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- Herausgeber: Allison & Busby
- Kategorie: Krimi
- Serie: Shetland Mysteries
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
Readying her Norwegian sail-training ship, Sorlandet, for a fresh voyage through the Shetland Islands, Cass Lynch has the shock of her life when the new third officer is a ghost from her past - the man she thought she'd left to drown in the Atlantic eleven years before. Cass has an odd feeling about some of the new trainees: a slick city-boy, and a brother and sister. As her distrust of the newcomers deepens, two people go missing and a third is found dead. Struggling to confront the ghosts of her past, the deceased of her present, and the man of her future, Cass must out-manoeuvre the killer before she too becomes one of the victims.
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3
DEATH ON A SHETLAND ISLE
Marsali Taylor
5
To the members of the Shetland Coastguard, and to the crews of the Aith and Lerwick lifeboats: dedicated volunteers who spend a good deal of their own time practising their skills on land and sea so that those of us who walk the hills or mess about in boats can be saved if the worst happens. We hope never to need you, but it’s hugely reassuring to know you’re there.6
Contents
THE CREW OF SØRLANDET
Each watch has a watch leader and two able seamen (ABs)
For Cass’s watch, these are: Petter, Watch Leader
Mona and Johan, ABs
Each watch has between fifteen and twenty-five trainees.
In Cass’s watch these are:
The Swedish couple, Valter Bengtsson and Axel Lindberg
The firefighter, Frederik Berg
The Danish couple, Carl and Signe Frandsen 8
The Norwegian family, Egil, Berit, Erling (17), Geir (15), and Kirsten (12) Hansen
The ship’s sirens, Janne Jensen and Grethe Kristiansen
The older sailors, Finn Nilsen and Ivar Olsen
The teacher, Unni Pedersen
The golden boy, Oliver Eastley, and his sister, Laura
and joining in Shetland
The policeman, DI Gavin Macrae
Other officers:
Sadie, Medical Officer
Rolf Mathisen, Bosun
Jenn, Liaison Officer
Lars, 2nd Engineer
James, Steward
Elmer, Cook
Laila and Ruth, Galley Girls
PART ONE
10The Board Set Up
CHAPTER ONE
Wednesday 28th July, Kristiansand
Low water 05.12, BST + 1 (0.02m)
High water 11.31 (0.26m)
Low water 17.58 (0.01m)
High water 00.19 (0.026m)
Moonrise 00.51; sunrise 05.14; moonset 16.38; sunset 22.08
Crescent moon
Cat’s pre-leaving vet visit went as I expected. He lashed his tail from the moment of setting paw in the surgery, crouched sulkily on the table with me holding his harness in a vice-like grip, and greeted the thermometer with an indignant hiss. After it, I took him to our favourite cafe, where we shared the swirled cream on a cup of drinking chocolate, and he smoothed his rumpled fur, tail still twitching from time to time. Then we strolled down to the grass by the marina, where I could let him 12off his lead to scamper around the Shetland pony statues.
It was a bonny morning, with fluffy cumulus on the horizon promising a sea breeze to set us on our way later. The promenade was quiet, with only a couple of tourists strolling along the marina path: a fair woman in one of those puffed jackets, powder blue, her hand through the arm of the man beside her. Her head blocked my view of his face, but there was something urgent about the tension of her shoulders, the way her face turned to his.
As I watched, she shook her head violently and shoved him away from her onto the path leading to the old fish market, then headed for the street at an easy jog. I watched her go, intrigued. Maybe they hadn’t been tourists; maybe she was making sure he went for a job interview, or a dentist appointment. Maybe she was his mistress, and he was off to confront his wife … I shut off the speculation, and clipped on Cat’s lead to saunter back to our ship.
Kristiansand was Sørlandet’s home port. She had her own berth before the ochre-coloured Customs House, where her three masts reached up into the summer sky, and her bowsprit with the gold scrolling stretched towards the elegant tenements of downtown Kristiansand. The sight of her filled my heart with pride. I still couldn’t believe my luck: Cass Lynch, teenage runaway, sailing vagabond, with two stripes on the shoulder of her navy jersey, second mate of the world’s oldest square-rigged ship.
I paused at the foot of the gangplank to unclip Cat, and ran straight into Captain Sigurd. There was always something to take the gilt off the gingerbread. Captain Sigurd was an excellent seaman, and I’d trust him with my life in maritime matters, but he was a stickler of the deepest dye. Officers wore their caps at all times outside and carried them under their arm to the captain’s 13dining room, where we ate in a glory of red velvet and portraits of King Olav and Queen Sonja.
In the stress of taking Cat to the vet I’d forgotten my cap. I straightened up quickly and stood to attention, my hand going smartly up to my eyebrow as he passed me. He took two steps on shore, then paused to look round. ‘Your cap, Ms Lynch?’
Nothing to be done. ‘Sorry, sir.’
‘Remember that everything you do reflects on your ship.’ His blue eyes met mine, totally serious, then moved along Sørlandet’s swan-white hull. ‘You are letting her down.’
I kept my hand up. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Don’t forget again.’ He turned away and strode off. I let the salute drop and followed Cat aboard.
There was a little knot of my fellow-crew gathered at the far side of the deck: my friend Agnetha, recently promoted to first officer, Sadie, the medical officer, and Mona, one of my ABs. I went over to join them.
‘Tut, tut,’ Agnetha said. ‘Consider yourself rebuked, Ms Lynch.’
‘He didn’t have to worry about whether Cat was going to bite the vet again,’ I retorted.
‘Did he?’
‘A close-run thing, when the thermometer went in.’
Agnetha wrinkled her nose. ‘Well, never mind our esteemed captain. We’re drawing lots here.’
‘What for?’
She rolled her blue eyes, laughing, and linked her arm through mine. ‘You don’t get to join in. You’re spoken for.’ Her friendly tone warmed me. There had been a distance between us since the events of our voyage to Belfast, and I still hadn’t dared ask what she’d finally decided about her pregnancy, whether to keep the baby or not. I had the Catholic stance on abortion, and though I 14hadn’t preached it, just knowing how I felt had made her defensive. I smiled back at her, and repeated my question. ‘What are we drawing lots for?’
