Summer at Little Beach Street Bakery
Page 79
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Then she realised what it was: a great wall of water, a huge wave rising from the deep.
Selina had dropped the oars. The two girls moved together, clutching hands, trying somehow to steady themselves. They braced their feet either side of the bodies at the bottom of the boat, trying their best to hold on to them, keep them safe.
For a second, the wall of water was like a windbreak: it protected them from the storm and the noise, and for an instant everything went eerily quiet. Then, BOOM!
It was like being shot out of a gun. An unimaginable force, huge and all-encompassing, grabbed the little boat and simply threw it towards the shore. All was chaos and Polly found a terrible scream coming out of her mouth. They were at an absurd forty-five-degree angle, falling off a wall of water, like in a cartoon, thought Polly.
Time slowed down. Everything slowed down: the noise and the shouting; the water; the grabbing hands everywhere. Polly lost her grip on Selina. Everything seemed to fade away, leaving her feeling all alone and, oddly, quite calm.
She found herself hoping it would be quick, that her brains would be dashed out and she would know nothing about it. Then, suddenly, she was thinking about Huckle, and how happy they had been. The first time they had made love, in that golden room the colour of honey; lying on the sand drinking champagne at Reuben’s wedding; the time he had handed her his umbrella in the rain and they had run across the dunes; the ridiculous attempt he had made to lift her across the threshold of the lighthouse and all the way up its 178 stairs, which had ended in utter failure and hysterical laughter. She thought of her family, of course, her life. But what she clung on to, what she thought of most vividly, was the straw-haired boy with the slightly wonky nose and the golden chest and the easy laugh and the slow way of talking; and a simple drop of honey, trenchant and sweet, rolled on his strong hand, given to her to lick, from one of his hives, in a garden heavy with buzzing and flowers and the soft warmth of a beautiful early spring morning…
CRASH!
The noise knocked her back to reality, and she found herself thrown up and out of the water, fleeing with it; the sky, suddenly, briefly, parting above her head, one hopeful star emerging, catching her eye, as she wondered at it; then SPLASH, she was in the freezing, roiling water, completely engulfed, and the waves were sucking her out, sucking her out to sea, then CRASH, she was being thrown on to the shore again, tossed like an old shoe on the waves. She felt herself being sucked out again, a deep pull underneath her, and something in her shouted no! and she pushed frantically and scrambled and scrabbled her way back with her feet; felt shingle below them, dug in, threw her hands down on to the small stones, and pushed herself forward again and again. This time she would not let the sea take her; it would not take her, it would not take anyone close to her, not ever again, and now inside her she felt warm for the first time, as if some kind of flame had been lit; a determined flame, pushing her ahead, and on up the rocky outcrop between the harbour wall and the causeway. She scrambled up higher, out of the waves’ reach, then turned round to see what the ocean had wrought.
Thank God, there was Selina, choking, coughing, but already pulling herself up; there was the man, and the small shape of the boy still in the blanket.
And now, above them, were dozens of villagers, hands coming down to help, pulling them up and wrapping them in blankets and giving them hot mugs of tea; and voices chattering and asking were they all right, were they all right; and were they all there?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Polly was hauled up over the wall, her teeth still chattering. All her strength – the strength that had pulled the child into the boat, that had helped her bail, that had dragged her out of the sea’s grasp when they had crashed ashore – all of it had gone, had deserted her completely, and her legs collapsed in a jelly wobble.
To her extraordinary embarrassment, they had to lift her up, as if she was a ten-ton seal that had washed ashore, and sit her down before she collapsed. Even with the wetsuit on, she was shivering from head to toe.
‘You’ll have to get out of that,’ said Muriel, ever practical. Polly nodded. The idea of actually taking off a piece of clothing seemed well beyond her physical capabilities right at this particular moment.
Muriel was the first to say it, but not the last.
‘What on earth… what on EARTH were you thinking? You’re town girls! You’re absolutely crazy, you could have killed yourselves. Easily!’
‘Are they… are they all…’
‘Everyone’s back,’ said someone. ‘It’s all right, my lover. You’ve done great.’
‘But… BUT…’ said Polly. ‘You’re not listening! You’re not listening.’
She knew where she had seen the yellow curly hair of the little boy, had just realised it, and something snatched at her heart in a panic.
‘NO!’ she shouted, through her chattering teeth. ‘You have to listen to me! You have to! There’s… I saw that family. I saw them before. There’s a mother. I saw her this morning!’
This morning seemed unimaginably long ago.
‘There might be another person!’
Suddenly there were a lot of other people there. The RNLI boat had come back in – with, she gathered later, the crew of a Looe fishing trawler that had foolhardily set out to sea – and now Archie and Kendall had materialised in front of her, Archie shaking his head.
‘I can’t believe you went out in the taxi boat,’ he said furiously. ‘You’re not trained! You could have been killed!’
‘I’ll get trained,’ said Polly. ‘But Archie. There were three. There were three. You have to go out again.’
Archie’s face – his rugged, weary face that had spent the entire year anxious, worried about his new command – his face stiffened and he looked at Polly.
‘Are you sure?’
Polly’s mind was foggy, but she was sure of one thing: if the mother hadn’t gone to sea, she’d have been raising merry hell.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she said.
Archie nodded, just once, and turned round.
‘Come on, boys,’ he said to the tired-looking men behind him. ‘We’re back out.’
There was not a murmur of dissent; not a complaint. Kendall, Jayden, Sten and the rest fell into line without delay; obeyed their captain without question; and they were gone, back into the wild night.
