‘Run like the wind, Emmy. Go the headland and keep watch towards St Mary’s. If you see a boat coming, fly back as fast as you can and warn us.’
She was off, just like that, no questions, no hesitation, and as he watched her red hair vanishing into the wind-whipped darkness beneath the trees through the open door, he was reminded of another forest and another time:they’re killing Ben. It was not a reassuring recollection. Miles apparently thought this task was much more interesting than the drowned woman, so trailed out after her.
Squeezy had by now come into the large room. ‘What the f—heck, boss? You look like you’ve been shot!’
Aleksey grabbed his arm. ‘I don’t have time to explain. You need to—Where’s Harry?’ He hobbled back to the door. Harry was standing patiently outside, staring up at the lintel, chatting with Miles. ‘Guillemot. Interesting birds. Only come to land to nest. Spend their whole life at sea. Tales to tell there, I shouldn’t wonder, laddie, grand tales of great adventure and courage.’
‘Did you know that guillemots are the only birds that actually leave the nestbeforethey can fly?’
Harry glanced down at his young inquisitor. ‘Aye, I did know that, son. They parachute, in a way, using the air trapped in their down. Quite safe—good analogy for taking a bit of risk in life, don’t you think?’
Miles seemed delighted to be asked such a question, but a little puzzled how to reply. Metaphors weren’t his strong point.
Squeezy, who had come out with Rachel hissed, ‘What’s that old fool doing here? What the hell is going on, boss?’
‘Hello, son. Could you possibly check on Snodgrass for me? His manners need improving. Can’t come in. Little bit of the old wobblies again.’
Before Squeezy could reply, Ben emerged from the house with Molly still in his arms, her face pressed tightly into his shoulder. ‘She hasn’t stolen anything, Nik. I told you she wouldn’t.’
Aleksey closed his eyes in relief. Then a mumbled little voice corrected, ‘It wasmine.’
Ben went very still. Aleksey felt an icy trickle prick down his spine once more. Squeezy repeated, ‘What. Is. Going. On!’
Aleksey pried Molly from Ben and held her up in front of him. Her eyes widened, but just before she could either burst into tears or scream at the state of his face, he asked calmly, ‘Would you like to be my nurse,Moye Solnyshko?Come, do you have some of your precious plasters? You can do a much better job than your father has, I’m sure.’
Now appointed to position of chief nurse, Molly was more than happy to return to the house, and skipped off to fetch her important supplies.
Aleksey followed her in and sank onto a window seat, glancing at Ben who had trailed after him. ‘Tell the moron what’s happening and make sure he doesn’t do something fatal to the old man.’
‘She hasn’t taken anything.’ Slightly truculently, Ben returned back outside.
Molly trundled in her unicorn, chatting to him about how he was now being an ambulance and that they had a very difficult patient to treat. She knelt and opened him up and produced a box of plasters with cartoon pictures of animals on. ‘You can have monkey or giraffe or alligator, but not doggy, because I’m saving that one for Raddybum if he needs one.’
‘Giraffe then.’
She began to peel his chosen one. Aleksey manoeuvred himself down to the floor, thinking he’d need an ambulance to get back up again, and surreptitiously toed opened the case more fully.
There was a spray can in there. It was bright blue andStar of the Seahad been stencilled in white on the side.
‘That’s my because paint. For the squirrels.’
‘Ah. Blue, yes. Star of the Sea.’
‘It was mine, Papa, and that mean man had it.I’mStar of the Sea, you said so.’
‘Yes. I did. It’s the name of a boat, too. Molly, have you used the paint? Did you…spray it on anything?’
She gave him a pitiful look and burst into tears.
He’d thought she say something else.
He’d thought she’d sayno,of course notand that this would not be the end of everything. He swallowed deeply and closed his eyes.
‘I couldn’t get the top off, Papa. Will you open it for me?’ He felt the cool press of the metallic can in his palm. He opened his eyes. It seemed the world was still continuing.
He held the smooth, almost weightless cylinder in his hand. It had a protective top which levered off, rather like a reusable water bottle in a fancy restaurant, and under that a spray nozzle. They’d branded it to the team’s boat’s name so it would blend in, lie lethal in plain sight. It felt like nothing, so entirely innocent. He stroked a finger down it and murmured, ‘I am become death.’
‘You’re just being silly.’