‘The new third mate.’
My brain caught up at last. He was to arrive this morning. ‘Rafael Martin. Spanish.’
‘Too young for me,’ Sadie sighed. ‘Early thirties.’ She brightened. ‘He might like older women.’
‘Or be turned on by the uniform of a superior officer,’ Agnetha agreed.
‘More likely he’ll slum it with the galley girls,’ Mona said resignedly.
‘Tall, dark, cheekbones to die for.’ Agnetha’s chin tilted backwards over her shoulder. ‘Take a look.’
I wasn’t turning to stare. ‘I can wait.’
‘What it is to have a man of your own!’ Agnetha mocked. ‘Doesn’t stop you window-shopping.’
‘More to the point, does he look as if he knows what he’s doing?’ I grinned. ‘Or didn’t you even consider his seamanship qualities?’
Agnetha wrinkled her nose at me. ‘You can stop being so lofty. He’s going over to talk to Cat.’
‘A point in his favour,’ I conceded.
Cat had headed straight for his favourite post on the afterdeck, the raised area at the back end of the ship where the officers gathered once trainees were aboard. There was a bench by the navigation hut where he sat and surveyed the harbour, washed his white paws, and looked down on cats from lesser ships.
I turned. Rafael Martin was tall and slim, with a mop of unruly curls. He was bending down to extend a hand, which Cat sniffed warily. Then he straightened, and turned, and the familiarity of the movement made me catch my breath. His face was towards us 15now. My heart gave a great kick and began hammering so crazily that I wondered Agnetha couldn’t hear it.
I was looking at a dead man – the man I’d killed eleven years ago halfway across the Atlantic.
My first thought was a sudden rush of love. The guilt had swamped out how much I’d loved him. I looked at him and felt it flood back. I’d never thought I’d see that face again this side of heaven: those upward-tilted eyebrows above slanted sea-grey eyes, the high cheekbones, the long nose, the mobile mouth that could go from laughter to curses and back in the blink of an eye; the stubborn chin, half hidden now under a stubble beard.
He was beginning to smile at us, the charming smile he used on strange women. The breath caught in my throat. ‘See?’ Agnetha murmured in my ear.
‘A charmer,’ I muttered. Your voice gives you away, my policeman lover, Gavin, told me. I took a deep breath and tried to persuade myself I was wrong. Some extraordinary resemblance. It had to be. At the same time my brain was reckoning up impossible scenarios. I’d thrown out the lifebelt as soon as he’d gone over. Suppose he’d grabbed it, been swept away by the waves … suppose another boat had come along, and picked him up … suppose … suppose …
He came down the steps with that same easy stride. He was right beside me. I tried to steady my breathing. His eyes met mine as if we were strangers. ‘You’re Cass, right?’
It was Alain’s voice, velvety-brown, like pouring Guinness, but now he spoke English with an odd Spanish-American accent. He held out his hand, and I shook it, the world whirling around me. Our hands fitted together as they always had. ‘Glad to know you. That’s a fine cat – a pedigree one?’
‘A mog,’ I said. My voice was astonishingly steady. ‘He likes being the highest-ranking cat in the harbour.’16
‘Land cats always pretend they live in the grandest house in the street,’ he agreed. His eyes just touched the bullet scar running across my right cheek, and moved back to mine. ‘You’re all making me feel very welcome aboard.’
‘We’re glad to get a full crew again,’ I managed. I leant back against the rail, putting a metre between us. It was Alain, back from the dead, looking at me as if he’d never known me, as if we’d never lived aboard Marielle, never loved and fought and made up, never dreamt of sailing the world together. It wasn’t possible he didn’t know me. Why he was pretending to be Spanish I didn’t yet know, but presumably he’d explain … unless he’d decided that explanations would only lead to recriminations, and the past was best forgotten. Rafael Martin. I had to remember to call him Rafael.
He leant beside me, and smiled round at the others. ‘Now, warn me about the captain. What’re his particular bugbears?’
‘I’d better go and get my cap,’ I said, and shoved myself from the rail so hard that I almost stumbled. Damn. I wanted to be as cool as he was. I strode away to the door below the aft deck and felt him watch me go. By the time I’d swung past the curtain that covered my cabin entrance I was sweating as if I’d run a marathon. I dropped onto the couch in front of my berth and pressed my hands to my breast. My fingers felt my heart thudding. I took a long, deep breath, counting four in, four hold, four out, and repeated the exercise until my heart rate had steadied.
It was Alain. I wasn’t being misled by a resemblance. It truly was Alain. I hadn’t killed him. The relief of it flooded through me. I hadn’t left him to drown in the middle of the Atlantic. By some miracle he’d been saved. He’d caught that lifebuoy and floated with it, been found by another ship, taken to America.17
I caught myself up there. It just wasn’t possible. It was eleven years ago, but I could see it unrolling in my memory as if it had been yesterday. The boom had gone over just as Alain had come up with our breakfast, a plate in each hand. I could still hear the crack as it hit him, and the way he’d reacted – making light of it, but with a blank look in his eyes, and swallowing as if he tasted blood. He’d insisted he was fine, and gone below for a sleep. When he came back up, his gun was in his hand, and he ordered me off the boat. He’d thought I was pirates. ‘Get off my boat, or I’ll shoot you. Get off. Get off.’ When I hadn’t obeyed, he’d fired at me. My hand went up to cover the snail-trail of scar along my cheek. I’d kicked the tiller across and tacked the boat, and the jib had caught him off balance and knocked him overboard. Even if he’d grabbed the lifebuoy I’d thrown, even if he’d drifted many metres on the rolling swell before I’d got the boat turned, he’d still been injured. A dip in the Atlantic wasn’t an NHS-recommended cure for a severe head injury.
