Chapter Nineteen
Enid had sealed Aleksey’s decision to take everyone to the island by predictably declaring she didn’t need anything special at all. Although she’d quietly murmured to DS Mailer that a bed would be nice. And some strategic handles here and there. It was tricky, delivering things to Light Island, given his obsession with keeping the place secret. But Aleksey had never really understood the elites’ concept of bolt holes. If he were a chauffeur, pilot, cleaner, bodyguard, or assistant of any kind to one of these globalists, come the apocalypse he’d be sitting smugly in their retreat with all the food, and the wealthy bastard who’d employed him would be six feet under. That was just life—the pecking order, as Emilia might term it. He felt the intense need to keep knowledge of his island to as few trusted people as possible. So the moron and Sunshine had to organise getting Enid’s new bed and her few other essentials there themselves.
The only other problem to sort was the actual logistics of travel. They couldn’t all go together. Even though he’d given Sarah a few weeks off, and she was not therefore coming with them, there were still eleven of them, and even if two of them were only dogs, they all still needed space.
Tim solved the dilemma a little by saying that he’d delay by a day or so and travel later by himself. He was letting his mum and dad have his new house for a fortnight, and wanted to be there to settle them in. He would fly down to St Mary’s and someone could sail over and pick him up whenever. No hurry. He’d stay in the Castle Hotel and explore some of the interesting sites he hadn’t yet visited.
Ben had his solo check—an instructor-observed solo take off and landing—scheduled the day Aleksey had planned for them all to leave, and he didn’t want to reschedule it, so that, again, made it easier. Aleksey decided he and Ben would travel down together one day after the main family.
That left Squeezy, Emilia, and Babushka to get Enid and the two children plus dogs safely to St Mary’s on the ferry. From there, they’d hire a nice stable motor cruiser and potter over to the island. One night, and they’d all be together.
However, these eight were still too many for one car. Babushka could drive, but didn’t technically have a licence, and couldn’t read any road signs. Emilia had her licence, newly acquired at school, but she was only eighteen, so no. Enid was long past being able to drive anywhere, and her little Morris Minor had consequently been sold.
Finally, they decided to take a leisurely first class train trip down to Penzance and there catch the ferry to St Mary’s. Enid appeared almost as excited about this as she did about everything else to do with the holiday. Along with sailing with her parents as a child, she had apparently often been taken on long train journeys to Greece or Italy to imbibe the culture.
It was lovely having a garden room to sit in and watch birds, but it hardly compared to trains, ferries, motor cruisers and secret islands. Or red squirrels.
Aleksey was not entirely sanguine about all these arrangements, but when he felt anxiety overcome him, he remembered a certain Russian grandmother in Siberia. She didn’t speak much English still, but if push came to shove, he’d put Ulyana Ivanovna up against anything the world could throw at her. She cared for Molly equally with Sarah, so was well able to cope with her for one night without them. He refused to admit the obvious (because it undeniably reflected badly on him and Ben), that Babushka was actually far more qualified to look after Molly than either of them, as she had enjoyed almost fulltime care of her for nearly four years, whilst they had only put up with the occasional night when it suited them.
He also decided not to put voice to the other reason why he allowed the arrangements to be as they were: the moron. It occurred to him, pondering all these things one night as he stared up at the stars, head on folded arms in the warm hollow of the bed where he’d been recently drained to a very satisfactory languid emptiness, that if he genuinely thought Ben’s annoying friend was a cretin, then he wouldn’t have him as his right-hand man. His most trusted…acquisition. Possession? He smirked as he pictured Michael Heathcote hearing himself so termed. But it was true. Aleksey saw something in the annoying one, always had, that was as much reflection as it was anything else. They were two sides of the same coin. Flip it, and it didn’t really matter which side it landed on: either would get the job done. Outwardly being entirely opposite in personality to him—noisy to his silences, idiotic to his intelligence, lazy to his industry, or industrious to his indolence, anyway, just opposite— meant that the moron could occasionally achieve things Aleksey found more challenging.
