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Authors: Doug Johnstone

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Social Issues, #General

Smokeheads (15 page)

BOOK: Smokeheads
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35

 
 

‘What if no one comes?’ said Adam.

Molly shrugged as she poured more petrol on the Audi’s undercarriage. The flames roared briefly, sending thick black smoke billowing straight up into a pristine sky. The acrid stench of burning fuel and rubber filled their noses. She shoogled the canister and listened. It was half empty already. She put it down next to Roddy, passed out on the ground under Ethan’s coat.

‘Someone will come.’

Adam looked west, the direction of the still. There was no trace of smoke in the sky over there. Were they too far away to see it? Had it burnt out already? Had someone spotted it in the night and called the fire brigade to put it out? Did they even have a fire brigade on Islay?

‘There’s no smoke from the still,’ he said.

‘I know.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I don’t know.’

Adam looked back at their own smoke signal, reaching lazily upwards into the cold blue.

‘What if no one comes?’

Molly turned to him. ‘I don’t have all the answers, I’m as much in the dark as you are. Stop asking stupid questions.’

Adam looked at her. She seemed close to tears, a wetness in her eyes, but then it could’ve been the petrol fumes. She turned away from his gaze.

Adam looked out to sea, then turned back as he realised Molly was crying – thick, heavy sobs into her hands as her body convulsed with the release of it.

‘It’s OK,’ he said, getting up and trying to put his arm around her. She flinched at his touch and shook him off.

‘It’s not OK,’ she snapped. ‘It’s never going to be OK, what’s happened.’

Adam stared at her back as she composed herself, wiping away tears with the backs of her hands and sniffing. He felt empty and didn’t know what to say.

‘Look, we’re all just a bit stressed,’ he said.

Molly laughed, a slice of acidic sound. ‘You think?’

They looked at each other, something passing between them, a flicker of what they’d felt back at her place, maybe, a painful reminder of how their lives could’ve been.

‘Sorry,’ he said again.

‘What do you have to be sorry for?’

‘If it wasn’t for me, none of us would be in this mess.’

Molly shook her head. ‘We were unlucky, that’s all.’

It was Adam’s turn to laugh. ‘I think unlucky is an understatement, don’t you?’

‘Maybe.’

He tentatively tried to put his arm round her again. To his surprise, she allowed herself to be held, leaning into him. He smelled her hair, a faint flowery shampoo amongst the bitter smokiness of the fire. It felt so nice holding her, he never wanted to let go. In the middle of the night, back in the still, he could never have imagined being this close to her again. He didn’t want it to end.

She pulled away awkwardly and nodded at Roddy.

‘Better check on numb-gums,’ she said. ‘Make sure he hasn’t OD-ed.’

She knelt and took the wrist of his good arm, felt for his pulse. She nodded. ‘Still with us, but weak. We should think about a Plan B for getting rescued quicker.’

‘Like what?’

Molly shrugged again. ‘Maybe one of us could walk round the coast the other way, see what we can find.’

‘You think that’s a good idea?’

‘I really don’t know.’

‘Wait,’ said Adam. ‘You hear something?’

It was faint, but there was definitely a rattling chug in the air. As he strained to listen it got louder, the sound of a rough diesel engine clanking and rumbling away. It was coming from above, up on the road, although he couldn’t see anything from down here.

Molly ran over and threw some more petrol on the fire, standing back as flames and smoke whooshed into the sky. They both turned, looking desperately along the top of the cliff where the road ran, and screaming. They were shouting and hollering for all they were worth as the engine noise grew louder and louder, then suddenly they saw a rusting tractor pulling up to the edge above them.

They were still yelling and now jumping up and down, waving their arms frantically as an old woman climbed out of the cab and peered down at them. She waved and they waved back.

‘Are you all right?’ Her voice was faint, with a thick island accent.

‘We need help,’ shouted Molly.

‘Anyone injured?’

‘One of us,’ said Molly. ‘We’ve got one dead as well, and one … missing.’

She looked at Adam on that last word.

‘Heavens,’ said the woman. ‘Oh my goodness. Hang on, I’ll get help. Can you wait? I need to go back to the farm to phone the police. That’ll take half an hour, it’s the other side of the Oa.’

Molly laughed. ‘Half an hour is fine, thank you.’

‘Not at all, my dear,’ the woman said. ‘Just hang on, we’ll get you out of there in a jiffy.’

The woman disappeared into the tractor, which revved then crawled away. They listened as the engine noise receded, then looked at each other, grins breaking out on their faces. They quickly hugged each other, then separated clumsily.

‘Thank Christ,’ said Molly, smiling and shaking her head.

‘I know.’ Adam put his head in his hands. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘Come on,’ said Molly. ‘Let’s tell Roddy we’ve saved his miserable wee life.’

