Winter Storms (10 page)

“No, she startled me, turning up last night, saying we needed to talk.” Daniel stared across the harbour. “There isn’t anything else to say though. It was too late for her to drive back, so I had to ask her to stay the night.”

Carly froze, staring at the sailing boats beneath them, seeing nothing.

“She slept in Ali’s old bedroom, then when she heard us talking about the gala, asked if she could help. I knew you needed someone to open it, so I brought her down. It seemed a bit mean to just send her straight back home. There’s nothing between us.” He took hold of her hand.

“It isn’t any of my business.”

“I’m not messing you around. Imo’s upset and needed comfort, but I’m not the person to do that anymore. I know she’ll find someone else who can love her, because she’s a nice girl, who didn’t deserve to end up with me.”

“You’re not that bad.”

“I can’t give her what she wants, I don’t love her. It was a relief when she walked out and if I had loved her, I never would have felt like that.”

“Why did you ask her to marry you then?” The words were out before she could bite them back.

“Because I was trying to forget my previous life: Haven Bay, the accident, you. I got caught up in a new world and Imogen became a part of it. You didn’t want to see me, so I had to move on, and marrying her seemed a good way to do that. I was wrong of course, it was a cruel thing to do.” He rested his elbows on the rail and sank his jaw onto his open palms. “Saying sorry to people is all I seem to do at the moment.”

Tentatively, she touched his slumped shoulders. He was a good person and friend who’d just made some bad decisions in life. But who hadn’t? She was certainly guilty of that, it had been wrong to refuse to see him when she was in hospital, to drive him away from his family and friends. She hadn’t known he would never come back, of course, but understanding Daniel as she did, she ought to have suspected. He’d always overreacted, and still did, if stealing the Olympic dinghy was anything to go by.

His arm went around her waist, firm and pulling her close, his head dropping to rest on hers. This time she stayed still, needing the comfort of his touch, to feel safe and loved. If only she could trust him again, but she didn’t. He’d let her down too badly before.

Gently detangling her arm, she stepped back. “I need to help with the gala. You’re right, the weather is getting worse, we need to open it early.”

He cleared his throat. “I’ll get Imogen.”

Carly watched him stride through the harbour, crowds stopping to stare at him as he went. It seemed impossible that he could love her, a girl who couldn’t walk properly, who had terrible scars. He insisted he did, but was it because he felt guilty?

“Everything all right, Carls?” Mick said, behind her.

She sighed, wrapping her coat tighter around herself and glancing up into the dark, grey sky at the flakes of snow drifting down. Everyone said she was mad to plan a Winter Gala and today she was starting to suspect they’d been right.

“Don’t worry about the weather, everything’s going great. Bob’s taken over as Santa for a couple of hours, we’ve been so busy I’ve almost lost my voice.”

She smiled, it was great the children were enjoying themselves, but Santa’s Grotto had been priced at a two pounds entry fee, including a present, so no one got left out. It wasn’t going to pay for a lifeboat that could save the lives of those children’s fathers as they worked on the fishing trawlers.

It was the entrance fees to the boat races she was relying on most, people had clubbed together to enter a craft and a sailor, in hope of winning a decent prize. Once they got the gala open and dinghies racing, people would forget the snow, hopefully anyway.

Sighing, she heard rapid footsteps behind her, and looked back. Liam was racing toward her, his jaw clenched and fists balled. What on earth had happened?

“Liam?” she said. “Are you all right?”

“No. They’re refusing to sail,” he said. “Every last one of them, they want a bigger prize pot.”

“What?” she said.

“They’re saying the conditions are too bad, that they’re risking their boats for pittance.” Mick kicked the rail. “Cowards! I go out in far worse weather than this to save their arses, they could at least give me a decent boat to protect my crew.”

“Everyone is saying this?” She looked at Liam.

“Except the little kids, they just want to know when they can start. Brave lot, more courage than the adults.”

“Or less mercenary. I don’t understand why this is an issue now? The money’s been the same all along, they
agreed
to do this.”

“A couple of them muttered about new information, I reckon some one’s been telling them that you’ve got a lot more money then you’re letting on.”

