Read After the Storm Online

Authors: Jane Lythell

After the Storm (14 page)

BOOK: After the Storm
5.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

He often said to her that people needed so little to be happy: a place of shelter, enough to eat and a passion: be it sailing or cooking or fishing or whatever. And a loving relationship she would add. Yeah of course, he would say, that was fundamental, but the American way of needing so much, of needing cars and swimming pools and technological toys was bullshit. It was an endless greedy pursuit that could never be satisfied and that left the pursuer feeling empty. She bought into his world view up to a point although she knew she wanted more things than he did. She saw some coconuts lying on the beach and shook several of them, holding them to her ear, and selected two.

Anna was telling Owen about her job. She had to teach her clients how to do vocal exercises and sometimes her old men felt foolish doing these.

‘It’s very important I get them to trust me and open up to me. That can be the most difficult bit. I’m working with this old man at the moment and we weren’t making any progress. The turning point was after Christmas. He was trying to tell me something and had tears in his eyes and I thought it was because he couldn’t find the right words. So we took our time and slowly I understood. He was saying: “Why would you buy a person a bad gift?” He was upset because his sister had given him a cheap and nasty gift. Why had she done that? Was it her way of rebuking him? Why had she given him anything at all? I said: “You’re saying it’s better not to give anything than to give something bought with such little love.” He said yes, that was it exactly. He was so glad I’d understood him. It sounds trivial Owen, but it wasn’t. He was talking about his feelings. Since then he’s started to make good progress.’

‘You like your old men, don’t you?’ he said.

‘I do. I was always very close to my granddad, loved him to bits. I lived with him and my granny when I was little you see.’

‘Why was that?’

‘Mum and Dad were in an orchestra and had to travel all over the country. That’s how they met, in an orchestra. So they left me with Granny and Granddad, in Norfolk. And then he died four years ago. It was dreadful, dreadful. He was the first person really close to me who died. May I?’

She reached for his water bottle and took another swig.

‘He was a special man you see, a truly kind man. He worked most of his life as an ambulance driver. He was with people when they were struck down, and he said that even the most powerful man on earth was vulnerable when illness came. He liked that he could do something for people at that moment, when they needed it most.’

‘He sounds like a good granddad to have,’ he said.

‘Oh he was.’

Her eyes filled with tears.

‘Sorry,’ she sniffed and flicked them away.

‘And you didn’t mind being left there, when you were so little?’

‘Oh no, I loved it there. They had this small cottage with a large garden that seemed to go on forever. Granddad was mad on Sweet Peas. Do you know the flower? He grew them for competitions, in his greenhouse. I loved going in there; the smell was wonderful. And I
hated
it when I had to go and live with Mum and Dad. I much preferred being at the cottage.’

‘When was that?’

She had started to twist a hank of her long dark hair.

‘I was coming up to eight and my dad got this job in Canterbury. And my twin brothers came along a year later. Maybe I felt displaced by the boys, I don’t know, but I was always asking to go back to Granddad’s.’

She shook out the twist in her hair, running her fingers through it.

‘I’ve often wondered if mum got pregnant with me by mistake. I know they loved their life in the orchestra. They loved the freedom of being on the road. When they talk about it they get all lit up. A small child is a hindrance to that kind of life.’

‘So you’re not a daddy’s girl then?’ he said.

‘Oh no, I was a granddaddy’s girl.’

They smiled at each other and he shared the last of the water with her.

‘You know I used to do Karate lessons. My dad was so keen for me to learn how to defend myself and I was starting to win competitions in Clearwater. One Fall weekend there was a city-wide contest. It was a big deal. My dad was home on leave and he took me to the sports hall where the competition was being held.’

Anna nodded. She felt gratified that Owen was telling her about his father. Maybe it was because she had opened up to him.

‘So we’re heading to the hall when a car drives by and as it passes us it backfires so loudly. My dad flung himself flat on the ground and pressed his face into the sidewalk. He was trembling and whimpering and wouldn’t move and I didn’t know what to do.’

Anna nodded sympathetically.

‘How awful,’ she said.

‘I was ashamed of him, my strong brave dad lying on the sidewalk and whimpering like a girl. We never made it to the competition that day.’