Whereas he and Enid interacted with mutually agreed distant gentility, Squeezy had a way with her that entirely overcame her reticence to be any trouble whatsoever to anyone. Her natural politeness would have her pass off a leg severed in a chainsaw accident as a bit of stuff and nonsense, but Squeezy ignored all her protests, and just lifted, carried, placed and tucked her, as if he’d been doing such things all his life. He curbed the swearing in her presence, but did this in a way that made it very clear it was a Herculean effort he didn’t do for anyone else, a courteous gesture which then produced an almost girlish flirtatious gleam of mischief in her eyes.
So for all these reasons, Aleksey allowed the arrangements to stay as they were. Flip the coin. All would be well.
He, Ben and Tim, therefore, took the travellers to Exeter train station in two cars with minimal luggage, and promised to bring the remainder of it with them the following day. Miles had hisBig Book of British Seabirdsunder one arm for study on the train. Molly had her unicorn case full of mysterious necessitates no one was apparently allowed to see or enquire about. Enid was so busy looking at everything that she barely seemed to notice the propping and bundling going on to get her upright next to the window. Emilia had drawing materials and a small palette of watercolours, as she planned to keep a pictorial journal of the holiday and wanted to start with the train journey through Cornwall. Babushka produced her knitting bag and, once she’d counted her stitches, began working through a little bag of boiled sweets.
When Ben saw this through the carriage window, he nudged him and laughed softly. Aleksey couldn’t decide whether he found this little tableau amusing or not. He was thinking this through when he saw Emilia’s expression. Her brow was scrunched dubiously at the memories apparently sparked by these simple acts.
The train pulled away.
Radulf was tall enough to stare out of the window whilst still just sitting on the floor. He appeared to be having one of his wheezing fits. Whether the family were about to be treated to vomit or snot, Aleksey couldn’t tell. He thought the old boy might just be sniggering at the absurdity of this entire holiday plan.
As if to reinforce this premonition of doom, he could not believe how tiny Molly seemed in his final glimpse of her. The miniature sandals didn’t even reach the edge of her seat. She waved and then the journey swallowed her.
Tim was heading straight to Bristol to collect his parents, who didn’t own a car. As they were walking back to the car park, he announced cheerfully, ‘I suggested Babushka and Emmy might like to stay on St Mary’s tonight, watch the races, and then Michael can pick them up with you two tomorrow. Babushka would love the castle.’
Aleksey was checking his phone to see if he had a response from Peyton yet and replied somewhat distracted, ‘What races?’
‘The world pilot gig championship? It’s on this weekend. The one Madeline was telling us all about at the party? Oh, no, maybe you didn’t hear her; you were chatting to Rachel all night. Ben, did you? She’s in the Exeter University team. There’ll be gigs from all round the world competing, so I don’t think they’ve got much of a chance of actually winning anything. Still, quite a sight to see.’
Aleksey had stopped in the middle of the road. A car honked but he ignored it. What had her husband said? She will be outstanding? No, she will…stand out. He glanced over at Ben. Ben was tossing the keys from hand to hand and didn’t seem concerned about his friend’s suggestion.
Baader-Meinhof: bizarre coincidences, again and again, in an ever tightening spiral.
And now Scilly had now been drawn into a pattern which he was, as yet, unable to discern.
* * *
Chapter Twenty
They drove home. Ben was nervous about his solo check the next morning and wanted to study. Aleksey was just nervous, but had no rational justification for this feeling. He wandered over to the cottages, just to check on things, although there was no need. Riff Raff was on duty, and they had a brief chat, mainly about plans for The Keep. Apparently, they’d decided between them, him and the lads, that it was now to have a bar, a billiards and darts room, possibly a cinema, and, if he could swing it, boss, an indoor swimming pool. Aleksey said he’d see what he could do.
Enid’s cottage was safely secured. The old codger would be coming daily to water her flowers. He’d also promised Miles to put food out for the birds and the squirrels. Aleksey watched a very young one negotiating the rope and hopping over to the platform with no effort at all. The plywood was all still damp from the excessive rain they’d had the last few days, and Molly had apparently been unable to add her patriotic touches to the plain boards.
Babushka’s cottage was equally secure.
He could find nothing to actually cause his sense of unease, however hard he tried.
