mike lifted his hand to his face, saw blood on his fingers, and lunged forward. ‘You bastard—’

Yoshi screamed.

‘Stop it! You’re pathetic, the pair of you.’ Liza, on her feet between them, threw up her hands. ‘Get out! You hear me? I won’t have this in my house. I won’t have it.’ She was pushing at Greg, trying to eject him from the living room.

‘What the hell did
I
do?’ he yelled, as she and Lance manoeuvred him towards the kitchen.

‘I don’t have to take this crap from you!’ Mike shouted.

It was only when they were in separate rooms that my breathing slowed.

‘Jesus Christ,’ said Lance, stepping back into the room. ‘Jesus Christ.’ Mike shook off his arm and began mopping at his cheekbone with a handkerchief. As he stooped to right the side table, I could hear the sound of my niece and Greg engaged in a shouting match in the kitchen.

It was then I noticed Hannah. She was huddled in a corner of the settee, clutching Milly. ‘Sweetie,’ I said, trying to make my own voice steady, ‘it’s okay. It’s just the storm making everyone cranky.’

‘They’re not going to fight again, are they?’ Her brown eyes were wide with fear. ‘Please don’t let them fight.’

I glanced up and Mike was staring at her, horrified by the effect on her of what had happened.

‘Hannah, it’s okay,’ he said. ‘Nothing to be frightened of.’

She was staring at him as if she didn’t know him any more.

‘Really,’ he said, kneeling down. ‘I’m sorry. I just lost my temper for a moment, but it was nothing serious.’

She didn’t look convinced, and recoiled from him.

‘It’s fine now. Really,’ he added.

‘I’m not stupid,’ she whispered, her face both furious and fearful.

We all looked at each other.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’ll show you.’ As I held her to me, he stood up and went towards the kitchen. ‘Greg?’ he called, and I felt her flinch in my arms.

‘Greg?’ He disappeared. A second later they both appeared in the doorway. ‘Look,’ he said, holding out a hand – I could tell that that gesture half killed him, ‘we’re mates, really. Like Kathleen said, the storm just made us a little cranky.’

‘Yeah,’ said Greg, as he took the hand and shook it, ‘nothing to be frightened of. Sorry, love.’

She looked at me, then at her mother. Liza’s smile seemed to reassure her.

‘Really. We’ll go now.’ Mike tried to raise a smile. ‘I’m sorry, okay?’

‘Me too,’ said Greg. ‘I’ll be headed off now. And, Liza,’ he said to her meaningfully, ‘you know where I am.’

I could tell she wanted to say something but the telephone started to ring. She strode past him into the hall to answer it.

‘Kathleen. Hannah.’ Greg was deflated now. ‘I’m real sorry. I wouldn’t frighten you for the world, sweetie. You know that . . .’ I squeezed Hannah’s shoulders, but she still didn’t seem to want to respond.

Suddenly Liza was back in the room, her oilskin already half on. The argument was forgotten. ‘That was Tom,’ she said, voice tight. ‘He says there’s ghost nets drifting into the bay.’

Eighteen

 

Mike

 

The room was a blur of activity. I stood in the midst of it, my handkerchief pressed to my bloodied face, wanting to ask what a ghost net was, but it was as if they were marching to a drumbeat I couldn’t hear.

‘I’ll come out with you,’ Kathleen was telling Liza, pulling on her gloves. ‘I’ll steer while you cut.’

Yoshi already had her jacket on. ‘Has someone rung the coastguard?’ she was asking.

Lance had a mobile phone pressed to his ear. ‘Signal’s down.’

‘You stay here, lovey,’ said Liza, to Hannah.

‘No,’ said Hannah, her previous fragility forgotten. ‘I want to help.’

Liza’s face was stern. ‘No. You stay here. It’s not safe.’

‘But I want to help—’

‘Then stay here, and when the lines are back up, field the calls. Ring the National Parks, the whales and dolphins people, anyone you can think of. Get them to send out as many people as they can, okay? The numbers are in the book on the hall table.’ She knelt and looked her daughter straight in the eye. ‘It’s very important that you do that, Hannah. We’re going to need as many people as possible.’

Hannah seemed mollified. ‘Okay.’

Kathleen came back into the room, oilskin on, a large torch under her arm. ‘I’ve put the wet-suits in the back of the car. Spare torch . . . Has everyone got cutters?’

Greg pulled his woollen hat low over his head. ‘I’ve got a spare pair in my lock-up. I’ll run down and get them. Lance, give us a lift down – we’ll be quicker.’

I looked at Liza, feeling as I had when I’d first come here: an outsider, useless. ‘What can I do?’ I said. I wanted to talk to her in private, to apologise for mine and Greg’s stupidity, to find a way to be of some use, but she was already somewhere else.

‘Stay here,’ she said, glancing at Hannah. ‘Best that there’s someone in the house. And don’t let the dog out. How’s the weather looking, Kathleen?’ She tucked her hair into her hat, and peered outside.

‘Been prettier,’ said Kathleen, ‘but there’s not a lot we can do about that. Okay, let’s go. We’ll keep in touch by radio.’

As they trooped out Hannah explained that vast fishing nets, some many miles long, with floats at the top and weights at the bottom, had drifted into the bay. Labelled ‘walls of death’, they had been declared illegal in Australian waters, but as a result many had been dumped overboard or had torn away from their ship and floated along until, weighed down by the bodies of those sea creatures they had caught and killed, they sank to the sea-bed. ‘We learnt about them at school,’ she said, ‘but I never thought they’d come here.’ She bit her lip. ‘I hope our dolphins’ll be okay.’

‘I’m sure your mum and the others will do everything they can to make sure they’re fine,’ I said. ‘Come on – haven’t you got some calls to make?’

The lines were back up, the mobile signals restored. I made myself a cup of tea while I listened to Hannah leaving urgent messages on answerphones and occasionally talking to someone who might have been an authority. She was astonishingly poised, I thought, for an eleven-year-old. Then again, I had never met an eleven-year-old who knew as much about dolphins as she did.

Outside, the thunder and lightning had moved on, but the rain beat down mercilessly, sending rivers down the panes and hammering an insistent tattoo on the flat roof of the porch. I put another couple of logs on the fire, then paced the kitchen, watching the dog’s eyes flicker from me to the door and back again.

‘You get them?’ I said, when Hannah came in.

‘Most of them,’ she said. ‘I think the coastguard must be out already. I wish I was helping.’ She peered out wistfully through the rain-spattered window.

‘You are – someone has to make the calls.’

‘Not proper help. You’re getting a bruise.’ She pointed to the side of my face.

‘Serves me right.’ I grinned.

Hannah reached out for the dog, who lifted her nose. ‘I looked out of the window upstairs and there are loads of boats in the bay with their lights on.’

‘There,’ I said. ‘I told you they’d be okay. Everyone’s out helping.’

But she didn’t seem to hear me.

It was then that I heard a shrill sound from upstairs – my mobile phone. ‘Back in a sec,’ I said, and leapt up the stairs two at a time, wondering fleetingly if it was Liza. She might have tried to call while Hannah was on the telephone.

But when I reached my room and scrabbled in my pocket the little screen told a different story. I gazed at the name, at the flashing backlight, then flipped the button. ‘Hello?’

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