The typewriter, which weighed, in Cass’s opinion,an absolute ton, was transported to Delphine’s cabin very early the next morning. No one else was up. Cass, hurrying along behind Bastian with the pages of longhand notes, realised that even if Bastian was used to a manual typewriter it would be much harder work than using a computer. Not only did depressing the keys require much more effort, but any mistakes would have to be rubbed out with a special eraser.
‘I hope your final section isn’t too long,’ she said as Bastian finally dumped the typewriter on a table next to the desk Cass had been using for the illustrations. ‘A picture paints a thousand words and all that.’
‘Luckily there is a maximum word count – a generous one but there is a limit! The book, when I write it, will be longer. We’ll need another chair, if we’re both working in here at the same time,’ he said.
‘This one is fine with a few cushions on it and I know Delphine will produce another if we ask.’ She paused. ‘I just thought, how will we keep a copy of your work? What did your father do?’
‘He used carbon paper. I haven’t got any, sadly.’ He glanced at Cass. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve ever used carbon paper? You put a sheet in between two plain pieces in the typewriter and you get a copy? You can put several bits of carbon paper in. It worked well.’
Cass shook her head. ‘I suppose my generation has become totally dependent on computers.’
‘Not only your generation! We do have power cuts from time to time so we’re better prepared, but frankly, if I couldn’t use my computer I’d just wait until I could. If the matter wasn’t urgent, of course.’
‘But it’s urgent now,’ said Cass. ‘I just hope Austin can be stopped from sticking his nose in.’
Bastian nodded. ‘He knows you’re doing something for me, which is why he’s so determined to get you away from here.’
Cass nodded. ‘Well, we’d better get on! Having got up before the birds, I don’t want to waste my time. I have lots more drawings to do.’
‘I should have taken more photos as I went along, and now, with no internet, it’s too late.’ He smiled. ‘The hurricane has a lot to answer for.’
‘It certainly does!’ Cass agreed.
‘Did Ranulph notice you leaving, do you think?’
Cass shook her head. ‘I told him I liked sleeping on the veranda. And I do. He won’t notice we’re missing until breakfast.’
Delphine produced the second chair and soon both Bastian and Cass were working. Cass soon took her table out on to the veranda as it was hard to concentrate with the bang bang – pause – bang of Bastian’s typing going on in the background.
She found the thought of there being only one copy of the final section terrifying, but she knew Bastian wouldn’t have time to type it twice. She resolved to make a copy herself if she had time. She knew Bastian would protest, but she’d be doing it for her own peace of mind.
Partly because she felt she couldn’t disappear all day without being noticed, Cass went back to Bastian’s house for lunch. Everyone was used to Bastian being out and about, but she was different.
She was tired. She hadn’t realised quite how exhausting listening to someone using an old-fashioned typewriter would be. She really wished Bastian had let her do it, but he had refused, and this way she could focus entirely on the drawings. Too late, Cass realised that she and Bastian should have staggered the times they used the cabin.
‘So what have you two been up to?’ asked Austin, the moment she arrived on the veranda. He was already on the rum.
Cass had had the walk back from Delphine’s to think of an answer. ‘I’ve been sanding down some planks. I need a quick shower before lunch. I’m covered in dust.’
She ducked into the shower before anyone could spot this wasn’t true.
When she joined the lunch table she noticed that Bastian wasn’t there, Ranulph was looking very serious and possibly grumpy and Austin was, as usual, bumptious and smug.
‘I nearly forgot to tell you, Cass,’ Austin said. ‘Someone called Howard is trying to get in touch with you on the radio.’
‘Howard? He’s my dad!’
Cass was suddenly overwhelmed with homesickness. She longed to be in the comfortable Scottish house with electricity and hot water, and all the things she had got used to not having here. She also wanted a more simple life where there were no secrets, no underhand dealings, no tricky personalities to handle.
‘When can I speak to him? Could we call him back?’ she asked.
Austin shook his head. ‘It’s not as simple as that. He must have been contacting me in the early hours. There’s a time difference, you know.’
Cass took a moment before replying. ‘I know there’s a time difference, but he spoke to you, so it must be possible.’
‘He was lucky to get me. I won’t be there next time,’ said Austin.
‘But Cass is anxious to speak to her father,’ said Ranulph. ‘Can’t we work out the best time to be waiting for his call?’