I was being misled by a resemblance. No matter how this Rafael moved, no matter how his hand fitted mine, Alain had died in the Atlantic. His death would always be on my conscience. As for this Spanish lookalike, I’d just have to learn to live with him. Rafael.
I picked up my cap, squared my shoulders, and headed back on deck.
Captain Sigurd was also a stickler about crew muster. At precisely two minutes to eleven, we stood to attention in line of seniority, Agnetha at the head of the line. Nils radiated importance beside her, promoted to first mate at last. I was next, and Rafael stood beside me, back straight, head up, with just one quick gleam of his eyes downwards at me to show he was playing at being the compleat officer. I felt his presence beside me, and knew he 18was Alain. However much I tried to rationalise it as a chance resemblance, however crazy it should seem that he was pretending not to know me, he was Alain. Every movement of his body, every turn of his head, the shape of his hands so close to mine … I stood beside him and argued with myself. He was Rafael, a stranger. He was Alain, being Rafael.
Captain Sigurd cast an eye along our straight line and stepped forward to address us in Norwegian. ‘God morgen.’
‘Good morning, sir,’ we chorused.
‘Our orders for today. The trainees will be arriving from noon. For this voyage, Mr Andersen will be on red watch, Ms Lynch on white and Mr Martin on blue.’
White watch was my favourite, on duty from four to eight. Rafael would be after me. We’d meet at handover and meals, and otherwise we could avoid each other, if that was the way he wanted it. I felt a smouldering anger stirring deep within me. I’d spent eleven years believing I’d killed him.
‘There will be fifty-one trainees on board, seventeen on each watch, with one more joining the white watch in Shetland.’
That one, all being quiet in the Scottish criminal world, would be Gavin. My anger subsided at the thought of him. Alain was in the past. Gavin was my present and my future. I couldn’t wait to see him again. It felt a long month since we’d been together, even though we’d spoken on the phone or computer whenever the ship had a signal. We’d have the voyage round Shetland, all the way back to Kristiansand, and end with a couple of days together in Bergen before his leave ran out.
‘The whole-crew muster will be at 14.00. Each watch will be taken round each part of the ship: forrard, rig training and aft. Are there any questions about this?’
We shook our heads. It was all routine.19
‘These sessions will end at 15.30. Then we will prepare to set sail, leaving at 17.00.’ His blue eyes swept around us. ‘I wish our ship a good voyage, fair winds and free sails.’
He nodded dismissal. As we moved away, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Rafael bent his head to mine and spoke softly in my ear. ‘I wasn’t expecting Norwegian. I’m third watch, right? Eight to twelve?’
‘Yes.’ I turned to face him, and saw only the intent look of a crewman checking his instructions. I made my tone matter-of-fact. ‘When the trainees come on board, Jenn checks them in.’ I gestured at where Jenn, our liaison officer, was setting up her table. ‘She’ll send them below to the banjer, where we’ll help them sort out their lockers and find the hooks for their hammocks.’ He nodded. ‘Then we’ll gather them on deck at 14.00, and each watch will get their introduction to the ship. They get a tour of the foredeck area, afterdeck area, and rig training – just up the mainmast to the first platform and down the other side. Your watch leader and ABs will lead that.’
‘OK. Routine.’ He stopped being official and gave me that charming smile again. ‘Thanks, Cass. I’ll appoint you as my personal translator.’
I waved my hand airily and turned away, speaking over my shoulder without meeting his eyes. ‘Any time, no problem.’
My fingers were trembling as I strode away.
I went as far as the Customs House, and fished my phone out of my pocket. It was Gavin’s tea break in Scotland, supposing he was able to get one. Police work, as far as I could see, was either non-stop with time only to send a uniform for a sandwich, or long night hours of filling in forms in front of the History channel.
He answered on the third ring. ‘Cass, halo. Ciamar a tha thu?’20
My Gaelic could cope with that. I answered in Norwegian ‘Bra. Og med deg?’
‘Hmm,’ Gavin replied. ‘You sound more like ikke sa verst.’
Not so bad. ‘Mmm,’ I said, and realised at once that I was at a loss. I was Gavin’s girl now. How could I raise Alain’s ghost? ‘It’s just something odd … I’ll tell you when we meet.’
‘Saturday’s still looking good. I have to appear in court tomorrow, but that should be it.’
‘The people-trafficking case?’
His phone crackled as he nodded. ‘It’s just the first hearing. The trial won’t be until autumn, but I hope this middleman and his underlings will go down for as long as the judge can give him. The top man is free and rich in the Med.’ He sighed. ‘I suppose it makes a change from Spain. The French police know who he is, and can’t find a scrap of evidence to nail him on. Three months, six at best, and he’ll have built up a new chain.’
‘Mmm.’ He sounded down, and cynical. I tried to think of something encouraging to say. ‘They got Al Capone on tax-dodging in the end.’
That made him laugh. ‘Well, if you can come up with some odd Med regulation pertaining to super-yachts in Cannes, just let me know.’
‘I will. The day after tomorrow, then, Lerwick, DV.’
‘Weather permitting. I know. How did Cat get on at the vet?’
‘Nobody got bitten this time.’
‘Because he was happier, or the vet was quicker?’
‘The vet was better prepared. He remembered last time.’
‘But does it let him go ashore?’
I sighed. ‘You tell me. I’ve read the regulations till I’m square-eyed. He’s got his passport, he’s had his injections, he’s been checked within twenty-four hours of leaving. All that 21should let him in. But Sørlandet’s not a ferry, and Lerwick’s not a recognised port of entry, which I think may mean he has to stay on board throughout our visit. It doesn’t exactly say so. They won’t impound him or anything, just stick him in quarantine till we leave again.’
‘Does Lerwick have somewhere to quarantine him?’
‘Of course not. Besides, it’s all very well to say he has to stay on board. They can come and explain that to him. He’s been a ship’s cat since he was six weeks old. He’s used to coming and going as he pleases when we’re in port.’
Like travelling cats on every boat, he also had an uncanny sense of what the ship was up to. He occasionally spent the night ashore, but he’d always return in time to slip into his place on the aft deck for the morning all-hands muster.
