Brett pulled his lips tight and shook his head. ‘But that doesn’t mean anything. I often call him in the middle of the night, and he’s never not answered before.’
Morgan felt the beginning of her own internal storm begin to brew. Her emotions were all over the place. She flung the covers back and swung her legs out of bed. ‘I’m coming to listen for myself.’ Grabbing her dressing gown, she slipped her feet into her slippers and followed Brett into the sitting room.
Brett and Morgan stood next to the radio, listening intently. The sentence that made her breath get stuck in her throat was, ‘The rescue launch will commence soon.’
Morgan grabbed Brett’s arm; her eyes wide with alarm as she looked at him. ‘We need to go and watch. Give them some moral support.’
Brett nodded. ‘Yes, you’re right. I’ll wait for you to get dressed.’
Morgan shook her head. ‘There’s no time for that. Just grab our coats, Brett. I’ll meet you at the bottom of the stairs.’
THE WIND WAS VICIOUSas it tugged at their coats. Morgan and Brett had their arms locked as they battled against it, making their way to the seafront.
They saw bedroom lights blazing in many houses they passed, and watched in astonishment as residents came out of their front doors and put their heads down to battle against the wind as they also headed in the direction of the seafront.
‘I think we aren’t the only ones out to support the coastguard crew’s launch,’ shouted Morgan above the wind.
Brett pulled her closer when a gust almost ripped her off his arm.
As the lifeboat launch slope came into view, Morgan breathed a sigh of relief, she didn’t know if she had the strength to walk much further. She was amazed to see there was already a substantial crowd gathering around it. She could see figures dressed in lifejackets busying themselves on and around the lifeboat, and instantly knew it was the crew by their attire.
‘They’re almost ready to launch,’ said Brett.
Morgan’s heart felt as if it was palpitating. They joined the other residents and each of the residents turned around and welcomed them with strained smiles and worried eyes.
Morgan went from face to face of the lifeboat rescuers, searching for Ned, and was so utterly relieved when she couldn’t see him. The lifeboat crew were focused on what they were doing, faces sombre but determined, and Morgan silently commended them.
Then bile rose in her throat when a familiar face came out of the small lifeboat rescue building dressed in a helmet and lifejacket like the other crew members.
She tapped the shoulder of one of the residents who she knew was related to a rescue crew member. ‘Why is Ned there, love?’
The woman’s face was stricken with worry, her brow lined and her eyes watery, but she offered Morgan a smile, nonetheless. ‘They are so short-staffed, they needed as many hands-on deck as they could muster. I think there’s two men joining them tonight who were the last to retire from the job.’ Morgan nodded and smiled her thanks, her throat too tight to answer.
Brett’s arm lifted onto Morgan’s shoulders, pulling her closer to him. ‘Don’t worry love. They are all professionals. Ned might not have done the job for a few years, but he won’t have forgotten a thing. He has a lifetime of experience.’
Morgan still couldn’t answer because the lump forming in her throat prevented her. She just nodded at her brother-in-law.
Moments later, they watched as all the rescue crew climbed aboard the boat. The woman who had answered Morgan’s question shouted out, her voice trembling and just about audible above the howl of the wind. ‘God speed. Find the Blue Moon and please come back to us safely!’
The crowd clapped and cheered as the lifeboat launched down the slope, splashing into the choppy sea, before speeding off into the black of the night. The crowd watched in silence until the lights of the boat could no longer be seen.
Morgan shivered, glad of the body heat from Brett’s arm around her shoulders. ‘Come on love. There's nothing we can do now except pray. Let's get back in the warm before we perish.’
BACK IN THE LIVINGquarters above the pub, Morgan sent Brett to bed after he showed signs of forgetting the evening’s events, a condition of his dementia, most likely heightened by lack of sleep and anxiety.
However, Morgan couldn’t sleep. She paced the sitting room listening to the local news channel, waiting for an update, periodically going over to the window which gave her the best vantage point of the sea where the lifeboat would have to pass to get back to the launch slope, hoping to see a sign of them.
Her body was aching, her head pounding. It had already been a long night. Finally relenting. She sunk into an armchair and pulled off the fleecy blanket draped over the back of it, placing it over her legs. She felt helpless. All she could do was listen to the broadcast and pray.
Clasping her hands together and squeezing her eyes tight she took a deep breath and spoke from the heart.
‘Dear Lord. Please keep the Blue Moon afloat if it runs into difficulties. Guide the coastal rescue boat towards them. Shine moonlight to light the way if you must, but let them be found. Then please keepallthe coastal rescue crew safe as they save the Blue Moon’s crew members. They are all such wonderful men and deserve to come home safely to their loving families. Thank you. Amen.’
Did Ned have family? He hadn’t mentioned anyone last night in the pub when they were both divulging things to each other they wouldn’t normally talk about. Morgan gaged her feelings. She was sick with worry about all out there in the storm. All the crew members on the Blue Moon and the lifeboat, but she was especially worried about Ned.
They’d been amicable friends for years, but this past week they’d become closer than ever before. Was there, orcould therebe room in her heart for anything more than a friendship? Guilt ran along her spine, sending goosebumps to raise across her skin for even entertaining such a thought.
She thought about her recent dreams. Bren had given her permission to love again in her dream, but was it really him? Or was it just her subconscious finding a way to say it was okay tomove on? Some widows moved on after just a couple of years. Surely three decades was long enough to be respectful of her late husband.
