Sunday's Child (19 page)

He hadn't wanted to come back to base at all as his was the only boat that could get close enough to pull the woman off the wreck itself, but the fuel gauge was on empty. He'd promised her that he'd return and he just prayed he'd be in time.

The wind pushed the water against the bridge, which creaked and moved in the strong gusts. The beach was littered with the remains of personal effects. A forensic crew, covered head to toe in white overalls, slowly moved down the shore, photographing every small piece before collecting it in clear plastic bags.

Cal stood on the boat, overseeing the refueling. Hattie watched him. He longed to hug her, to assure her he was all right and to make sure she was, but he didn't have time. Not if he were going to get back out before that carriage finally went under.

Tom came over. “Cal, we're standing down. The engineers think more of the bridge is going to fall and want everyone to steer clear until someone's checked it.”

Cal shook his head. “The other team heard someone as they got close to the wreck, so I checked it out. She's in the carriage that's just above the water line. We're the only boat that can get in close enough to get to her. I promised we'd go back.”

“It's not safe.”

“I'm not leaving her to die, Tom.” He raised his voice. “We delay, or wait until they say it's safe, and that carriage could go under. It's my decision. As helm officer I have the right to launch on my say so. I want to go.”

Tom frowned, and nodded at last. “But I do not agree with this decision and I will note it as such in the log.”

“That's fine.” Cal nodded. He glanced at the rest of his crew. Sam, Trevor and Phil met his gaze unwaveringly. “If you guys want to stay here, that's fine with me.”

“You need us,” Trevor said.

“We all go,” Sam echoed.

“All or none,” Phil agreed.

“Thank you.” Cal looked at the shore crew. “Let's go. We've wasted enough time.” He held his breath as the DODO moved back into the water. He prayed again that they'd find her, and that the carriage would hold long enough for them to pull her to safety. She'd been so scared, of dying, of them not coming back. He had to make it.

He aimed the boat into the breaking waves, accelerating rapidly. He glanced at Trevor. “Rope up. She might not have the strength to catch the rope herself.”

“Aye.”

Cal turned his attention to the controls, steering the boat to where he'd last seen her. Arriving at the carriage there was no sign of the woman. Where had she gone? Had someone else pulled her off? “Tom, has someone else found her?”

“Negative.” The reply cracked over the radio.

“Roger that. Going in closer.”

“Cal, don't be a—”

Cal flipped off his radio, leaving the others to communicate back. The waves grew rougher the closer he got, tossing the boat into the remains of the bridge. The impact threw them all to the floor of the boat. “Everyone all right?” he asked, pushing himself upright.

“Aye,” came three responses.

“Found her.” Trevor yelled, diving over the side of the boat at the same time.

Cal trusted the others to do their job, while he held the boat as steady as he could. They depended on him just as much. The whole point of being a team—four individuals working together as one. He kept praying as they worked. They needed God's help just as much as they needed each other.

“Got her,” Phil yelled and tapped him on the shoulder. “She's alive. Her name's Ellie.”

“Thank You, Lord.” Cal turned the boat and headed back to shore. Behind him came a horrendous tearing sound. He glanced over his shoulder to see the train carriage vanish beneath a huge wave. He accelerated, but the edge of the wave picked up the small lifeboat, tossing it under the bridge.

At that instant, a large piece of metal framework fell, catching the stern of the boat. The boat tipped over backwards, almost in slow motion, tossing them into the icy, tumultuous water.

Forced under the water by the falling ironwork, Cal struggled to get free. He kicked desperately, pushing side the debris until he broke the surface, his lungs burning. He took large swallows of air, looking around for the others. The lifeboat was nowhere to be seen, presumably somewhere on the bottom of the sea or on its way down.

Phil and Sam broke the surface beside him. “Cal?”

“I'm fine. What about you two?”

They both nodded.

He looked around, desperately trying to locate the others. “Where's Trevor? What about Ellie?”

