And Thereby Hangs a Tale (17 page)

When the boat was at its highest point in
the water, Robin wondered if he dare risk it. It was not something to spend
much time thinking about. When the bow of the boat plunged into the next wave,
he leapt into the sea and with all the strength he could muster managed to grab
on to the side of the yacht.

He waited for the wave to rise again before he
pulled himself up on to what was left of the floating wreck.

With the help of the next wave he hauled himself
up on to the keel and somehow managed to smile at the two disbelieving faces.

'Take my hand!' he hollered to the girl.
After a moment's hesitation, she released her grip on the keel and clung on to
Robin's outstretched arm. For a moment he feared she might panic and push him
back into the sea.

'You'll have to jump when I give you the
signal,' screamed Robin above the noise of the wind. The girl didn't look
convinced. 'Are you ready?' he cried as the next wave headed towards them. As
the lifeboat reared into the air like a startled horse, Robin shouted, 'Now!'
and pushed her off the yacht with all the strength left in his body.

Two arms grabbed her as she landed in the water
by the side of the lifeboat and hauled her unceremoniously on board. Robin
waited for the next wave before the young man obeyed the same instruction. He
was not as lucky as his companion, and cracked his head on the gunnel before he
was finally dragged on to the boat. Robin could see blood pouring from his
forehead. He knew there was a first-aid kit in the cockpit but no one would be
able to open it, let alone administer any succour, during such a storm.

Robin felt the yacht sinking beneath him and
his thoughts switched from the young man's problems to his own survival. He
would only have one chance before the boat disappeared below the waves.

He hunched up in a ball as he waited for the
lifeboat to arch on the peak of the wave, then propelled himself towards it
like an athlete bursting out of the blocks. But it turned out to be a false
start because he missed the grab line by several feet and found himself floundering
in the sea. His last thoughts as he sank below the unforgiving waves were of Diana
and his son Harry, but then he bobbed up in a trough and a hand grabbed his
hair while another clung to a shoulder and dragged him inch by inch, wave by
wave, towards the boat. But the sea still refused to give him up, and when the
next wave hurled him against the side of the lifeboat, he felt his arm snap. As
he was dragged on to the deck he screamed, but no one heard him above the
storm. He would have thanked the coxswain, but all he could manage was to
unload a stomach full of sea-water all over him.

At least Poynton had the grace to laugh.

Robin couldn't recall much of the journey back
to port, except for the excruciating pain in his right arm and the looks of
relief on the faces of the young couple he'd rescued.

'We'll be back in time for breakfast,' said
the coxswain as they passed the lighthouse and sailed into the relative calm of
the harbour.

When the crew finally disembarked, they were
greeted by a cheering crowd.

Diana was standing on the quay, her eyes frantically
searching for her husband. Robin smiled and waved at her with the arm that wasn't
broken.

It wasn't until she read a full report in
the Jersey Echo the following day that she realized just how close she'd been
to becoming a widow. John Poynton described Robin's decision to leave the boat
to rescue the stranded couple, who undoubtedly owed their lives to him, as an
act of selfless courage in the face of overwhelming
odds. He had told Robin privately that he thought he was mad, and then shook him
by the hand. It was the wrong hand, and Robin screamed again.

All Robin had to say while he sat propped up
in a hospital bed, one arm in plaster, the other attempting to handle a spoon
and a bowl of cornflakes, was, 'I won't be able to play in the final of the
President's Cup.'

A year later, Diana gave birth to a girl
whom they christened Kate, and Robin fell in love for a second time.

Chapman's Cleaning Services continued to flourish,
not least because Robin had become such a popular member of the community, with
some of the residents now treating him as if he were a local and not a
newcomer.

The following year, he was elected a
vicepresident of the local rotary club, and when the head launcher stepped
down, the RNLI committee voted unanimously to invite Robin to take his place.
Despite these minor honours being bestowed upon him, he reminded his wife that
he was no nearer to becoming a full member of the Royal Jersey, and as his
handicap had begun to move in the wrong direction, he'd probably missed his one
chance to win the President's Cup and automatically become a life member.

'You could always join another club,' Diana suggested
innocently. 'After all, the Royal Jersey's not the only golf club on the
island.'

'If I were to join another club, the
committee would strike me off the waiting list without a second thought. No, I'm
just going to have to be patient. After all, it should only be about another
eight years before they get round to me,' he said, not attempting to hide the
sarcasm in his voice.

Diana would have laughed if the klaxon hadn't
sounded for the ninth time that year.

Robin dropped his paper and leapt up from the
table without a second thought. Diana wondered if her husband had any idea of
the anxiety she experienced every time he was away at sea. It hadn't helped
when a few weeks earlier one of the crew had been swept overboard during an abortive
rescue attempt.

Robin kissed his wife before leaving her
with the familiar parting words, 'See you when I see you, my darling.'

When he returned, four hours later, he crept
quietly into bed, not wanting to wake Diana.

She wasn't asleep.

Robin smiled after he'd read the letter a second
time. It was just a short note from the club secretary, nothing official, of
course, but he was confident that it wouldn't be too much longer before the
committee was able to ratify his membership of the RJGC. What did 'too much longer'
mean?

Robin wondered. In theory he still had
another four years to wait, and he was well aware that there were several other
names ahead of his on the waiting list. However, Diana had told him that
several members felt he should have been elected after he'd broken his arm and
been forced to withdraw from the final of the President's Cup.

Robin's spell as head launcher on the
lifeboat was coming to an end, as the job required a younger man. Diana couldn't
wait for the day when her husband would become more preoccupied with propelling
a little white ball towards a distant hole than with rescuing helpless bodies
from a merciless sea.

