“With only you on board.”
“Yes.I was quite alone, and would certainly have drowned hadit not been for the courage and prompt action of that young manover there, whose name I haven’t yet had the chance to findout.”
Trewinsquinted.“Why, that’s Jem Priddy, isn’t it?Don’t I know yourdad?”
Priddyflinched in the act of handing him his coffee.If a Hawke Lake manknew Vigo, it was probably because a dodgy fix on a boat had gonewrong and landed some poor mariner in the drink.“I don’t know.Er—yes, I’m Jem Priddy.”
“Right.Jem Priddy, meet Jacques Merouac.”Trewin tapped at hisscreen.“I’ll have to verify your boat’s registration, Mr Merouac,as well as the details of your identity.I’d do it now, but thenetwork for this bloody thing seems to be down.”
Merouacnodded.“I quite understand that, sir.”
“And as for you, Priddy-boy, you might want to think twiceabout calling out the chopper when you’ve plainly got the situationin hand yourself.Just as well we don’t take the launch cost out ofyour pocket money, because it’s eight grand a throw these days,more or less.”Trewin got to his feet, took his coffee and downedit in one.“Having said all that, well done for making the rescue.Not everyone would have had a go, not on a night like this.Goodlad.”
Priddynodded: cleared his throat, choked on thin air and tried to meltinto the background.The circular room allowed no cover.Noseparate kitchen or bedroom, so unless he wanted to make a dash forthe bathroom on the half-floor below, he’d have to cope with hisreactions right here.Not easy.He’d had plenty of practice atswallowing tears of shame, but never shame’s opposite.He turnedaway and busied himself with the kettle.“Would you like anothercup?”he managed.“One for your mate in the chopper?”
“Oh, right, because I’m going to carry it down all those stairsand up the cliff to him.”Trewin put his pad away, shouldered hiskit and gave Priddy a jovial crack on the back as he headed for thedoor.“No, Dave’ll have guzzled his way through our whole flask bythe time I get back to him.Mr Merouac, you don’t seem any theworse for your dip, but you should look after yourself tonight.Doyou want me to put a call through to one of our tame B&B ladiesin Penzance, get her to put you up until you can contact yourfriends or family to bail you out?”
“You’re very kind.No, Mr Priddy here’s kindly offered to putme up for the night.”
Had he?Priddy propped himself up by the sink.He couldn’tremember.But Merouac had spoken up for him.Good lad, the flight lieutenant hadsaid.“Yes, that’s right.He can stay here.”
Trewinglanced at Priddy’s unmade bed.“What, in your bottom bunk?Ratherhim than me.”
“Oh, no,” Merouac said innocently.“Top, I think, Priddy.Don’tyou?”
Priddylost a breath.A blush tore through him, a heatwave that began inhis toes and spread like a flash-fire in summer-dried gorse.If hishair could have changed colour, he’d have turned bright ginger onthe spot.“Yes,” he croaked.“That’s the most comfortableone.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”Trewin looked from one to theother of them, eyebrows on the rise.“I don’t doubt your word, MrMerouac, but I do have to make those checks.Don’t leave the areafor a couple of days—or, if you need to, report to the Hawke Lakeadmin offices first.”
Hestamped out, leaving a trail of wet bootprints on the lino behindhim.“Shit,” Priddy whispered, closing the door behind him.“Youare very welcome to stay, mate.But what the bloody hell was allthat about the bunks?”
Merouac’s chair was empty.Priddy glanced around the roomwith its complete lack of hiding places, and saw with a faint shockthat Merouac had gone to bed.He hadn’t made a sound, and wascurled up in the bunk—the bottom one after all—as if he’d beenthere for hours.
He wasshivering.Priddy went to crouch by the side of the bed.“Are youall right?Do you want me to run after Trewin and tell him toairlift you out to hospital?”
“No, no.I’m just suddenly so tired, and—it aches, doesn’tit?”
“What does?”
“The gravity.Dragging all the time on your poor, forky littlestick-legs.I’d forgotten.”
Priddyreleased a breath, blowing his cheeks out thoughtfully.“Wow.Thatwas a good act, pretending to be sane for the nicepilot.”
“What would he have done if I’d told him the truth?Whatwillyoudo?”
“I’m not sure.Depends what it is, I suppose.Meantime I’ll fixyou some coffee and soup, if you like.”
“Ugh, no.”Merouac shuddered, curled up tighter.“What I’d likenow is the sweet clean inside of a fresh-caught herring, butthat’ll wear off soon.I’m so, so tired.”
“Well—get some kip, then.You can tell me the truth in themorning.”
Merouacwas two-thirds out already.His hand was trailing on the lino.“Inthe morning.Yes.”
“Look, are you sure there’s nothing wrong with you?”Priddypicked up the cold hand and tried to tuck it back under the sheet,then let it go, jolting back a step.“Jesus.I think there is.Your...Your fingers.”
“What’s wrong with them?”
“You’ve got some kind of skin growing between them.And—God,what is going on with your eyes?”