“I don't know.”

Cal dived down searching for them. The water was murky, filled with debris and mud kicked up by the falling ironwork.

As he surfaced for air, he found himself being hauled aboard a navy RHIB. “I have to find them,” he yelled. “Trevor's still down there.”

“We'll do it. Let's get you back to shore.”

“No…” He struggled to get free. “I can't leave them.”

“Let us handle it now.” The officer held him firmly, a steel look in his eye that Cal knew only too well.

The other lifeboat surged past them, heading to the bridge. Another navy craft headed in from another direction. Cal sat back in defeat, tears burning his eyes. The RHIB headed quickly back to the shore, landing on the beach itself like he'd seen done in television programs, and he himself had done in training a few nights previously.

The navy officer helped him out and someone put a blanket around his shoulders.

He shook it off and looked at Tom as he came running over. “I have to go back out there and look for Trevor.”

“No. I'm standing you down.”

“Trevor is out there!” Cal yelled, frantic with worry and guilt. “I have to go and find him.”

“You need to stay here. The crews from Porthness are on scene now. As is the navy and coastguard. Search and rescue will be here as soon as the winds die down sufficiently. Go home.”

“Not until Trevor is safe.” Cal tried to head back to the boat, but Tom caught his arm and shook his head.

“Stand down. That's an order.”

“Not while Trevor is missing.”

“I'm not saying it again.” Tom narrowed his eyes. “You stand down or I will relieve you of duty.”

“Cal!” Hattie's voice cried out across the beach.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But I want it noted that I do not agree with this decision.” He pulled off his gloves, shoving them into his pocket. Yanking off his helmet, he swallowed hard, bile rising in his throat.

Hattie reached out for him. Her eyes were bright with barely contained tears. “Cal, are you all right? When the boat vanished I thought…”

“I'm fine. I just need a minute.” He hugged her quickly, then headed inside and into the crew changing area. He sank onto the bench and buried his head in his hands.

Was this his fault for insisting on going back out? Was he too close to the bridge or the wreckage? Should he have left that woman, Ellie, to die? No, he shouldn't have. He was doing his job, but his job could have cost the life of one of his own.

Stripping off, he stood under a hot shower. His eyes burned and the lump in his throat threatened to choke him. A huge sob welled up and overtook him. Then he heard footsteps outside and he reigned in his emotion, swallowing hard. There'd be time for that later. Perhaps.

He toweled off and dressed, before heading towards the office to write his report. He could hear Hattie and Laurie talking and paused at the bottom of the stairs to listen.

“I have to go to him.” Hattie's voice was broken as if she were crying.

“Give him a few more minutes.” Laurie sounded just as upset, but more in control. “He needs…”

“He could have died out there…”

“Yes, and men react differently to us women. Trust me on that one. He'll be down when he's ready.”

Cal headed up the stairs and sat at the desk by the window, pulling open a file to start writing up his report. His vision blurred. What was he doing?

Guilt filled him.

He'd made Hattie cry. He'd left a man out there to die. He'd failed in his duty of care to a civilian. He'd defied orders and risked the lives of three men and for what? And he'd upset the woman he loved.

This was his fault. And no matter what the result, he had to put his hand up and own it.

Forgive me, Lord. Because as long as I live, I will not forgive myself for this. What kind of a man am I? Not one that should be out there, that's for sure.

His gaze returned to the window. He could see the bridge and the boats surrounding it. Bags and cases were being pulled from the water, along with larger pieces of debris.

Men in fluorescent jackets walked out along the bridge, checking it. How would they raise the train? Or would they just leave it there, as the water was deep enough so it wouldn't pose a hazard to shipping.

His attention was caught by the lifeboat coming back in. There was another figure in the boat. Pushing back the chair, he leapt to his feet and ran to the door, his exhaustion forgotten. He took the stairs at full pelt, and stood with Tom and the others on the beach.

