The Galician Parallax by James G. Skinner Read Free Book Online

You’ll see from your programme that I’m here to bore you for a couple of hours on the great world of ocean safety and other shipping niceties.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I know it may seem odd and may in some cases be totally irrelevant, but I must emphasise…’ he picked up some notes on his desk, ‘… in a small town like this, and with the number of students passing through each year, many of whom come from the interior of their respective countries, the local authorities are keen that you are all aware of the dangers of any sport or activity related to the sea.’
    Once he delivered his introductory warning, Stan swung into a personally prepared short seminar that not only covered the entire subject matter with eloquence but flowed with the ease of a professional television programme including image projection, sound and verbal commentary. He started with a short reference to the history of Cornish shipwrecks and salvages, followed with two similar presentations of his work as a coastguard. He ended the first session before the coffee break with a synopsis of modern day communication amenities that helped reduce the danger in today’s shipping world.
    ‘When you return, I’ll introduce you to a colleague who is a volunteer in the Royal National Lifeboat Institution. He’ll explain about our coastal safety codes as well as shore discipline, particularly during stormy weather.’
    As he was replacing all his papers into a briefcase, one of the students approached the desk. ‘Remember me?’
    Yolanda Mauro, her long hair tied in a bun, was dressed in a green frock that displayed small arrays of printed white flowers, held together by a tight white belt around her waist. She was wearing dark glasses. Stan just smiled, acknowledging her presence as yet another student. As he turned off his portable and his mind switched off the remnants of his lecture, the sound of her voice slowly sank in. Yolanda took off her glasses and stared at him.
    Stan purposefully wiped his eyes. ‘The Cheshire Cat; the singing and hollering Spaniard!’
    For a moment, neither uttered another word. A true, proud, young Latin she felt hurt the night Stan rudely walked away from her table at the pub without warning, yet a certain spark of attraction had been fired within her.
    Stan finally broke the silence and said half-heartedly, ‘Do I owe you an apology?’
    Yolanda ignored his remark. ‘Do you dislike Spaniards then?’
    He was caught off guard. The tone of her voice was defiant. Stan had dealt mainly with the Spanish fishermen that were either contacting his agency or were brought in by the navy for questioning suspected of breaching British maritime law. He had even taken a crash course in the language to communicate with them despite the fact that he had never been to Spain. This was the first ever contact with one of their women folk.
And a real cracker
, he thought.
    Lost for words he retorted sarcastically, ‘Ever heard of the Merchant Shipping Act?’
    Yolanda was taken aback. Her bewildered anger took over again. ‘I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!’ She began to walk away.
    Stan stepped in her path, holding up both his arms. ‘OK! You’re right.’ He slowly smiled and in broken Spanish continued, ‘Peace offering?’ This time he was honest and Yolanda picked up the message. The ice was broken.
Muros Fishing Village
    ‘What’s up,
hijo
? Why the sudden break from work?’ asked his mother as she was chopping onions and preparing the evening meal. Sergio said nothing. She paused for a second, wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to where he was sitting. He continued to stare into space.
    ‘Well?’
    He looked up at her, a mixture of sadness and anger were written across his face. He still kept silent. Ever since his father had died in a nasty car accident caused by a drunken driver when Sergio was only fourteen, his mind had been set in pursuing a career in the arms of the law. His