Selina had dropped the oars. The two girls moved together, clutching hands, trying somehow to steady themselves. They braced their feet either side of the bodies at the bottom of the boat, trying their best to hold on to them, keep them safe.
For a second, the wall of water was like a windbreak: it protected them from the storm and the noise, and for an instant everything went eerily quiet. Then, BOOM!
It was like being shot out of a gun. An unimaginable force, huge and all-encompassing, grabbed the little boat and simply threw it towards the shore. All was chaos and Polly found a terrible scream coming out of her mouth. They were at an absurd forty-five-degree angle, falling off a wall of water, like in a cartoon, thought Polly.
Time slowed down. Everything slowed down: the noise and the shouting; the water; the grabbing hands everywhere. Polly lost her grip on Selina. Everything seemed to fade away, leaving her feeling all alone and, oddly, quite calm.
She found herself hoping it would be quick, that her brains would be dashed out and she would know nothing about it. Then, suddenly, she was thinking about Huckle, and how happy they had been. The first time they had made love, in that golden room the colour of honey; lying on the sand drinking champagne at Reuben’s wedding; the time he had handed her his umbrella in the rain and they had run across the dunes; the ridiculous attempt he had made to lift her across the threshold of the lighthouse and all the way up its 178 stairs, which had ended in utter failure and hysterical laughter. She thought of her family, of course, her life. But what she clung on to, what she thought of most vividly, was the straw-haired boy with the slightly wonky nose and the golden chest and the easy laugh and the slow way of talking; and a simple drop of honey, trenchant and sweet, rolled on his strong hand, given to her to lick, from one of his hives, in a garden heavy with buzzing and flowers and the soft warmth of a beautiful early spring morning…
CRASH!
The noise knocked her back to reality, and she found herself thrown up and out of the water, fleeing with it; the sky, suddenly, briefly, parting above her head, one hopeful star emerging, catching her eye, as she wondered at it; then SPLASH, she was in the freezing, roiling water, completely engulfed, and the waves were sucking her out, sucking her out to sea, then CRASH, she was being thrown on to the shore again, tossed like an old shoe on the waves. She felt herself being sucked out again, a deep pull underneath her, and something in her shouted no! and she pushed frantically and scrambled and scrabbled her way back with her feet; felt shingle below them, dug in, threw her hands down on to the small stones, and pushed herself forward again and again. This time she would not let the sea take her; it would not take her, it would not take anyone close to her, not ever again, and now inside her she felt warm for the first time, as if some kind of flame had been lit; a determined flame, pushing her ahead, and on up the rocky outcrop between the harbour wall and the causeway. She scrambled up higher, out of the waves’ reach, then turned round to see what the ocean had wrought.
Thank God, there was Selina, choking, coughing, but already pulling herself up; there was the man, and the small shape of the boy still in the blanket.
And now, above them, were dozens of villagers, hands coming down to help, pulling them up and wrapping them in blankets and giving them hot mugs of tea; and voices chattering and asking were they all right, were they all right; and were they all there?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Polly was hauled up over the wall, her teeth still chattering. All her strength – the strength that had pulled the child into the boat, that had helped her bail, that had dragged her out of the sea’s grasp when they had crashed ashore – all of it had gone, had deserted her completely, and her legs collapsed in a jelly wobble.
To her extraordinary embarrassment, they had to lift her up, as if she was a ten-ton seal that had washed ashore, and sit her down before she collapsed. Even with the wetsuit on, she was shivering from head to toe.
‘You’ll have to get out of that,’ said Muriel, ever practical. Polly nodded. The idea of actually taking off a piece of clothing seemed well beyond her physical capabilities right at this particular moment.
Muriel was the first to say it, but not the last.
‘What on earth… what on EARTH were you thinking? You’re town girls! You’re absolutely crazy, you could have killed yourselves. Easily!’
‘Are they… are they all…’
‘Everyone’s back,’ said someone. ‘It’s all right, my lover. You’ve done great.’
‘But… BUT…’ said Polly. ‘You’re not listening! You’re not listening.’
She knew where she had seen the yellow curly hair of the little boy, had just realised it, and something snatched at her heart in a panic.
‘NO!’ she shouted, through her chattering teeth. ‘You have to listen to me! You have to! There’s… I saw that family. I saw them before. There’s a mother. I saw her this morning!’
This morning seemed unimaginably long ago.
‘There might be another person!’
Suddenly there were a lot of other people there. The RNLI boat had come back in – with, she gathered later, the crew of a Looe fishing trawler that had foolhardily set out to sea – and now Archie and Kendall had materialised in front of her, Archie shaking his head.
‘I can’t believe you went out in the taxi boat,’ he said furiously. ‘You’re not trained! You could have been killed!’
‘I’ll get trained,’ said Polly. ‘But Archie. There were three. There were three. You have to go out again.’
Archie’s face – his rugged, weary face that had spent the entire year anxious, worried about his new command – his face stiffened and he looked at Polly.
‘Are you sure?’
Polly’s mind was foggy, but she was sure of one thing: if the mother hadn’t gone to sea, she’d have been raising merry hell.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she said.
Archie nodded, just once, and turned round.
‘Come on, boys,’ he said to the tired-looking men behind him. ‘We’re back out.’
There was not a murmur of dissent; not a complaint. Kendall, Jayden, Sten and the rest fell into line without delay; obeyed their captain without question; and they were gone, back into the wild night.
