Offshore (45 page)

Lydia
put a finger to Cameron’s lips and hushed him. “Let it go, Duncan.
Trust me on this, you really don’t want to know.”

And then
she kissed his cheek.

Eddie
averted his eyes, not wanting to witness the show of affection.
Brewer had got it wrong. Her feelings weren’t for him, they were
all for Duncan Cameron.

Lucky
bastard.

Chapter 54

Between
them, Lydia and Eddie gathered up all the clothing and sleeping
bags they could find and transported them to the lifeboat, before
returning to the cabin to find Cameron asleep on the
bunk.

“
Leave him,” said Lydia. “He’s not in pain if he’s
asleep.”

They
left him and made their way to the mess. Eddie pushed the door
partly open; Lydia held back.

“
You okay?” he said.

She
nodded uncertainly.

“
You sure? Because you don’t have to do this. I can manage
on my own.”

She
swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders, as if it would make
her appear taller and more confident. “I’m fine.”

They
crossed the floor of the mess toward the kitchen area, Lydia so
close to Eddie she could have climbed into his pocket.

At the
entryway they paused, the doorway presenting itself as a portal
between two worlds; theirs, normal and safe in a warped kind of
way, the other holding unspeakable vileness.

The blue
light reflecting off steel surfaces merely enhanced the effect as
it bathed them both in an ethereal glow, shifting anything white
toward blinding violet and deepening shadows into hostile purple
hollows.

Eddie
stepped through, found the light switches and mashed them on. One
by one fluorescent tubes flickered and sprang into life, flooding
the room with clear fresh light that overwhelmed the blue, bringing
back colour and banishing the shadows to a harmless
grey.

Not so
bad.

“
Come on,” he said. “We’ll get what we need and get out.
What?”

Lydia’s
eyes were darting around the room, her breathing ragged.

“
I can’t see him!” She turned herself in frantic circles.
“Where is he Eddie? I can’t see him. He’s gone. He’s not dead. He’s
going to get us–”

Eddie
put his hands on her shoulders. “Shhhh, it’s okay. He’s still
there. There’s just... less of him. Look.”

“
I don’t want to!” She thrust herself against him, hiding
her face in his chest.

He hugged her to him. “It’s okay. You don’t have
to.”
But I
do, to be sure.
Keeping himself between Lydia and his objective, he edged
his way towards where Euterich’s remains lay.

'Remains' was an overstatement. Defined in any dictionary as
cadaver, carcass, corpse, dead body, none of these applied. What
lay on the floor had no discernible structure.

The ruins of the being
Euterich
now amounted to no more than a set of dark
blue overalls and a pair of boots, surrounded by a lake of what
appeared to be half set aspic streaked with scarlet and black, its
surface wrinkled like cooling jam. No bones to speak of.

They too
had melted away, apart from the ribs which gave little shape to the
cotton covering, and the skull which lay misshapen and distorted,
like a melted candle. Not enough solid material remained to fill a
two gallon bucket.

Nothing
here to be scared of. That still lay ahead, a far bigger menace
standing between them and safety. One with much less
pity.

While
Eddie filled bottles and flasks with drinking water, Lydia
collected together cans, bottles, jars, and packets from the
pantry.

She
then, bravely Eddie thought, went by herself to fetch supplies from
the medical room, returning with a small canvas bag and a black
plastic container with a lid.

“
What’s that for?” Eddie asked, pointing to it.

“
What goes in has to come out sometime,” she said, and
lifted the lid to show him the roll of white toilet paper
within.

When
they were ready to leave, they stopped by Eddie’s cabin to get
Cameron.

Lydia
trailed behind the two men as they supported each other, their
wounded legs moving in unison as if bound in a grotesque
three-legged race as they eased their way along the walkways to the
lifeboat station and their escape.

“
You two get inside number one,” Eddie instructed. “I’m
going to set the EPIRBS and remotely launch two and
three.”

When he
returned, having sent the other lifeboats on their way, Lydia and
Cameron were already secured in their seats by their five point
canvas harnesses, heads nestled in padded head protectors, the
bands across their foreheads holding them steady.

Eddie
sealed the hatch, climbed into the pilot’s seat, and fastened his
own restraints.

“
We’ll give the other boats a few minutes to get out of the
way,” he said. “We don’t want to hit one of them when we
land.”

They sat
in silence for over five minutes as Eddie went through the start up
procedure, firing up the engine and pumping the lever to prime the
hydraulic plunger that would release them from the
davit.

Lydia
clutched Mr Brown, rubbing his fine fur against her cheek. Cameron
sat statue like, as pale as death, eyes closed, lips moving in
silent prayer.

Time
dragged mercilessly on.

“
Ready?” Eddie said finally, swivelling in his chair to face
them.

Lydia
took hold of Cameron’s hand. “Ready.”

One last
check.

Motor,
deluge pumps, pressurisation, launch handle primed. All go. It’s
now or never.

“
Hang on!”

Summoning all his courage and issuing up a prayer of his own,
Eddie shifted the lever, like releasing the hand-brake on a car; a
simple action which either saved all their lives, or condemned them
to death.

The
docking clamps holding them to the davit disengaged, and after a
second’s pause, the unstoppable forward motion began.

No going
back now.

The boat
cleared the skids and launched itself into fresh air, and three
stomachs rose into throats as it tipped forward and began its five
second free-fall.

Impact!

