Page 126 of The Winter of Second Chances
‘I need to stay here,’ said Annie.
‘The outcome won’t change whether you’re out here catching pneumonia or inside warming through,’ said the female paramedic with gentle but firm frankness.
‘You’re right,’ said Annie, gathering herself mentally. ‘Maeve, help me open the shutters. If we keep the lights low, we can watch from inside. I’ll get scissors.’
Annie opened the cafe door and hurried off to find scissors. Gemma scooped up John and Alfred’s belongings and they headed into the cafe; Sally and the paramedics filed in after them.
Gemma sat herself down at the long window bench and Sally pulled up beside her, taking Gemma’s hand in both of hers and rubbing it. The paramedics – Georgina and Mark, as they introduced themselves – made small talk as they made tea and kept up a positive but idle commentary on the cafe and location. Annie guessed they must be expert at filling empty air with friendly noise to soothe people and she was grateful for their presence. Maeve stood waiting at the door.
‘Here.’ Annie slapped a large pair of scissors into Maeve’s outstretched palm. ‘I had to secure the locks with cable ties. You’ll have to snip them. I’ve got more ties in my pocket if you think the cabin hooks will need extra securing.’
‘Got it,’ said Maeve. And the two women went back out into the storm and began to undo all the work Annie had done earlier. The lifeboat had broadened its search. Annie got outside in time to see it heading around the other side of the peninsula. Without its powerful beams to cut holes in the darkness the night swallowed the cliff, and the meagre light from the car headlamps only dimly lit the beach and the ever-encroaching tide.
The wind was so strong that Annie and Maeve had to work together on each window, taking a shutter each and securing it back with the cabin hooks and cable ties to be safe. As they opened the last set – Alfred’s window – they were greeted by the forlorn faces of Gemma and Sally staring past them.
‘Better turn the headlamps off,’ said Maeve grimly. ‘They’ll be draining the batteries.’
Maeve went to her car and Annie to John’s. As she pulled open the door the smell of John’s aftershave washed over her and for a second she was winded by her fear for him but she swallowed it down and leaned in to switch the headlamps off, thrusting the beach into a darkness that felt oppressive and hopeless. Above their heads a scant moon was trying to light the sky but failing dismally beneath layers of thick cloud.
‘Hot sweet tea,’ Sally announced as Annie and Maeve blustered back into the cafe. Several large cups of strong, dark tea were laid out on the middle table.
‘Thanks,’ said Annie.
Maeve picked up two cups and went over to sit beside Gemma. She pushed one of the cups towards her friend.
‘Come on, old girl,’ she said affectionately. ‘Drink up.’
Gemma looked at Maeve, her eyes brimming with tears.
‘It’s just so awful, Maeve,’ she said quietly. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘I know,’ said Maeve, patting her friend’s hand. ‘I know.’
‘There’s still hope,’ said Annie, taking a seat next to Sally. ‘People can bob around for ages waiting to be rescued. They might have got pulled further around the bay, past the crag.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Sally. Though Annie felt she was humouring her more than speaking with conviction.
‘John’s a strong swimmer,’ said Maeve.
‘And Alfred’s a stubborn old bugger!’ said Annie. ‘With that power combination they’re bound to be okay.’
Annie had forgotten how wet she was until she saw Maeve shivering uncontrollably. She looked down at her hands and saw that she too was shaking as she tried to pick up her cup.
‘I think it would be a good idea for you all to get out of those wet clothes if possible,’ said Georgina. ‘Have you got any spare jumpers? Or extra blankets, Annie?’
Annie nodded.
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I’ll get some.’
‘I can go if you like,’ said Georgina.
‘No, it’s fine. Thank you. I’d rather be busy.’
Annie pulled off her water-filled wellingtons and her sopping socks, her feet blue with cold and her toes wrinkled, and headed barefoot up to the flat.
In the quiet of the flat, she took a few moments to compose herself before she pulled open the door to the airing cupboard and began to fill her arms with quilts and heavy blankets. She pulled off her wet clothes, threw them into the corner and re-dressed in a baggy jumper, jeans and warm knitted socks. In her chest of drawers she found a couple of jumpers that would probably fit Gemma and Sally, and hanging in her wardrobe was an old cable-knit cardigan that had belonged to her mother, which she pulled out for Maeve.
Before leaving the flat Annie scanned the dark horizon through the sitting room window, but the view was the same as she had left it. She left the light on, just in case John and Alfred had lost their bearings and needed a beacon to draw them home.
