Page 88 of The Secret Beach

‘I’m not going.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We have to talk about this.’

‘You can’t not go!’

‘There’ll be others on call.’

‘You’ve got to go.’ The thought that he might ignore the pager filled her with horror. It would be sacrilege. It would undermine everything. She grabbed his arms, shaking him as if to wake him up. ‘You’ve got to!’

In answer, he pulled her to him so tightly she could hardly breathe, holding on to her for two, three, four seconds, his face buried in her neck.

‘I love you,’ he said, his voice muffled. ‘I love you. You must never forget that.’

Before she could answer, he let her go and raced back towards the steps without a backwards glance.

She stared after him, her heart in free fall as she watched him taking the steps two at a time. She wanted to shout up to him to stop. She had to tell him she loved him too. But there was no time. Duty overrode passion. Duty overrode everything. That was the rule.

She turned away, but the sea provided no comfort. If anything, it was taunting her. She looked out at the swell, a massive wall rising and falling almost in slow motion. How high was it? Thirty feet? She shivered. How had that happened, in the few minutes they’d been together? What was the sea plotting behind their backs?

She put her hands to her lips, as if she could lift his last kiss off them and put it in her pocket. Then she pulled her coat more tightly around her, put her head down against the wind and headed back up the steps.

She crawled into bed when she got home. Sleep usually brought much needed respite from the whirling in her brain, but not today, for the ungodly noise outside interrupted her slumber: the rattling windows, the squeals as the wind got in through the cracks, the barrage of rain like tiny bullets on the roof. Amidst the pandemonium, she heard the rest of her family come back as the afternoon dragged into evening. Except her dad. Usually by now she’d be able to hear his voice through the floorboards. Had he been on call today too? Were he and Rik both out on the lifeboat? The thought unsettled her. She tried to go back to sleep, but she was too anxious, listening for the bang of the front door and the reassuring sound of male voices.

And then, the doorbell went. A long, persistent ring that made her leap from her bed and run downstairs. Somehow, she knew whoever was at the door was the bearer of bad news. She arrived at the top of the stairs just as her mum answered. It was Archie Fowler, head mechanic at the lifeboat station.

‘Coastguard’s lost contact with the lifeboat,’ he said, terse with tension. The look on his face told them all they needed to know.

Her mum grabbed her coat from the hook. Nikki ran down the rest of the stairs. This meant her dad must have gone out in it too. He’d have gone from work.

‘Is it Dad?’ Graham appeared in the kitchen doorway.

‘There’s five of them gone out, in the all-weather boat.’

And then there was Jess, in a flowered dress, holding her bump. She had barely a month to go.

‘Did Rik go?’ she asked.

Time stood still for Nikki. She couldn’t say anything. Of course she couldn’t.

‘Yep.’ Archie gave a brief nod. ‘Helicopter’s on its way out there. There’s fifty-foot waves.’

He didn’t need to say any more. Nikki stood on the staircase and watched as they all pulled on their coats and Archie stood waiting for them, head bowed, hands in his pockets, waiting to escort them back to the harbour where they would wait for news, hoping, praying.

Her mum looked up at her. Her expression was bleak, as if she feared the worst had already happened. ‘You’re coming, aren’t you?’

Nikki jolted herself out of her catatonic state. Her dad was out there. And Rik. The two most important people to her in the world. Nikki adored her dad. They worked together nearly every day, and she had learned so much from his calm, quiet demeanour, his way of getting the best out of people. Which was why he would be such a great member of the lifeboat crew. He’d be out there now, taking orders, keeping his head, galvanising the team, a reassuring presence.

How would Rik be? She couldn’t be so sure. Doubt niggled at her. He’d be lithe, quick, practical, surefooted – but was he a team player? He had almost refused to go earlier. Who would he put first? Of course, she was questioning him because she knew his morals were questionable, because of what they were doing.

They were not good people.

She felt a sense of impending doom as she ran down the stairs and pulled on her waterproof coat. Her mum looked pale, her eyes strained, her mouth in a knot of worry as she put her arm around Graham, ever the protective mother, then grabbed Jess’s hand. Nikki followed behind the three of them, led by Archie, a funny little parade of humans with their heads down in the driving rain. There was no question that any of them would stay at home to wait for news.

Conditions at the harbour were terrifying. They had to stand well back, for the sea was still determined to hurl itself onto the quay. The few remaining boats anchored in the harbour were being tossed around like toys, their masts flailing, backed by a thick mist the colour of week-old skimmed milk. It was impossible to see; it was impossible to hear. It was impossible to imagine anything but the worst.

The Norths joined the clusters already waiting for news. They gathered in front of the Neptune, and Keiran sent out a steady stream of trays with mugs of coffee, even though most people were too distracted to drink it. Nevertheless, it was a kind gesture, indicative of the way Speedwell looked after its own without question.

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