‘I’m sure there’ll be no problem with sticking him in your dad’s car for us going to dinner there.’
‘I’m sure there won’t.’ Cat knew he could rely on Maman for a plateful of interesting scraps.
‘Have you asked your captain about Glyndebourne?’
Maman was singing there in three weeks’ time. ‘Luckily he considers opera one of the civilised arts. Once he’s met Maman, I hope he’ll let me come. I’ve told her to be on the pier in Lerwick as we come in, so I can introduce them.’
‘Machiavellian.’
His soft Highland voice sent a wave of longing through me. ‘Oh, I’m looking forward to seeing you. Two days.’
‘Is your stickler captain going to condemn me to a hammock?’
‘He hasn’t said anything. You’re not a crew member.’
I could hear he was smiling. ‘Perhaps he hasn’t considered anything as appalling as sleeping with the trainees.’
‘Oh, there are strict rules about that. I just don’t know if they 22apply to current partners. Anyway, I hope we’ll get a night aboard Khalida, in peace.’
‘I hope so too. What other news? Has your underling arrived?’
He meant Rafael. ‘Yes.’
‘Ah. That’s your problem?’
‘I’ll explain when I see you.’
Alain would have teased it out of me, between urging and guesses, but Gavin understood privacy. ‘What watch are you on?’
‘White. Four till eight.’
‘A better one for phoning.’
‘Except that I won’t have a signal until we get within sight of Shetland.’ I knew that we were rambling now. ‘Good luck with your court thing.’
‘Thank you.’ I heard a voice in the background, calling his name. ‘Have to go. Day after tomorrow. Beannachd leat.’
‘Bye,’ I said softly, and held the phone at my ear a moment longer, hearing the silence; then I snicked it off. It was ridiculous to have this hollow feeling about being on my own till Shetland. I squared my shoulders and turned back towards my ship.
CHAPTER TWO
I’d just reached the gangplank when I spotted two unmistakeable trainees heading for the ship, each trundling a large bag. It was the couple I’d noticed earlier at the marina. So much for my imagination; the determined mistress I’d created had obviously been some item of last-minute shopping, like sun-tan lotion or sea-sickness pills. I put new words to the woman’s hand gestures: ‘No, no, you go on. I’ll nip back and get it and catch you up …’
I stepped forward. ‘Hi, can I help you?’
‘We’ve come to sign on. Oliver and Laura Eastley.’
Practice was making me smoother at this. I held out my hand. ‘Cass Lynch, second mate. Welcome aboard Sørlandet. Have you just arrived in Kristiansand?’
‘Last night,’ Oliver said. He flashed me a dazzling smile, the sort of easy charm that made me feel he was one to watch: a golden son of affluent parents who’d had life given to him on a 24plate, and expected it to continue that way. He was fairer than I’d expected from that glimpse at the marina, with the sun gilding his hair, and taller; his wife’s head barely reached his cheekbones. ‘Laura wanted a last night in a bed and a wash in hot water before coming on board.’
‘We wanted a look at Kristiansand too,’ Laura added. ‘We had a wander round the fort yesterday evening, and watched the sun set into the sea.’
Their voices placed them: unmistakeably private-school Edinburgh, although their fair hair and sleek, broad brows looked English. They were both about my age, glossy and groomed like city people, but dressed for the country; he was wearing a shaped Barbour, she had the powder-blue padded jacket I’d noticed earlier, and they both had jeans and practical footgear. Corporate: lawyers, estate agents, accountants.
I gestured them up the gangplank. ‘Come aboard.’ I gave a quick look around, but there was no sign of Jenn. ‘Just wait by the table here. I won’t be a moment.’
I headed aft to look for Jenn. She wasn’t in her office, but there was laughter sounding from the kitchen: Alain’s laugh. I shoved the pang down and put my head round the door. She and Rafael were leaning together over a book on the counter. I would get used to it …
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘Jenn, we’ve got our first trainees.’ I jerked my head deckwards. ‘Laura and Oliver Eastley.’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I’ll come and get their passports.’
The trainee introduction was a fixed routine. Red watch began at the forward part of the ship, the lookout deck and foresails area, with the heads and showers below the foredeck. Blue watch was taken up to the aft deck, and shown the wheel, ship’s compass and bell. White watch did the main deck first, 25which included rig training, so I sent my two ABs, Mona and Johan, for the net bag of climbing harnesses, and by the time they’d hauled that on deck the first of the trainees had started to fill the dock with a sea of bags. On the dot of noon, Agnetha went forward to welcome them, and the next half hour was busy with greeting and indicating lockers.
After that, we lined them all up on deck, in their watches, and Rolf, the bosun, took a photograph of each watch, then nipped off to print them out while the captain did his welcome speech. I surveyed my seventeen and matched them to the printed list Rolf slipped into my hand. Ten male, seven female. The Eastleys were the only Brits. Otherwise, we had eleven Norwegians, a Danish husband and wife, and two Swedish men. There was a family, the Hansens, with father, mother, two teenage sons and a younger daughter, twelve perhaps. The older boy was already eyeing up the mast as if it was an adventure playground; the younger was hiding under his hoodie, phone in hand. The two older men beside them wore well-used sailing jackets, and had that seaman’s tan that was more like weathering. They’d be good on the team, quick to obey orders, and familiar with boat terminology. There was a pair of women in their twenties, tall, fair, and already eyeing the crew up with interest; the ship’s sirens for the voyage. Another woman, standing on her own, had that teacher air of authority. As I watched, she turned and made a comment to the man beside her, also standing on his own. He was wearing a heavy black jacket and had that forces look, an off-duty soldier, or maybe an ambulance man – no, a firefighter, as he turned to show the red and white stripes on his shoulder. Three stars: Overbranmester, a senior officer. The Danish couple were a reversal of the usual: her sailing jacket was well-worn, while his was obviously new for the voyage, and while she was scanning the masts with sparkling eyes, 26his mouth was twisted down, apprehensive. The two Swedes were at the end, both in their mid-forties, looking around as if this was all new to them. Pretty average for a watch: plenty of enthusiasm, some experience, a couple of good heavyweights for rope-hauling.
