North of Nowhere (9 page)

“MIA!”

It was Mom! She was on the beach with Flake. She looked furious.

“Amelia, what are you doing?” she yelled.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” I called.

“What’s wrong?” she called back, running toward the sea. “Your gran’s world has fallen apart, I’m trying to hold the place together, and you’re off joyriding on a boat with some strange boy we’ve never even laid eyes on before. What do you
think
is wrong?”

I glanced at Peter in the wheelhouse. He’d changed course and was steering us toward the jetty, closer to Mom. I didn’t know if he’d heard what she’d said, but if he had, he was doing a good job of acting as though he wasn’t offended.

“Look, we won’t be out long,” I began.

“You won’t be out at
all
!” Mom snapped. “I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking I’m entitled to have at least one nice thing this week!” I snapped back. I didn’t mean to, but — well, she wasn’t the only one trying to cope with all this.

Mom just looked at me. “None of us is
entitled
to
anything
while your grandad is missing,” she said.

We were nearly alongside the jetty now, and close enough that I could see Mom clenching her jaw and dark circles under her red eyes. She looked as if she’d aged a decade this week. That was when it hit me. It was her
dad
who had gone missing. However bad this was for me, it was fifty times worse for
her.
How could I be so selfish?

“Mom, I’m sorry,” I said. “Just give me a minute.” I opened the door to the wheelhouse. “We’ll have to forget it,” I said to Peter. “Nice idea, though.”

Peter nodded. But his jaw was set, his eyes determined. “Look, I’ll drop you off,” he said, “but I’m going to fetch Dee for you.”

“You can’t go on your own. She doesn’t even know you!”

“You’ve described her to me. I’ll tell her I’m your friend. I’ll explain everything.”

I thought about it. The idea was tempting. I was desperate to meet up with Dee, and Peter could make it happen. But I couldn’t convince my brain that it was the right thing to do. “Peter, you can’t,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Think about it. Dee has no idea who you are. She’s not likely to go off on a boat with some boy she’s never met. A boat that the boy has just stolen from her dad!”

“I’m not stealing —”

“
I
know you’re not stealing, but it would be hard to convince anyone else you weren’t. Dee’s never heard of you, her dad’s never met you, you have no link with this boat at all.”

Peter let out a heavy breath. “When you put it like that . . .”

“You know I’m right. You really can’t do it.”

He nodded. “I guess.”

“Peter, look at me.”

He looked up. “What?”

“You really can’t.”

“OK. You’re right. It’s just a shame, though.”

“Hey, you don’t need to tell
me
that.”

He steered the boat perfectly alongside the jetty and jumped off to tie the ropes around a cleat. I could see what the fisherman meant. Peter did the whole thing so quickly and so naturally it was as if he’d been doing it all his life.

He reached out to help me off the boat. “I’ll take it back around to the old jetty,” he said. “You go back with your mom.”

“Promise me you won’t go to Luffsands.”

“I promise,” he said. “See you tomorrow maybe.” And with that, he quickly pulled the ropes off the cleat and jumped aboard again. “I’ll leave the boat exactly where we found it,” he called, giving me a quick salute and a lopsided grin. “I promise.”

Mom put her arm around my shoulders as we walked back up to the beach. “I’m sorry, darling,” she said. “I didn’t mean to get so angry. It’s just — when I saw you on the boat like that, I imagined something terrible happening to you. I can’t lose you as well.”

At that, her voice cracked and I wrapped an arm around her. “You’re not losing
anyone,
” I said fiercely.

She swallowed hard and wiped a hand across her cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she said. Then she linked her arm through mine. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get back to your gran.”

Back at the pub, Gran had made us some lunch. We ate in silence for a while.

Gran was the first to break it. “We need to pull ourselves together,” she said, putting down her knife and fork and folding her arms. “We’ve got a pub to run. We’ve got lives to get on with. We need to have some faith, some belief. So I’ve decided. We’re not going to worry anymore. We’re to believe he’ll come back. Agreed?”

“OK,” I said.

“Agreed,” Mom added. I got up and stood in between them, and the three of us joined arms. Soon we were hugging and smiling and holding on to one another just long enough to let each other know that, in our hearts, we didn’t ever want to let go.

He pulled up to the jetty and moored up on the ring at the end. Slipping the key into its usual hiding place, he hauled his catch off the boat. It wasn’t easy. The swell had raged earlier, but suddenly calmed somewhere along the way. He took that as a good sign.

The size of his catch was an even better sign. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a run like this.

He’d argued with his wife and his daughter before he left home, but, oh, boy, he’d make it up to them when he got back. They’d have the finest oysters tonight. He’d buy them with the money he was about to earn at the auction.

Itching with anticipation, he carried his box around to the auction house. He marched straight up to the scales where the fishermen’s catches were weighed in.

“Morning, Charlie — how about this, then?” Frank said, smiling as he heaved his box onto the scales. But as he looked up, the smile froze on his face. “You’re not Charlie,” he said.

“Who’s Charlie?” the man at the weigh-in asked.

Frank laughed. “Who’s Charlie? He’s only worked here as long as I can remember!”

The man shrugged. “Weigh-in’s been my job the last four years.”

Frank stared at the man. Then he laughed again — only not quite so confidently this time. “Hey, it’s a joke, isn’t it?” he said.

