Deep Water by Tim Jeal Read Free Book Online Page B

sprouted a flag pole. This being the sailing club, Andrea had imagined flags being flown and cannons fired as races started – until she spotted a notice: RACING SUSPENDED FOR THE DURATION OF HOSTILITIES.
    The place seemed deserted until a pale thin man drifted up from the slipway. He was the club’s ‘Hon. Secretary’, and, when questioned, explained that the person who sometimes gave sailing lessons had joined the navy. He could show her the boats the club hired out. These small craft were kept in an enclosure with others, many upside down or tilted on their sides.
    Her guide paused beside a rain-filled dinghy. ‘She’s nice and stable. Beamy, you see.’ Andrea thought the boat looked very small. ‘They’ll need to be on their toes. April’s always windy.’
    ‘The boat might overturn?’
    ‘The air in the foredeck locker will keep her afloat, if she does.’
    ‘If they remember to close the locker door.’
    ‘Very true,’ he laughed. ‘I’ll help them put the sails up, first time out. Oars and sails have to be locked up afterwards.’ Andrea looked puzzled. ‘In case the invader comes,’ he explained, starting to cough. ‘Gas,’ he gasped, ‘in the last one.’
    A gust of wind set the halyards of the boats slapping frenetically against their masts. On the far bank, a heron raised a lazy wing to the squall and let itself be lifted upwards.
    *
    Entering the house, Andrea imagined Leo and Justin applauding her good news. The only voice that greeted her was Peter’s.
    ‘The boys are out.’
    Andrea was surprised to see him on a sofa with both feet on the ground. ‘Why aren’t you resting your leg?’
    ‘They rang from the dockyard.’ Peter’s voice was theatrically doom laden. ‘The wave tests have thrown up a new problem.’
    ‘They want you down there, don’t they?’
    ‘If I’d ever thought this might happen, I wouldn’t have promised you anything. You understand that, don’t you, Andrea?’
    ‘Did you tell them you can’t walk?’ She found it hard to keep her voice steady.
    ‘They’ve got wheelchairs down there.’
    ‘And morphine shots?’ She moved closer. ‘Why should you go? They don’t give a damn about your health.’
    ‘I’ll be fine.’
    ‘When are you leaving?’
    ‘About an hour.’
    ‘Jesus! That’s really considerate of them.’
    ‘It’s pretty urgent, Andrea.’
    ‘If I had to choose between a successful commando raid and you not wrecking your leg, I’d save your leg for sure.’
    He said gently, ‘There’s a whole team of people waiting for me down there.’
    ‘How long will they need you?’
    ‘As long as it takes to find a way to stop lorries swinging when it’s rough.’
    ‘I really thought it would be different this time.’
    ‘Me too.’ Peter was looking at her with sincere regret.
    She touched his hand for a moment. ‘You have to do it, Peter.’
    ‘At least I’ll be coming home alive.’
    Through the window behind Peter’s head, Andrea saw a strange looking girl enter the garden. She had long frizzy hair and stood rubbing one foot against the other, as if too nervous to approach any further. In one hand she held a small cardboard suitcase. It took Andrea several seconds to relate this untidy person to the woman in the spotless cottage. But who else could the girl be but her daughter. Andrea hurried from the room in order to keep to herself the existence of this new arrival until Peter had departed.
    *
    Several minutes after Peter’s shiny faced Wren driver had helped him into the car, Andrea headed for the kitchen, meaning to tell Rose that she could leave the room now. But just then the telephone rang.
    ‘Is that Mrs Pauling?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Sally Lowther here. I was wondering if you were at a loose end?’
    ‘Ends don’t come looser.’
    ‘Want to go somewhere jolly?’
    ‘I have to stay home with my son and his friend.’
    ‘Your husband won’t be out, surely?’
    Before realising it, Andrea had made up her mind.‘He is