I watched from the aft deck as Petter took my trainees through the rig training. They began by checking arm strength – a quick lift from the bars of the boat deck, the raised area amidships. All five of the family passed; they had that look of people who did regular sports. Oliver Eastley flexed his muscles, then pulled himself up on his arms without any visible effort. Laura looked up, hesitated, and stepped back, but Oliver cajoled her forwards, and she raised herself and swung competently enough. One of the older men swung himself up without difficulty, and the other shook his head. One non-climber. One of the Swedes and the firefighter joined him at the side rail and there was some joking comment about fear of landing. The firefighter indicated his broad shoulders and gave the ratlines a shake – not up to his weight. The teacher stepped forward, swung herself up briskly, hung for the count of fifteen, then lowered herself down. The sirens shimmied up with the air of women who went to the gym. The Danish man gave it a try, looking up apprehensively. His wife had to clamber up the ladder to reach the rail, but then swung competently enough. Eleven definites out of seventeen was good going.
Next step was emptying pockets, then fitting the harnesses. They were proper climbing harnesses with thigh and shoulder straps and a central chest buckle. Petter gave the safety talk, then led the first four up the mainmast ratlines, a spider’s web of wooden horizontals and thick wire uprights bound with gripping cord. Mona joined them, encouraging, particularly at the awkward bit before the first platform, where the web narrowed to less than foot width, and they had to hang half 27upside-down to get around and onto the jutting-out platform.
They let them stand on the platform for five minutes, looking across at the canvas-swathed spars all around them, down to the wooden deck ten metres below, then Petter led the descent on the opposite ratlines. He spoke upwards at them: ‘Remember, the most dangerous part is the last two metres. Never relax until your feet are actually on the deck.’
Johan was already on his way up with the next four, leaving the last group looking upwards: Oliver Eastley and the Danish wife impatiently, Laura and the Danish man with apprehension. Rafael lounged out of the aft companionway. ‘I’ll stand guard below if you want to take them up, Cass.’
My heart leapt at the thought of going aloft. He’d known it would; I saw it in the slight smile that hovered around his mouth. ‘Thanks,’ I said, and swung down to the aft banjer door to get my harness from the crew hooks. My hands fastened it without me needing to think about it: shoulder straps, thighs, carabiner. ‘Ready?’
The Danish wife nodded, and set off upwards. Her husband followed, as though he didn’t want to be shown up. I suspected that once we were at sea he’d prefer to be deck team. Laura gave Oliver an uncertain glance. He nodded. ‘Oh, yes.’ He laid a hand on her arm. ‘Come on, Lols, give it a go.’
‘Are you OK with heights?’ I asked her.
She nodded. ‘We did a climbing wall on one of those corporate team-bonding things, and I was fine with that.’ She didn’t look fine, though, with her gaze flicking to Oliver every couple of seconds. I motioned them onto the ratlines, and swung onto the spider’s web beside Laura, feet secure on the wooden treads, the rope paint-smooth in my bare hands. Laura climbed steadily upwards until we were almost at the first platform, then 28she stopped, looking up. For a moment I thought she’d frozen. Above us, Oliver was eyeing up the rope ladder that jutted out into the air above our heads, going in a diagonal from the ratlines to the edge of the platform. Laura was watching him, face anxious. Then before I could give him instructions he’d swung himself onto it, hands tight around the wires at the upper edge of the platform, arms taking his weight as he scrambled upwards, feet fumbling to squeeze into the narrow lines at the top. With a heave and a shove, he was over and on the platform, looking down. ‘The view’s good up here. Come and look.’
‘That was doing it the hard way,’ I said to Laura. ‘We don’t have his arm strength, so what we do is imagine that we’re coming down. Keep thinking downwards, and put your weight on your legs, with your hands just there to keep you balanced.’
She looked at me, face tight with concentration, looked at Oliver, then nodded and moved upwards again. She was agile, and her feet were neat enough to fit into even the sections immediately below the platform. She pushed herself up onto the iron grid, lay for a moment, then stood up. I joined her.
The view was worth the climb. At eye level and upwards, there was the elegant precision of yards and furled sails, joined by the tracery of ropes. Outwards from the ship, Kristiansand was spread below us. Straight ahead, the broad street led up to the market square, a jumble of coloured awnings and spreads of flowers and vegetables, with the rose-pink cathedral tall behind. To our left, the waterfront ran along to the railway station; to our right, the red wood buildings of the fish market basked in the sun.
‘Come on,’ Oliver said impatiently, and began to climb downwards. I saw Laura safely off the platform, then stood 29looking out, filling my lungs with the clean air. This is what I was made for …
I couldn’t stand up here all day. I followed Laura down and checked my watch. 14.45. We should be finished by 15.30, giving the trainees time to relax before casting off, and the open sea.
I took my harness off and returned to the aft deck. Alain, Rafael, was still there, leaning against the rail. ‘Thanks,’ I said.
‘You looked like someone who’d rather be climbing. Me too.’
‘One of the downsides of officer rank.’ My trainees had disappeared forrard. I kept facing out towards the main deck, as if I was still watching them.
‘I’m only doing it for the money.’ I could hear he was smiling. ‘I have a boat. I’m fitting her out to go round the world.’
‘It all costs,’ I agreed. Something inside me twisted. That was what we’d planned all those years ago: the Atlantic crossing to see if we were up to it, then start again and go down Africa, work our way around, continent-hopping. We’d been young and daft. ‘What do you have?’
‘A Vancouver 34. Cutter-rigged.’
‘That’ll take you round the world, all right.’
He shifted against the rail so that he was looking at my face. ‘When I’ve finished the work on her. She needs the lot: new rigging, new sails, the engine stripped right down. You’re a live-aboard yourself, Jenn was saying?’
I nodded.
‘Your boat’s in Shetland?’