The
passengers jarred in their seats as the boat sliced through the
surface of the water into temporary darkness.

Almost
immediately it bobbed back into the light grey water washing over
the portholes, leaving behind streaks of angry foam. In the watery
light of dawn Eddie could see the state of the sea.

Still
too rough for normal sailing, but a little less than he expected.
The rage of the storm had all but played itself out. Conditions
could only improve from now on. They might have a chance after
all.

Guided
by the compass, Eddie turned the boat around until it faced a
generally westerly direction, and let the tiny motor take over, and
made quick calculations.

They
were approximately 250 miles offshore, which equated to round about
217 nautical miles. At an average speed of 5 knots, in perfect
conditions, it should take them 43 hours, give or take, to get to
safety.

With
luck, they would come across a ship long before that. He set the
EPIRB and Search and Rescue Transponder and sent out a distress
call on the short wave radio.

The
reply, however, came only in the form of an electronic
hiss.

He tried
again. More static.

How
could he be sure any of them were actually working? He could do
nothing else but put his faith in the little motor and hope the
weather did not turn on them again.

If it
did, there would not be enough fuel to get them all the way to
shore, and they would be left to drift with the tide until... Eddie
didn’t want to think about it.

He made
one last SOS call on the short wave before leaving the pilot’s
chair to undo Lydia’s head restraint and take a seat across the
aisle from her.

“
Okay?” he said.

Her
smile was fragile and frightened. “Yeah.”

“
Wasn’t too bad, was it? Like being on a roller
coaster.”

“
I hate roller coasters. They make me sick.”

“
Take one of your pills.”

“
Don’t have any.”

“
Shall I get you the bucket?”

Her
mouth puckered and she scowled at him.

“
Shutting up,” he said, and sat back in his seat.

Lydia
undid her seat-belt and rooted out her medical bag from under her
seat. “Duncan?”

Cameron,
still fastened rigidly in his chair, looked at her with a
dispassionate eye.

“
Let me undo your restraints,” she said. “You don’t need
them now.” She released his head and unbuckled the webbing straps,
freeing him. “I’ve got some morphine in my bag. I know you said you
didn’t want any, but I’m going to give you a shot. Okay? Doctor’s
orders.” He spoke not a word, expressed no emotion, didn’t try to
stop her as she administered the medication. “It should start to
work very soon and you’ll feel better,” she said.

He
nodded weakly.

She
squeezed his hand, and changed seats to sit beside
Eddie.

“
Poor bugger,” she said, keeping her voice low. “He’s all
but done in.”

Eddie
took hold of her hand and pressed her fingers to his lips. “We’ll
look after him,” he said. “And the first thing we’ll do when we get
back on land, after we get him fixed up, is go to the nearest pub
and take in more alcohol than makes any sort of sense.”

“
I’ll drink to that.”

She
rested her head against his shoulder, a strand of her mussed up
hair tickling his chin.

“
Eddie?”

“
Hmmm?”

“
About what I wanted to say to you...before, when I said it
didn’t matter, it could wait–”

“
What about it?”

“
I think now might be the time...in case I don’t get another
chance.”

“
Okay.”

She
leaned into him and pressed her lips close to his ear. “I just
wanted you to know... I love you.”

He felt
his heart stand still. “Me?”

“
You.”

“
Really?”

“
Yeah.”

“
You sure?”

“
Yes!”

“
But I thought - you and erm–” His attention flicked to
Cameron.

“
Who? Duncan? No. He’s a really nice guy and I’m very fond
of him, but it’s definitely you who’s captured my heart, in spite
of the fact you say okay waaaay to much and it irritates the hell
out of me, but most probably because of your judicious use of
coloured pens, and of course your sock fetish.”

Brewer
had
been right all along. Bugger.

She
lowered her head to rest it in his lap, Mr Brown clutched to her
chest, and Eddie stroked her hair until he felt her sigh and relax
against him as she fell into sleep.

He now
had a new impetus.

They had
to survive, because he hadn’t told her that he in turn loved her
and had done since the moment she handed him the bottle of ginger
beer.

He vowed
he would, the minute she woke up. It might be the last thing he
did, but he would do it.

The
throbbing in his right hand broke into his romantic reverie. He
cursed this injury more than any of his others. To him writing was
therapy, and by God he was going to need it, but without the use of
his fingers it was going to be weeks before he could even make a
start on exorcising these particular demons in the only way he knew
how - onto paper.

He
leaned back against the headrest and looked across at Cameron, the
damaged man withdrawn into his own thoughts, gazing out of the
small window with his good eye, the other swollen shut and a livid
livery purple. A solitary tear coursed its way unchecked down the
man’s stubbled cheek and Eddie’s heart ached for him.

His own
cracked ribs, broken fingers, sprained ankle and various other
bangs and bruises would heal in time with little or no after
effect. The unspeakable horrors and miseries of the last few days
had implanted themselves in Cameron’s head like a seed which had
swelled and split and taken root.

If he
fed and watered them enough by dwelling on them, they would
continue to grow and eat into him, forcing him to relive his
experiences in excruciating detail every day for the rest of his
life, until it drove him out of his mind.

He’d
already told Lydia they would look after Cameron, and he solemnised
his promise. He would make himself available whenever Cameron ever
needed to talk, and even if he didn’t. They would get together
regularly to share a drink and a smoke, or to just sit in quiet
companionship.