They trudged over and slumped to their knees next to him.

‘Roddy,’ said Adam, shaking him. ‘Come on, Roddy, wake up, we’re saved.’

Roddy didn’t move.

‘Come on, big guy,’ Adam whispered into his ear. ‘Wake up, it’s going to be OK.’

No response.

Adam put two fingers to Roddy’s wrist, waited a moment, then pressed the fingers into his neck.

‘I can’t find a pulse.’

‘What?’ said Molly.

Adam put an ear to Roddy’s mouth and a hand on his chest.

‘Is he breathing?’

Adam shrugged, then grabbed Roddy’s head and shook. ‘Roddy, fucking hell.’

A smile crept over Roddy face as he opened his eyes, taking a while to focus.

‘What are you cunts waking me up for?’ he whispered. ‘I was having a pretty sweet dream about an orgy.’

‘Never mind that shit,’ said Adam, breathing heavily. ‘We’ve been spotted. We’re going to be rescued. Some old dear is away to get help. The smoke signal worked.’

Roddy smiled weakly.

‘Now it’s going to get interesting,’ he said. ‘Pass me that fucking coke.’

36

 
 

Two hours later they were chugging along the coast in an RNLI lifeboat heading for Port Ellen. The old lady had phoned the police, a spotty young copper appearing after an hour, assessing the situation and realising he didn’t have any equipment to get them back up the cliff. He called the lifeboat, which had to come from Port Askaig on the other side of the island, so it was almost noon by the time they were lugging Roddy and Ethan onto stretchers and helping Adam and Molly on board, Molly briefly swapping relieved banter with a member of the crew she knew.

They were given hot drinks and blankets, one of the crew injecting Roddy with morphine, another covering Ethan’s body with a sheet, for all the good that would do. The sight of Ethan and Luke’s mangled faces would always live with Adam, always haunt him.

They quickly gave the bare bones of their story to one of the crew, who listened impassively then went to radio it in to the police, contacting the ambulance at the same time to let them know what was coming.

Adam sat sipping from his cup, warming his hands, blanket hugged to his body. He felt strangely in limbo. The ordeal was over, they were rescued, but there was no relief, no possibility to relax. He and Molly still had a shitload of explaining to do. Or did they? Had anyone found Joe and Grant’s bodies? And if they had, would the police suspect a connection?

He watched the coast drift by, rocky cliffs peppered with nests and populated by swooping seabirds. Just as well they hadn’t tried to walk this way, there didn’t seem to be any path along the coast in this direction. Then again, heading the other way had got them into the biggest heap of fucking trouble of their lives. Should’ve stayed put, done the smoke signal thing from the start, then Luke would still be alive. But would anyone have been around to see the smoke? Still, sitting there in the freezing cold for the night would’ve been better than what they’d gone through. Bloody hindsight. He was tearing himself up about it, unable to get the sight of Luke’s missing face out of his head, the sound and smell of the wound, the feel of the cold flesh against his. It was unbearable. But he had to keep it together for all their sakes.

‘You OK?’ said Molly.

He shook his head, then felt her hand on his wrist.

He turned and smiled at her, but it was a weak gesture, a positivity he didn’t feel, and it felt stupid and unconvincing on his face.

Molly looked past him.

‘Here we go,’ she said.

Adam turned to see the low whitewashed rows of Port Ellen.

‘Back to civilisation, eh?’ he said.

Molly laughed under her breath. ‘Don’t know if I’d call it that.’

The boat turned towards the gap in the harbour wall, and they sped through it, Adam spotting the B&B where they were all still checked in. Shit, he would have to take Ethan and Luke’s stuff away. How long would Roddy be in hospital? What if he needed treatment off the island? They didn’t even have a car now, how would they ever get away from here? Maybe the police wouldn’t let them get away.

He saw the ambulance waiting at the dockside, a single police car next to it. An old copper with a paunch stood drinking coffee and chatting to the ambulance driver and another man with a camera.

‘Eric,’ said Molly, pointing.

‘Yeah?’ said Adam. ‘Should we tell him what really happened?’

Molly frowned to herself for a few moments. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘I thought you said you trusted him.’

‘I don’t for a minute think he was in on the still operation, but that doesn’t mean we should go blabbing everything to him. Like I said to Roddy, he’s not Jim’ll Fix It, just an old copper who happened to know my dad.’

‘But maybe he can help.’

‘Maybe we won’t need any help. If we could’ve got a hold of him last night, maybe he would’ve come and got us, but we’re rescued now, I don’t know how much help he can be. Let’s just stick to the story. We don’t want to start telling different versions to different people, we’re bound to trip ourselves up that way. Let’s just wait and see what the police have found at the still, if they’ve found anything. If me, you and Roddy stick to our story and don’t fuck it up, we won’t be implicated in anything.’