‘Yes.’
He paused, looking at me quizzically. ‘Is this personal, or doesn’t your cop boyfriend let you even talk to other guys?’
I shoved myself off the rail and glared at him. ‘I’m naturally taciturn, and I don’t like being gossiped about.’30
He straightened up, and raised his hands in a Hey, cool it gesture. I remembered the way I used to stand leaning against him, with his chin just the right height to rest on the top of my head, and felt tears prick my eyes. I turned away hastily, hunching my shoulder at him as if I was in a huff.
‘The information about the boat came before the information about the boyfriend,’ he said. ‘If that makes it any better.’
Damn him for being so cool about it! I’d spent eleven years thinking I’d killed him, and he strolled in just like this … ‘Slightly,’ I conceded. If I hadn’t been off duty I’d have stalked off, but I couldn’t do that with Captain Sigurd’s eye on me.
‘What is she?’
That was easier. I kept my voice offhand. A Vancouver out-ranked my Khalida both in length and kudos. ‘A Van de Stadt production model, an Offshore 8m.’
‘I know the one. Shortcuts taken on the joinery, but a good, solid hull laid up in the days before they knew just how thin they could stretch glass fibre. Where do you keep her?’
‘She’s in Shetland now.’ He didn’t react to the name. ‘Brae, my home port.’
His eyes flickered, but he didn’t reply. Whatever game he was playing, I wasn’t joining in.
‘That’s my watch ready to move aft.’
I walked away, leaving him standing there, and felt his eyes on my back, thoughtful, all the way down the steps.
We were all on duty for leaving Kristiansand. Our white ship motored across the harbour, where the sunlight gleamed on the white bridge and red roofs, and cast golden ripples on the curved wooden overhang of the opera house. We came through the channel to where the shore became wave-polished rock, 31with twisted rowans thrusting their roots down into crevices of seaweed-rich earth. The white lighthouses blinked from under scarlet conical hats.
‘We’ll hoist the lower two sails,’ Captain Sigurd said. ‘A team to each mast.’
I nodded at Petter, and he came over. He was our crew film star, tall and blonde, with a way of leaning against the rail that turned him instantly into a promotion shot for his smart jacket, or the coffee mug he was holding. He’d done time as a navy cadet before joining us, but his whole air oozed privilege – preppy, you’d say in the States. Aristokratisch. I was getting on better with him since I’d suggested his promotion to watch leader. Agnetha had made sure he knew it was I who’d recommended him, and he’d managed a stammered thank you before backing off as if I might bite him. I couldn’t see why I made him so nervous, but his nerves made me awkward too, so we didn’t work easily together. He was a good watch leader, at ease with his team, if not with me, and he’d deserved the promotion.
‘Hoist the main sail and lower topsail.’
He nodded, and headed off to round up our climbing team. Harnesses on and checked, then I watched as he and Mona led them upwards. The two older men and Oliver Eastley followed Petter, climbing steadily and sliding out along the yard with no hesitation. Laura Eastley hesitated, watching Oliver, then followed Mona, the teacher, and the Danish wife out along the opposite yard. The bodies draped over the yard, fumbling with the buntlines, then the sail fell into crumpled folds, ready to be pulled down from deck level. Below, on the main deck, Johan was already organising the non-climbers into teams at the ropes. Within fifteen minutes we had the main sail pulling in a beautiful curve, and were ready to repeat the task on the lower topsail.32
Once the sails were set, the red and blue watches stood down, leaving my watch on duty. The ship set her shoulder to the swell, and each curved wave reflected a crescent of sunlight. By 18.30, the coast of Norway had receded to a cloudy mass on the horizon. I glanced upwards at the tiers of sail, then out to the horizon of blue water, and my heart sang. The land-pull to Gavin receded. This was what I was made for: this great sweep of water all around me, with the wind gentle on my skin, the ship creaking, the water curling under her forefoot and pulling away along her sides in a long V of foam.
The firefighter was on the ship’s wheel – an easy task now, since all we had to do was head north-west across three hundred nautical miles of sea to Lerwick. The rest of today and all tomorrow before we saw land again.
‘Steady as she goes,’ I said to him. ‘281 degrees. Mr Berg, isn’t it?’
‘Frederik,’ he said.
‘Your first shot aboard a tall ship?’
He nodded. He was dark for a Norwegian, with brown curly hair and velvet-black eyes that were surveying me in a way I didn’t quite care for, almost as if he was assessing my suitability for being his boss. I felt my chin go up, my shoulders straighten. His were twice the width of mine, made even broader by his padded black jacket. ‘Surprisingly, given my husband’s job. I’ve been meaning to come, but something’s always cropped up.’ He smiled, showing white teeth. ‘It was worth the wait.’ His eyes went back to the compass, then returned to me, still with that curious, measuring gaze.
I turned to his standby, Oliver. ‘How about you? Your first time?’ I felt like the Queen inspecting troops: And what do you do?
He nodded. ‘We’d always meant to go to see Shetland, and 33then Laura spotted this trip, and we thought, well, why not?’ His voice was smooth and warm, like poured honey, his eyes pale blue under the fair brows. There was something unsettling about him, a memory tugging. Those pale eyes – then I remembered a polecat my friend Magnie had trapped, with a glossy brown coat and a neat face dominated by those same pale eyes, sharp and malevolent.
There was no sign of malevolence in Oliver. His eyes were friendly, his smile charming; then his face clouded over. ‘We lost our parents, seven months ago. Car crash. Laura’s finding it hard to get over. I thought this would help take her mind off. A complete change of scene, physical exercise, people all around her.’ He paused, and looked a bit embarrassed. ‘I’m not meaning to make a big thing of it. It’s just I thought, as you’re the boss of our team, maybe you should know.’ He held up one hand, as if to forestall any questions I was about to ask. ‘She’s not on any medication, or anything. Just not her usual self.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Thanks for letting me know. I’ll keep an eye on her.’