‘Is your dad in the forces?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘It’s just that his reaction; well it sounds like Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder to me.’

Owen’s face closed down.

‘I don’t know why I told you that Anna. I’m sorry but I don’t like talking about it.’

She wanted to continue the conversation but she didn’t push it. She knew it took time for people to open up. They saw Kim walking back towards them carrying some coconuts in her arms.

As Kim approached she noticed how Anna was sitting next to Owen, a bit too close she thought. She was talking animatedly to him and twisting her hair in that annoying way she had as she leaned in towards him. She had never once talked to her like that. Kim reached them and sat down on the other side of Owen. Whatever they had been talking about so intently had ended with her arrival. She put the two coconuts down on the sand with a thud.

‘Nice walk?’ Anna said.

‘Yeah. There’s a whole pile of these good to eat on the other side if we want more. I think two is enough. You can overdose on coconuts.’

And then they all saw Rob rowing back along the shoreline and he was waving excitedly at them and giving them a thumbs-up.

‘He must have caught something,’ Anna said.

They stood at the water’s edge while he rowed over to them. His face said it all. They helped him pull the dinghy ashore and in the bottom were two good looking fish.

‘Awesome, they’re red snapper. Gorgeous fish… we’ll have such a feast tonight,’ Kim said.

She was actually clapping her hands in her glee.

Anna laughed delightedly and looked at Rob with pride. He was beaming.

‘Well done buddy,’ Owen said.

An hour later Rob was sitting in the saloon and watching Kim cook his two fish.

‘These are real beauties,’ she said.

She cooked them whole in a little oil with a generous squeeze of lime juice. The galley filled with a wonderful smell. As she cooked she told him how much she wanted her own café, how the idea kept tugging at her and would not let her go.

‘You can make it happen,’ he said.

‘You think so?’

‘Yes, you’re a brilliant cook.’

‘Thanks. I could do the cooking all right, but it’s the set-up costs and that kinda thing that concerns me.’

‘Well if I could start a business with my two mates.’

‘Your brewery?’

‘Micro-brewery. We had very little business know-how when we set up. We got some help from my mate’s dad who knew about cash-flow and stuff. But you know the most important thing was the wanting to do it and then sticking at it. Now we’re making a small profit. If you really want to do it Kim I know you will.’

‘Hey I could stock your beers,’ she said.

‘You could. That could be one of your special offers: bespoke British beers for the discerning palate.’

They giggled.

‘I think I could do it. If there’s something I wanna do I work hard at it. I guess what worries me is how Owen will adjust.’

‘Would he be working in the café with you?’

‘Jeez no, that would never work. He’ll go back to working in a boatyard.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘He’s very into this way of life, picking up work when and where we can. He’d go on doing it for ever I think, if he could.’

‘And you don’t want that?’

‘No I don’t. Feels like it’s time to go home.’

‘Tell him that then Kim.’

‘And there’s another problem.’

‘What?’

‘He’d have to sell his boat so I can have my café.’

She used a spatula to take the cooked fish out and placed them side by side on a large plate. She placed a few thin slices of lime on the top. She wanted the others to see Rob’s catch in all its glory.

‘Food’s up,’ she shouted.

They sat in the cockpit and ate Rob’s two fish until only the spine and the heads were left on the plate.

Anna and Rob were lying curled up together under his palm frond roof. They had brought the quilt from their cabin to lie on. Earlier they had lain flat on the sand and had watched the inverted bowl of the sky. They had never seen the sky like that, with no human light to diminish its majesty.

‘The stars look like they’re floating,’ Anna said.

‘We’ll never forget this moment, will we? It will be one of those moments that comes back to you on your deathbed,’ Rob said.

‘Shhh… death seems a long way away,’ she said.

Day Ten

It was just after sunrise when Owen and Rob hauled the sails up and watched them fill with the breeze. Anna and Kim came up on deck to say goodbye to the Cay that had been their home for the last two days. They were all deeply tanned, the men were unshaven and the mood between them was relaxed but tinged with regret to be leaving their paradise Cay.

‘Today’s the day we get to Roatán,’ Owen said.