Hattie crept up beside him and slid her hand into his. He clung to it tightly, feeling like he was drowning all over again. “I'm sorry I snapped at you,” he whispered. “Just didn't want to leave him out there.”

“It's OK. I understand.”

With bated breath he watched as the tractor towed the boat up the shingle towards them.

Justin stood up in the boat and helped the woman over the side.
They found Ellie, thank You, Lord. But what about Trevor?

His heart sank as Bert and Roger bent, and then stood, lifting a motionless figure in lifeboat uniform from the bottom of the boat.

Nooooooo…..

 

 

 

 

19

 

Hattie woke to the sound of hammering and sawing coming from downstairs. She glanced at the clock and sat bolt upright in shock. One twenty. The muted light from the other side of the curtains meant that must be afternoon. She hadn't meant to sleep that long at all. Had she slept through her alarm? She'd only wanted a couple of hours. She got up and pulled her robe over her pj's. Whoever was banging was making way too much noise.

Making her way to the kitchen, Hattie flicked on the kettle and picked up the note propped against it.
Hattie, I've gone to work. Cal's here, doesn't look like he got much sleep if any last night. Make sure he drinks something at least. See you at five.

Pulling her robe tighter around her, she headed towards the source of the noise. She stood in the hallway transfixed at the sight that beheld her.

Cal stood in the den with his back to her. Stripped to the waist with sweat trickling down his back, he ripped out the old doorframe, his arm muscles rippling.

She leaned against the wall, taking in the view, unconsciously tugging her robe tighter. “Morning.”

Cal looked up and shot her a wry smile. “Afternoon, actually. Did I wake you?”

“I had to get up anyway. I hadn't intended to sleep this long. How are you?”

He shrugged. “Here. How are you?”

“Doing OK. How's Trevor?”

“He's in a coma.”

Her stomach twisted. That accounted for the distraught look and the way he threw himself into his work. “Is he going to be all right?”

“I don't know. They don't know. I shouldn't have gone back out. There were other crews. Tom wanted to stand us down. If I hadn't gone out there, if I hadn't insisted, launched on my own authority—”

“You can't second guess yourself, Cal. That woman wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you.”

Cal hit the door frame extra hard, splintering it. “I lost the boat.” He pulled the wood away, puncturing his sentences with bits thudding on the floor, his voice taut with barely suppressed emotion. “I lost Trevor. I lost all those people I never reached in time. He was my friend and I. Lost. Him.”

Hattie caught hold of his arm. “Cal, you pulled a dozen people out of that train wreck Sunday night, if not more. You rescued a shed load of other people this year, including me. That's dozens of people who would have died if it weren't for you and countless other crews up and down the country who go out in horrendous weather.”

“Trevor—”

“—was doing his job,” she finished. “Just like you he put his life on the line to save others. Just have faith he'll be all right.”

“And if he isn't? Hattie, his wife, Miriam, is expecting another baby. His kid might never know him because I screwed up.”

“Then let's pray that God over rules and heals him.” She held his gaze, then grabbed his hands tightly in her good one and prayed with him.

“Thank you. Least I'm not meant to be out there for two weeks. Give me time to pull myself together.”

“What will you do?”

“What I normally do. Work. Right now, that's putting this place to rights for Laurie. That reminds me.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sheet of folded paper. “How's this?”

She took it, his scent filling her.

He held her gaze, then reached for his tee-shirt, pulling it over his head and tugging it over his chest. “Sorry.”

“Don't be,” she said looking at the paper. The design was exactly what she'd asked for and the quote more than reasonable. If it was right. “Is this for all the shutters or just the missing ones?”

“All of them.”

“OK. It sounds great. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

“What will happen about the lifeboat?”

“They've sent us a temporary one from the repair fleet.” She must have looked as confused as she felt because he carried on. “When a boat needs repairing for whatever reason, they send out a spare, so we can continue to operate. For every six boats built, one goes into the relief fleet. It arrived yesterday, so we're fully serviceable.”