His eyes gleamed with an odd satisfaction, and I was reminded of the polecat again. I shook the memory away. My brain caught up with my ears. Our parents, he’d said. I’d taken them for husband and wife, but now I looked, of course they were brother and sister.
He looked like a gadget man. ‘Have you seen inside the nav shack?’
He shook his head. ‘It looked like “officers only” to me.’
‘Come and look.’ I showed him the chart plotter, and, as I’d expected, he worked it straight away, and asked about other functions. I left him zooming in and out, and trying different versions of the chart. We were a little pulse just starting to head out across twenty centimetres of blue. While he did that I took 34my hand-held compass and did a fix on the still-visible pricks of light from the land; Captain Sigurd expected a three-point fix every half hour. Standing against the rail, balancing to the ocean swell, I took a deep breath of sea air, and smiled. Home.
CHAPTER THREE
At 19.00, all the officers ate together in the captain’s mess, seated in order of seniority, with Captain Sigurd at the head of the table, and Henrik, the chief steward, at the foot. Agnetha was on Captain Sigurd’s right, and Johanna, the chief engineer, was on his left. We three sailing officers were on Agnetha’s side, Nils first, me, then Alain, Rafael, so close that I could feel the warmth of his thigh against mine. Jenn, Sadie and Rolf faced us. Rafael began to reach out for the bread, and I just had time to nudge him in the ribs with my elbow before Captain Sigurd said his formal grace. I caught the flicker of a wink before Rafael bowed his head.
Mealtimes were silent affairs. It wasn’t done for a mere officer to introduce a topic, so we waited until Captain Sigurd made a stately comment, to which we murmured assent. I ate my pasta and pork swiftly, excused myself, and headed back to my watch. There would be an all-hands muster at 19.30, led by Jenn and 36Henrik, and then it would be handover time. I checked our course with the helm, then projected a line from it across the blue screen. Bang on.
I was just entering the course in the log when a shadow darkened the nav shack doorway. I didn’t need to look to know that it was Alain; every nerve-end I had tingled with his presence. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realise we were on a praying ship.’
I waved my hand dismissively, and made with the words as if he was just any new shipmate. ‘When I first arrived those mealtimes terrified me. Every scrape of my knife on the china seemed to echo round the room for the next ten minutes.’
‘It’s a lot more formal than the States.’
‘Is that where you’ve been?’ I looked up, and felt my heart thumping at the intensity of his grey eyes, so close to mine. I turned back to the log, and was about to lift the pencil when I realised that my hand was trembling.
‘The States? Yeah. I trained in San Juan.’
‘Is that where your Vancouver is?’
He shook his head. ‘Boston. That’s where her previous owner lived, and he let me keep the berth on for another season while I did her up. He’s keeping an eye on her for me, and I’ll check her out when we get there.’
‘But your family’s in San Juan?’ I kept my tone casual.
I’d touched a nerve. His face closed against me. ‘I don’t have any family. What’s our course?’
Barriers up. ‘281 degrees.’ I indicated the chart. ‘Spot on for the south mainland of Shetland on Friday morning.’
‘Swell. What about this muster thing? Do we have to go down to that?’
‘It won’t take long – just announcements from Jenn and 37Henrik. Tidy your stuff up, that kind of thing. Oh, and moments of awesome.’
‘Moments of awesome?’ he repeated, rather too loudly.
‘You’ll see.’
We clattered down the aft steps together and took our places. Jenn welcomed the trainees, and reminded them about not leaving their stuff lying about. With every trainee owning at least one gadget needing charged, the banjer could become a nightmare of trip hazards, with every plug trailing a flex to the nearest table. ‘Gone by breakfast time,’ Jenn warned them. Henrik reminded them about not wasting food, and then – I braced myself for it – came the moments of awesome, Jenn’s way of moulding us together as a crew. I ignored Alain’s amused glance downwards at me as she announced them and then left a silence for us to contribute. ‘Going up the mast,’ Oliver called out. ‘That was awesome.’
‘Cool!’ Jenn said. ‘How about the red watch?’
‘The engine going off,’ one of them said, and another nodded.
Jenn turned her head to Alain. ‘Blue watch, you haven’t had your turn yet, so I’ll expect two moments of awesome from you tomorrow evening.’
‘I’ll give you one right now,’ Alain said. I should have known he’d play along. ‘Being on this amazing ship with all these cool people.’ He got a round of applause for that, though not from me.
‘Great note to end on,’ Jenn said, and dismissed us. The blue watch scurried for their jackets, and mine drittled to their places on deck. Ten minutes to go. I did a last check of our heading, and reported our position and course to Captain Sigurd. No whales, no waterspouts, no oil rigs as yet, barometer steady. I came back out on deck and yawned, trying to get myself into the mood for sleep. I was due on deck at 03.30.38
Alain bounded up the steps two at a time, jacket slung over his shoulder. My heart ached at the sight. I swallowed and looked away as he spoke. ‘281 degrees, right?’
‘Right.’ I signed myself off in the log. ‘You have the ship.’
‘I have the ship,’ he agreed, and signed on.
I left him to it, and stood for a moment by the rail, looking out at the water. It hazed under my gaze. I swore to myself, and rubbed the tears away. Agnetha came up beside me, and we were silent for a moment, then Agnetha turned her back to the gleaming sea, and spoke across her shoulder at me. ‘There’s a trainee on board I’m not sure about.’
I turned round, hoping nothing showed on my face, and looked an enquiry.
‘Daniel Christie. He’s on Nils’s watch, so you may not have noticed him. Late twenties, UK passport. That’s a Scottish surname, isn’t it?’
I nodded, intrigued now.
‘He doesn’t fit.’ She frowned. ‘I can’t put my finger on it. His jacket is best sailing quality, but it’s brand new, and though he’s fit enough it’s the kind of gym fitness you’d get in a businessman who works out. I just don’t see … there’s no reason why an office worker shouldn’t decide he wants to try a tall ship, but …’
I knew what she meant. ‘Yes. No sailing background at all’s unusual. How’s he getting along on watch?’