The weather was good with a fine breeze that helped them along. They had a full day’s sailing ahead of them and sped through the sea without incident. Anna and Kim lay on the deck in their bikinis as the men worked the sails.

By early evening they were approaching the island of Roatán. At some point during the last ten days they had all wondered if they would ever reach their destination. It felt as if they had been tested and had known each other for a long time, longer than the actual time since their coming together on the boat. They sailed along the south side of the island. Anna had her notebook out and was jotting down her first impressions. It was a long thin island, forty miles in length and two miles wide. It was fertile, with lush green hillsides and abundant palms framing the shoreline. It was well populated too. They saw white villas built into the hillside with terraced gardens. Along the shore were smaller traditional wooden houses, some built on stilts which were reached by duckboard jetties. They passed a number of small harbours with sailboats and yachts moored for the night. There were working boats too: fishermen’s boats and tugs and small ferries that plied between the towns.

Owen was heading for a small pontoon near the town of French Harbour, which was about mid-way along the island on the south side. He was friends with the owner of a pontoon there, Brad, and he planned to moor there for the next few days.

‘I’m so glad to be here at last. Shall we go to Vivienne’s Bar tonight to celebrate?’ Kim said.

She told them their friend Vivienne had a popular bar near where they were going to moor.

‘She started with a small bar on the beach, not much more than a shack. She’s worked so hard and now she’s got this big bar and guest house and it’s the place to go to in French Harbour.’

‘She’s Kim’s hero,’ Owen said.

‘She is and you know why? She’s done it all through her own efforts. She never had any help or any hand outs. Yeah, you’ve gotta meet Vivienne.’

They reached the pontoon and Owen and Rob had to sail the boat into the empty space without the aid of an engine. It took them a few attempts before they managed to drop the sails at exactly the right moment and drift up to the pontoon.

‘We did it,’ Owen said to Rob. ‘It’s not easy without an engine. You’ve become a fine sailor.’

Owen jumped off the boat and secured the mooring lines.

‘I need to find Brad and tell him we’re tied up here.’

He headed towards the harbour where he knew there were a number of cafés and bars. He entered one and paid to use the phone there. The phone was in a public space, right at the end of the bar. There were drinkers standing close by so he would need to be cryptic. He dialled Money Joe’s cell phone number and after a few rings he heard his rasping voice.


Hola
?’

‘Joe, it’s Owen.’

‘Where are you?’

‘We just got into Roatán.’

‘Raul and I were getting worried at how long you were taking. We thought you might be lost at sea.’

He laughed nastily.

Owen felt his face and his voice hardening.

‘We hit a storm. I’ve got a gift for you and can bring it to your house tomorrow.’

‘I’m in San Pedro Sula comrade. Bring it round in four days’ time.’

‘OK. See you then.’

Owen hung up and ordered himself a double whisky. He downed this quickly, thinking about those few words with Money Joe. The guy gave him the creeps. If Kim knew he was dealing with that lowlife as she called him she’d be furious. He had promised her he would stay away from him and his crowd. He didn’t like dealing with him either, but needs must and his cut on the deal would keep them afloat for a while longer.

When he got back to the boat they had all decided it was too late to go out and they would bed down early. They spent a calm first night on Roatán being gently rocked by the
El Tiempo Pasa
.

Day Eleven

They were in the cockpit drinking coffee and feeling light-hearted to have reached Roatán at last. They watched the chatter and activity in the other sailing boats moored along the pontoon. Several people walked by and shouted greetings to Owen and Kim who waved back. Rob recognised the feeling of community among these boat owners, much like how things had been in the commune when he was a boy. He could see the appeal of this life, could understand why Owen was reluctant to give it up.

‘Is there a launderette here? I’m running out of clean T-shirts,’ Anna said.

‘And knickers,’ Rob added loudly.

BOOK: After the Storm
5.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

And De Fun Don't Done by Robert G. Barrett
A Corpse in the Soup by Morgan St. James and Phyllice Bradner
Windrunner's Daughter by Bryony Pearce
Unspeakable Proposal by Lee, Brenda Stokes
Bakra Bride by Walters, N. J.
Upgrading by Simon Brooke
Code to Zero by Follett, Ken
The Italian's Love-Child by Sharon Kendrick