The man stared back. “Do you want your catch weighed or not?”

Frank hesitated, mouth open. He couldn’t think of anything to say. Eventually he nodded.

The man weighed Frank’s fish and wrote a number on a piece of paper. “You’ll be in auction number three,” he said. “Starts at two. Good catch there, buddy.”

As the man turned to his next customer, Frank stumbled away from the scales. What was going on? Where was Charlie?

He looked around the auction house, searching for a friendly face who could solve his puzzle — or tell him who the practical joker at the scales was.

But he couldn’t see a friendly face. Well, no. That wasn’t strictly true. The faces were friendly enough, just not familiar. Nearly fifteen years he’d been coming here, and he knew almost all the fishermen in the area. But not today.

He didn’t recognize a single one.

Frank stumbled to the benches at the back of the auction house. He sat down, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped his forehead. It was dripping with sweat; his hands were shaking.

What was going on? Why didn’t he know anyone?

What was wrong with him?

Saturday morning I was wide-awake before Mom or Gran or any of the guests. After tossing and turning for half an hour, I got up and sneaked downstairs. Flake wagged his tail lazily when he saw me.

“Come on, let’s go out,” I said, grabbing his leash. Then I quietly opened the back door and we set off down to the harbor.

Flake ran happily up and down the beach, chasing seagulls and barking at the waves. Every now and then he’d pick up a stick and bring it to me, dropping it at my feet and wagging his tail. I threw the stick distractedly and moseyed over to the old jetty. Maybe, by some miracle, Dee would be coming today. Or there might be another note, at least. The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself it was possible. I desperately wanted it to be. Apart from anything else, I wanted the chance to reply to her last note and explain why I hadn’t replied yesterday.

I ducked down to get through the arches. The water was up to my ankles and the bottom of my jeans got soaked, as I’d forgotten to tuck them into my boots. I hardly noticed. All I cared about now was seeing the boat.

But it wasn’t there.

Well, of course it wasn’t. For one thing, it was about seven o’ clock in the morning. And for another, it was Saturday. Dee’s dad was as entitled to his weekend off as anyone else.

By the time I got back to the pub, I knew I had to shake myself out of my miserable mood. It wouldn’t be fair to Mom and Gran if I spent all weekend moping around, so I decided I was going to be helpful and cheerful instead. Well, cheerful might be a bit too much to ask, but it wouldn’t do any harm to try.

So I tidied up my room, and then I cleaned the kitchen, and by the time I’d done that and helped with the breakfasts, I’d managed to pass a couple of hours.

Part of me wanted to go down to the harbor again, just in case. But I knew it was pointless. Dee wouldn’t be coming. Distraction was definitely my best strategy.

“Mom, is there anything I can do?” I asked when I’d run out of things that obviously needed attending to. Gran was upstairs cleaning the guest rooms and Mom was in charge of the pub. There was hardly anyone in, just a couple of fishermen sitting on the tall stools at the bar.

“You could collect some glasses.”

“There aren’t any.”

“Oh. Wipe the counters?”

“Done it already,” I said.

Mom looked around the bar and shook her head. “Well, darling, I can’t really think of anything else. Haven’t you got anything to do? Why don’t you meet up with one of your new friends?”

Yeah. Sore point, Mom.

But then I had a thought. Maybe there
was
a way I could meet up with Dee, after all.

“Mom, we’re not likely to be really busy in the pub today, are we?” I asked.

Mom looked around the almost empty room and laughed. “I very much doubt it, somehow.”

“So, why don’t we see if Gran will close up for a few hours and take a trip out?”

Mom looked at me. “A trip out? All three of us?”

I nodded.

“Where would you like to go?”

I paused and tried to look as if I were having a good think. “Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe we could go on a boat trip or something.”

“I never knew you liked boats so much,” Mom said. “You must get it from your grandad.”

“Mm,” I replied.

“I suppose I did stop you from taking a boat trip yesterday, and it might be good for your gran. Anything’s got to be better than moping around here all day, waiting for something to happen.”

“Exactly!”

“So, where do you have in mind?” Mom asked.

I took a deep breath, tried to ignore the thumping, racing feeling in my chest, and said as casually as possible, “I dunno. Luffsands, maybe?”

At which point, for some reason, one of the fishermen who had been sitting in silence for the last ten minutes suddenly spurted his beer all over the bar.

“Oh!” Mom exclaimed, and ran out to get a towel.

As the door swung closed behind her, the fisherman raised his glass to me. “Good luck with that one,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. He seemed to be laughing at me.

“Think you might want to come up with another idea,” his friend added. “Somewhere that — how can I put it — actually still exists?”

Then the two of them both fell forward, laughing and slapping each other on the back.

Before I had a chance to reply, the door at the back of the bar opened and Mom came back in with a towel.

Gran was behind her. “What’s happened here?” she asked as Mom wiped up the beer.

I opened my mouth to answer, but one of the men beat me to it. “We were just talking about the power of the sea,” he said, with a wink.

Gran raised an eyebrow and looked at me. “Well, whatever it is they’ve been telling you, don’t listen to a word of it,” she said good-humoredly. “These men are the biggest storytellers I’ve ever known. They’d catch a tadpole and tell you it was a shark. Now, what can I get you?”