‘Oh, he joined in fine hoisting the sails, but somehow he’s separate from them all.’ She frowned at the grey hills on the horizon. ‘He just doesn’t feel right. As if the ship is a cover for something else. Well, obviously we can’t search his baggage. We could have a word with the customs beforehand, when we get back to Norway.’39
‘Difficult,’ I agreed.
‘Anyway, what I wondered was, could you have a casual chat with him as you do the deck round? I just want to know how he strikes you.’
‘Which is he?’
She nodded down towards the main deck. ‘There. Talking to the blonde charmer from your watch.’
I followed her gaze. Oliver was standing with one hand on the ropes running down from the mainsail. A man I hadn’t particularly noticed was lounging against the rail beside him. They were chatting animatedly, Daniel gesturing with his free hand, and Oliver laughing.
I saw at once what Agnetha meant. Daniel’s whole air said city office: a lawyer, an accountant, an admin assistant. His mid-brown hair was fashionably cut in that sleeked-back style that tends to flop over onto the brow, except that it was gelled in place. His brows were set low, his nose long and straight, and he had a long chin in an oddly shaped jaw, angled to a point at each corner, which a manicured stubble beard didn’t quite disguise. He was wearing a navy and grey Musto jacket, the newest breathable offshore design at a cool £400, along with the more expensive trainer-style Musto deck shoes; those were new as well.
I nodded to Agnetha. ‘I’ll check him out.’
I generally took Cat for a last stroll before settling down for the night. Even as I looked round, he appeared from the nav shack, and gave me his soundless mew. ‘Come on then, boy,’ I said, and he followed me down the steps, magnificent tail held high to show the silvery-ash underside. We did the round of the deck, with the trainees admiring him, and asking the usual questions about whether he got seasick, and if he had a litter tray, and ended up at Oliver and Daniel. ‘Hi, Oliver,’ I said. I turned to Daniel and held 40out my hand. ‘Hi. I’m Cass. I’m in charge of the white watch.’
He gave me one of those doublehanded shakes. ‘Daniel Christie, of the red watch.’ His voice was conventional educated Scots, east coast, similar to Oliver’s, and he was the same age. I had a prickling feeling down my spine. ‘Do you two know each other? From home, I mean?’
I thought Daniel gave the beginning of a nod, before Oliver leapt in smoothly. ‘That’s the story, isn’t it? You put two Scots from Edinburgh together in the middle of the Sahara, and before you know it they’re talking about Princes Street and Hogmanay parties, or the discos they went to when they were young.’ He gave Daniel a considering look. ‘We’d probably have gone to all the same ones, but I don’t think I know your face.’
Daniel had his cue now. He shook his head. ‘Which school did you go to – Fettes?’
‘Stewart’s Melville.’
‘I was George Watson’s.’ He smiled, showing perfect teeth. ‘But we’re both Edinburgh, so here we are on a Norwegian sailing ship, talking about Princes Street.’
Oliver bent down to stroke Cat, who was stretching up against my leg, bored of not being noticed. ‘Your cat’s a beauty.’
Cat jumped lightly up onto the square rail surrounding the mast, and prepared to be admired.
‘Have you done much sailing?’ I asked Daniel.
He shook his head. ‘In dinghies on a school trip, but not since. The financial crash put everyone on longer hours. It’s only now I’ve started to get evenings to myself. Then I saw the Sørlandet on its website and thought, well, why not? There were plenty of flights to Kristiansand, so I decided to join it there and do the whole trip.’
There was tension underlying his light voice, and he was 41explaining too much. A lightweight, I thought, the junior partner in whatever was going on. Oliver cut in again. ‘This is wonderful, being at sea.’ He gestured upwards, to where Alain’s watch was climbing towards the upper topsail yards. ‘Will we get all the sails up now, do you think?’
‘A good few of them, anyway.’ We spread the sail-handling load over a couple of watches to keep our speed down to about eight knots, for ease of passage planning, and to share the work round the trainees. I turned my head back to Daniel. ‘Have you been aloft?’
He nodded, and the colour came back to his face. The muscles in his neck relaxed. ‘It was great. I loved looking down at the water, and seeing the waves going past below, as you’re up balanced on this rope high in the air.’
I couldn’t keep asking questions. I made it casual. ‘You sound like someone who’s into extreme sports.’
‘I’ve done a bit of rock-climbing. It’s a change to be over water, rather than looking down at tumbles of rocks, or a river gully.’ He pulled a face. ‘It doesn’t look so hard, if you know what I mean.’
‘It is though,’ I said. ‘Hitting water from that height would be just like hitting stone.’
‘Oh, I know that intellectually. But my eyes don’t believe it.’ Oliver, beside him, made a movement, a turn of his wrist as if he was looking at his watch, and Daniel copied it, shaking back his sleeve to show what I suspected was a Rolex. ‘Is that the time? I’m on duty at midnight. Better get some shut-eye.’
He was just turning away when Laura came over. This time, there was no sign of recognition. He looked her over with the air of a man assessing his chances for a holiday romance, and considering them good. He settled back against the rail, with as easy a grace as 42if it had been rehearsed, and smiled. ‘Hi. Daniel Christie.’
‘Laura Eastley. This is fun, isn’t it?’ She gave him a quick, assessing look, smiled back, then looked at me and smiled again. ‘Hi, Cass.’ Her attention was on Oliver. ‘I’m going to turn in now, get as much sleep as I can. We need to be up at four, remember.’
‘I’m remembering,’ he said, and didn’t move. ‘You know me, I can get by on practically no sleep.’
‘I know how hard it is to wake you too,’ she retorted. She raised a hand at Daniel. ‘See you later. See you at four, Oliver.’
Daniel watched her go, then shoved himself upright. ‘Well, my hammock calls. Good to meet you, Oliver.’
‘I think Laura has the right idea,’ I said. She wasn’t the only one; the trainees were thinning out. There was nothing like sea air for upping your sleep hours. I headed back to the aft deck and joined Agnetha by the rail.
‘Well?’ she said.