“I only wish I had.” She glanced back over the rail at the boats. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t increase the prize money even if she wanted to, which she didn’t. Because she wasn’t being blackmailed. But without the entry money, they’d make a loss and she’d be thrown off the committee. Mick wouldn’t only not get his new boat, but it was possible the whole station would be cancelled in favour of a fast craft from Padstow, and she knew from bitter experience that lives would be lost if they tried that.

She squinted across the harbour at the purple gathering clouds. It was snowing, granted, but little more than a dusting on the pavements. “The conditions are fine. I know sailing, Liam, it’s a good wind. The boats aren’t at risk.”

“I know that too, but they’ve banded together and I can’t persuade them.”

“They might need that lifeboat one day, how could they be so selfish? Look, I’ll go and talk to them, if they back out now the whole gala will be a disaster, we promised people sailing races.”

“What the problem?” Daniel said.

Carly whirled around, he stood behind her, beside Imogen who with refreshed hair and makeup, looked even more stunning. But she had bigger concerns now then Imogen.

She left Mick to explain while she glared across the rail at the sailing club. How dare they? And to leave it until the day of the gala as well, someone must have planned this. She’d been out of the sailing world for a couple of years, but surely they ought feel a degree of willingness to help her out? Or at least, not to punch her when her back was turned.

“I’ll speak to them,” Daniel said.

Carly shook her head, this was her fight and she’d make them damn well aware that she wasn’t putting up with such behaviour. He put his hand on her arm and squeezed.

“Let me, you’re angry and it’ll make them worse. I know these people, I race against them.”

“The gala is my concern.”

“But not yours alone, it can’t be; it involves everyone in the community and you’ve done enough. Let me sort this out.”

“Because it’s sailing, and I’m not a sailor anymore?”

“That was a choice you made.”

“I chose to develop a phobia?”

He held his hands out. “This isn’t the time, we’ve got to get those boats in the water.”

“Carly, he’s right,” Mick said. “They’re more likely to listen to him. Look, we need to know how much the stalls are bringing in, take a notebook and get some up-to-date values for us. Then we can work out if we have enough money to increase the prize fund if need be. We brought people here with the promise of a winter sailing tournament and they must have something to watch.”

“I don’t want to give them any more money, there isn’t any risk. The weather is fine,” she said.

“But it won’t be if we delay any further, the clouds are gathering fast,” Daniel said, shielding his eyes to peer at the horizon. “Whatever we do, it has to be done quickly.”

She glanced across the harbour, he was right. “All right, you speak to them, but they’re not having any more money.”

“I’ll take you down,” Mick said. “And show Imogen where to stand for the opening.”

Carly watched them stride off. She’d spent ages planning this gala and it was embarrassing that Daniel had to keep rescuing it. She didn’t like looking incompetent. Sighing, she looked at the stalls; as long as the lifeboat station got the money, did it matter who helped to raise it? Daniel was connected to the teams anyway, he volunteered in Padstow. Staring out at the ocean, green with choppy waves, she shivered at the thought of him out there in the tiny lifeboat, it was a dangerous job that required strong nerves.

Turning her head away from the sea, she felt in her pocket for her small notebook and pencil. They didn’t need her help with the sailing boats anymore, but she knew how to sell goods, and some of the stalls hadn’t set their stock up very well. Look at the Bainbridges on the angling stall — fishing rods at the back so no one could examine them and a large jar of maggots on the counter. True, the creatures would sell, but it might put off the tourists, especially so close to the sweet stand.

She’d have to be polite though, the Bainbridges were keen supporters of the fundraising — with both father and son volunteering at the station, they had a vested interest in getting the new, safer, lifeboat. Wrapping her coat closer to her shoulders, she stepped slowly across the icy cobbles and smiled at them, glancing down at the maggots.

“How it’s going?” she said.

“Trade is slow,” Ian Bainbridge said, leaning on the counter. “I thought we’d do better than this, the sweet stall has queues outside.”

She glanced over, with its hanging bags of pink cotton candy and the rich, sweet smell of hot chocolate from the small machine in the back; it was a far more attractive place to visit then the fishing stall. This was a seaside town though, and anglers would be around. It was just a matter of pointing them in the right direction.