The following year, Robin opened a second shop
in St Brêlade, and was considering a third, on Guernsey. He felt a little
guilty because his brother Malcolm was now running four establishments on the
mainland, and contributing far more to the company's bottom line, while at the
same time keeping an eye on his two children, who were at prep school on the
mainland.

Robin was a contented man, and on his thirty-sixth
birthday he promised Diana that he would serve only one more year as head launcher,
even if he wasn't elected to the Royal Jersey. He raised his glass. To the
future,' he said.

Diana raised her glass and smiled. To the
future,' she repeated, unaware that another man on the far side of Europe had
other plans for Robin Chapman's future.

When Britain declared war on Germany on 3

September 1939, Robin's first instinct was
to return to England and sign up, especially as several younger members of his
crew had already found their way to Portsmouth and joined the Royal Navy. Diana
talked him out of the idea, convincing him that he was too old, and in any case
his expertise would be needed on Jersey.

They decided to leave the children at school
in England, and Malcolm and his wife unhesitatingly agreed to look after them
during the holidays.

When the German army goose-stepped down the
Champs-élysees nine months later, Robin knew it could only be a matter of weeks
before Hitler decided to invade the Channel Islands. Thirty thousand islanders had
been evacuated to Britain, including his own children, and German bombs had
fallen on St Helier and St Peter Port on Guernsey.

'I'll have to stay on as head launcher,'
Robin told Diana. 'With so few young men available, they'll never find a
replacement before the war is over.'

Diana reluctantly agreed to what she
imagined to be the lesser of two evils.

When Lord Trent phoned Robin at home and asked
if they could have a private meeting at the club, he assumed the old man was at
last going to confirm his membership of the Royal Jersey.

Robin arrived a few minutes early and the club
steward ushered him straight into Lord Trent's study. The look on the President's
face was not one that suggested glad tidings.

Lord Trent rose from behind his desk,
indicated that they should sit in the more comfortable leather chairs by the
fire, and poured two large brandies.

'I need to ask you a special favour, Robin,'
he said once he'd settled in his chair.

'Of course, sir,' said Robin. 'How can I
help?'

'As you know, the ferries from Weymouth and
Southampton have been requisitioned by the Government as part of the war
effort, and although I thoroughly approve this decision,
it presents me with something of a problem, as the Prime Minister has asked me
to return to England at the first possible opportunity.'

Before Robin could ask why, Trent took a telegram
from an inside pocket and handed it to him. Robin's heart missed a beat when he
saw the address: 'No.10 Downing Street, London, SW1'. Trent waited until he had
finished reading the telegram from Winston Churchill.

'The Prime Minister may well wish to see me urgently,'
said Trent, 'but he seems to have forgotten that I have no way of getting off this
island.' He took another sip of his brandy. 'I rather hoped you might feel able
to take Mary and me across to the mainland in the lifeboat.'

Robin knew that the lifeboat was never meant
to leave the harbour unless it was answering a distress call, but a direct
request from the Prime Minister surely allowed him to tear up the rule book.
Robin considered the request for some time before he responded. 'We'd have to
slip out after nightfall, then I could be back before sunrise and no one need
be any the wiser.'

'Whatever you say,' said Trent, command changing
hands.

'Would tomorrow night suit you, sir?'

The old man nodded. 'Thank you, Robin.'

Robin rose from his place. 'Then I'll see
you and Lady Trent on the quayside at nine tomorrow night, sir.' He left
without another word, his brandy untouched.

Robin was assisted by two young crew members
who also wanted to reach the mainland, as they wished to join up. He was
surprised by how uneventful the Channel crossing turned out to be. It was a
full moon that night and the sea was remarkably calm for October, although Lady
Trent proved to be a far better sailor than his lordship, who never opened his
mouth during the entire voyage except when he leaned over the side.

When the lifeboat entered Weymouth harbour,
a patrol boat escorted them to the dockside, where a Rolls-Royce was waiting to
whisk the Trents off to London. Robin shook hands with the old man for the last
time.

After a bacon sandwich and half a pint of Courage
in a dockside pub, he wished his two crew members good luck before they boarded
a train for Portsmouth, and he set off on the return voyage to Jersey. Robin checked
his watch and reckoned he should be back in time to join Diana for breakfast.

Robin slipped back into St Helier before
first light. He had just stepped on to the dock when the fist landed in his
stomach, causing him to double up in pain and collapse on to his knees. He was
about to protest when he realized that the two uniformed men who were now
pinning him to the ground were not speaking English.

He didn't waste any time protesting as they marched
him down the High Street and into the nearest police station. There was no friendly
desk sergeant on duty to greet him.

He was pushed roughly down a flight of stone
steps before being flung into a cell. He felt sick when
he saw Diana seated on a bench against the wall.

She jumped up and ran to him as the cell door
slammed behind them.

'Are they safe?' she whispered as he held
her in his arms.

'Yes,' he replied. 'But a spell in prison isn't
going to help my membership application for the Royal Jersey,' he remarked,
trying to lighten the mood. Diana didn't laugh.

They didn't have long to wait before the heavy
iron door was pulled open once again.

Two young soldiers marched in, grabbed Robin
by the elbows and dragged him back out. They led him up the stairs and out on
to an empty street. There were no locals to be seen in any direction as a
curfew had been imposed. Robin assumed that he was about to be shot, but they
continued to march him up the high street, and didn't stop until they reached
the Bailiff 's Chambers.