‘You really think so?’

Molly stared at him. ‘Just stay calm. Don’t start embellishing anything, just stick to the basic facts – we crashed, we found Ethan, we searched for Luke, we couldn’t find him, we lit a fire, we got found in the morning. OK?’

‘OK.’

Their boat pulled in alongside the dock and tied up, Adam and Molly thanking the crew profusely, words they waved away. Eric helped Molly then Adam out of the boat as the ambulance crew took Roddy and Ethan on stretchers into the back of their vehicle. The bloke with the camera began taking pictures of it all.

‘Not now, Dean,’ the policeman said, then turned to Molly. ‘Sounds like you’ve been through the wringer, dear.’

‘Hi, Eric,’ said Molly. ‘Yeah, quite something. Thought we’d never be found. This is Adam, by the way.’

Adam stuck his hand out, but Eric put an arm on his shoulder.

‘Let’s get you in the car,’ he said. ‘I’ll give you a lift to the hospital.’

Adam stopped. ‘Shouldn’t we go in the ambulance?’

Eric looked at him with narrow eyes. ‘You’ll be fine with me.’

They got in the back of the police car, leaving the photographer to take a couple of nonchalant snaps through the window. The ambulance pulled away and they followed. Adam noticed the lifeboat untying and heading back out to sea.

‘Where are they going?’ he said, pointing.

Eric followed his finger. ‘Back out to look for your missing friend, of course.’

‘Of course.’

‘They’ve rustled up a couple of coastguard boats to help. They’re going to sweep the whole southern coastline of the Oa.’

‘Reckon they’ll find him?’

Eric looked carefully at Adam in the rear-view mirror. ‘Better prepare yourself for the worst, son. If he’s been in that water nearly twenty-four hours, the only thing they’ll be finding is a corpse.’

They drove out of Port Ellen towards Bowmore. Adam remembered coming the other way less than two days ago, Roddy driving like a maniac, the world still full of possibilities. They passed the place where Joe had first pulled them over for speeding, and Adam felt sick at the sight of it.

‘Didn’t think you’d be working the weekend, Eric,’ said Molly.

He replied over his shoulder. ‘I don’t normally. In fact I’ve almost retired these days, but there’s been an emergency today.’

Adam looked at Molly, who gave him a silencing stare.

‘What kind of emergency?’ she said.

‘I’m not meant to say,’ said Eric. ‘But I suppose you’re connected to it.’

‘Connected? In what way?’ said Molly.

Adam looked at her. She sounded and looked calm. He couldn’t believe it was all unravelling like this already.

‘Seems they found two dead bodies first thing this morning.’

‘Bodies?’

Eric nodded. ‘In a burnt-out distillery.’

‘One of the distilleries has burnt down?’ said Molly.

‘No, an illegal still. Quite a big operation, by all accounts. Just a few miles from where you were found, actually.’

‘Really?’

‘They haven’t formally identified the bodies yet, but evidence on the scene suggests it was Joe and Grant.’

Adam could see Eric looking in the mirror for a reaction from Molly.

‘Joe and Grant?’ She sounded shocked and incredulous. ‘In an illegal still?’

Eric nodded carefully. ‘Place had burned down to the ground with them inside it.’

‘Jesus,’ said Molly.

Eric considered the pair of them in the back. ‘Quite something. I know you and Joe were all over, but I thought you should know, given that you were man and wife for years.’

‘Yeah, thanks Eric. I appreciate that. Joe and Grant, wow.’

‘Anyway, I’ve been called in as emergency cover,’ Eric said. ‘Same with young Kyle who was called out to the scene of your accident. Obviously we’re understaffed. But some big guns from the mainland are coming over on the ferry, to investigate the whole thing further. I was just told to get you to hospital, make sure you’re OK.’

‘We appreciate it, Eric, we really do,’ said Molly.

‘That’s right,’ said Adam, feeling totally redundant to the conversation, to this whole place.

They were approaching Bowmore now, swinging past the round church and down the main street, then hanging a right. The hospital was little more than a converted house with an NHS sign outside. Adam watched as the ambulance pulled up and the crew began moving Roddy inside.

Eric stopped and got out. He opened the door for Molly and helped her up.

‘You’ve been through a lot,’ he said, looking at her carefully. ‘So just take it easy. They’ll give you the once-over here, make sure you’re OK, then I’ll give you a lift back to Port Ellen.’

He turned to Adam, struggling out of the car. ‘You might want to hang around, make sure your pal is OK.’

‘Of course.’

‘Well, let’s get you inside, get you both checked out.’

Molly and Adam followed behind him, looking at each other, Adam’s stomach buzzing with nerves.

BOOK: Smokeheads
4.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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