“You’re a bit hidden here,” she said. “And dark; the stalls have power, could you get some lighting from the fishing shop?”

“I could pop back, Dad,” Luke Bainbridge said. Bright eyed and smiling, he leant his elbows on the counter. “We’ve got to do something, letting the side down today.”

“Is there anywhere else that jar of maggots could go?” she said.

Ian frowned. “Best sellers those.”

“Yes, but a sign would be sufficient, in fact it would work even better because you could make it larger.” She glanced at the pot. “I grew up fishing, and that squirming thing is creeping even me out.”

Luke laughed. “You’re right, it is a bit gross. I’ll stick it in the back and put up a sign instead, all the locals know we sell them anyway.”

“Bring some of those coloured floats and silk flies near to the front, maybe even hang some bits outside so people can see what you’re selling here.”

“I suppose we’re used to our usual customers,” Ian said. “They know what we stock and aren’t too fussed about the presentation.”

“It’s a different market here, you want to get the tourists, who might be tempted to head home with a new fishing rod for summer. If it gets hard to shift stuff, you could also drop the prices a little and put up a large notice advertising a winter sale.”

“ All right, Carly, we’ll set to work; have to do our bit to get that lifeboat.”

She nodded, glancing at the young face of Luke Bainbridge. His mother must have sleepless nights when both her husband and son were out on the same rescue.

“Good luck,” she said. “Let me know if I can help at all.”

“We could drape some of your expensive scarves over the rods, light a few candles,” Luke said, grinning.

“I’m not sure you’ll attract the right type of customer,” she said, smiling back. “But borrow anything you like from my stall, Liam’s in charge of it for the day.”

“Not Linda?”

“She’s watching my shop.”

“So you’re not going to shut down for the day?” Ian said. “Hard business woman you are, Carly.”

“I have rent to pay, as well as lifeboats to raise money for, though since a large amount of my stock is here I doubt Linda will sell much!”

Grabbing her stick, she gave a last wave and strode over to the hot chestnut stand, run by Phil and Tony, also of the lifeboat station. Certainly all the crew were doing their best to bring in funds; she couldn’t have organised this day without the assistance they’d given her.

“How are you doing?” she said, heading around the front of the queue.

Tony turned around from the chestnuts, his muscles swelling the arms of his thin top, and grinned. “Hello Carls, here to check we’re not slacking?”

“Aren’t you cold?” she said.

“Not at all, warm as toast here by the cooker. Want some chestnuts?”

“I’ll have a bag.” She watched him scoop them up and taking them, hugged them tight to her chest. The freezing weather seeped even through her coat and glancing toward the harbour, she frowned.

“It’s going to get a bit blowy later,” Tony said, following her gaze. “Are you going to be able to get the sailing races over before those clouds settle in?”

She nodded, not wanting to depress them with the news that there might not be a sailing race. Damn Duncan, she was sure he was involved in all this. She knew her fellow sailors, they’d all been enthusiastic when she made the arrangements. Someone had been working on them and there was only one person she knew who was so set against the lifeboat station that he would bother to do this. Duncan wasn’t even from Haven Bay and certainly had no connections with either the sailors or fishermen, whose lives depended on the station. Shivering, she hugged the chestnut bag closer. What else was Duncan planning? Exactly how far would he go to ensure the Bay lost its lifeboat station?

“We’ve moved the times of the races forward,” she said.

“That’s good, we don’t want to start the day with a demonstration of how the lifeboats really work. Although.” He grinned. “It might help raise a bit more money; will we have enough after today?”

“Sadly not, we’ll have about half, so it’ll be a while longer before we get the boat, another year of fundraising I expect. We can use the Summer Gala too to bring some money in.”

His smile faded and he looked at the high ocean waves crashing beyond the harbour. She knew what he was thinking, what all the lifeboat crew were thinking. Would their current boat last that long? If it got damaged in a rescue, or the old engine simply gave up, then the town could be left without a lifeboat during the vicious storms of winter. She never would have survived if a keen eyed walker on the cliff top hadn’t spotted her in the water, held up by Daniel, and summoned the coast guard to save her. The least she could do in return was to ensure the brave crew who set out to perform such daring rescues had the safest and most up to date craft.