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The Crossing - Boxed set of Two Action & Adventure Novels
The Crossing - Boxed set of Two Action & Adventure Novels
The Crossing - Boxed set of Two Action & Adventure Novels
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The Crossing - Boxed set of Two Action & Adventure Novels

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Two Action & Adventure Novels in One Volume tell the story of "The Crossing"

"The Seeds Of Time" (Book 1)
This intensely romantic yet realistic action and adventure novel spans two generations and the unimaginable gulf between the Second World War and the present.

When Englishman Richard Barker suffers a devastating loss he learns to come to terms with his grief. He is helped by two beautiful women, newly discovered quiet and smouldering American, Sorrel and the tempestuous and wilful, Miranda an old flame from long ago.

While Richard is battling with his feelings, by chance he enters into the dark, often surreal world of his dead father's past life spent during the Second World War. It is Sorrel's Grandfather, an American Air Force pilot, who contacts Richard with some intriguing news which helps Richard to his senses.

Richard lives in a world that is sometimes as tragic as A Farewell to Arms and as sensuous as The English Patient. His story and that of his father are crafted from the ruins of war and the indestructibility of love. The action is non-stop, the locations are intriguing and the characters are appealing. There is tension, romance and harrowing escapes all woven within a story that captures the imagination and keeps the reader guessing until the very end.

Will Richard find inner peace and love?

"HARVEST" (Book2)

Continues Richard and Billy's stories which begun in The Seeds of Time. Billy returns home and marries his love, while Richard has to make a decision between the two beautiful women in his life. Richard discovers he is torn between love and duty.

In Sorrel he finds what he believes is his soul-mate, whereas sexy Miranda keeps Richard guessing. When Richard discovers an old war-torn photograph of a woman and two children he is shaken to the core. What was it his father did & never divulged to his wife and family? Harvest is a world where tragedy rests alongside joy. Harvest deals with harsh, cruel, & often despicable conditions - at the same time describing the indestructibility of love in past & present lives. This is a story of deep romance, bravery, survival, heartbreak and happiness, all poignantly & convincingly conveyed. Richard's compelling desire to finally lay his father's dark secrets to rest brings warmth and understanding into the two intertwined stories. All perfectly blended with non-stop action, intriguing locations, and appealing characters.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 18, 2013
ISBN9781497794849
The Crossing - Boxed set of Two Action & Adventure Novels

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    The Crossing - Boxed set of Two Action & Adventure Novels - Faith Mortimer

    THE CROSSING

    A Boxed Set of

    Two Action & Adventure Novels

    by

    FAITH MORTIMER

    The Seeds of Time

    Book One of The Crossing

    Harvest

    Book Two of The Crossing

    Copyright © Faith Mortimer 2013

    The right of Faith Mortimer to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

    ––––––––

    All Rights Reserved

    ––––––––

    No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission.

    ––––––––

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents originate from the writer’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

    ––––––––

    This Edition Published in 2013

    by Topsails Charter, Southampton

    About the author:

    Faith Mortimer: born in Manchester, England and educated in Singapore, Malaya and Hampshire, England. Qualified as a Registered nurse and later changed careers to oversee a number of travel and sport related companies.

    Faith is married with a family. Once the children attended University, she decided to join them in reading for a Science degree. Faith obtained an Honours Science degree in 2005 and believes the dedication and stamina needed to sit for a degree while in full-time employment, gave her the confidence to finish writing her first novel.

    She has now written and published twelve novels and a volume of short stories. All are available as eBooks from your favourite online book store.

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    You can get in touch with Faith via her website, Facebook, and twitter.

    www.faithmortimerauthor.com

    www.facebook.com/FaithMortimer.Author

    http://twitter.com/FaithMortimer

    ––––––––

    Acknowledgements

    A Big Thank You to my editor Catherine and to my husband Chris for their invaluable assistance and patient support.

    TABLE OF CONTENTS (click on title to go to book)

    THE SEEDS OF TIME

    ––––––––

    HARVEST

    The Seeds Of Time

    Book One of The Crossing

    by FAITH MORTIMER

    Dedication

    To the gallant men of the British Royal Navy Coastal Forces who served with such bravery and distinction during the Second World War.

    Prologue

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    Germany 1945

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    Billy gathered his treasures together and laid them at the end of his ramshackle bunk in hut nineteen. There wasn’t a lot to account for three years’ incarceration at the hands of the sometimes brutal Germans, but his treasures represented his life and, more importantly, his soul. He thought about the refugees who had filed past the gates of his camp: old people; women with children; babes in arms; the injured, burned and terrified and the deranged. All were fleeing from the horrors, the Christians among them struggling to believe and reconcile their religious beliefs with Nazi cold-blooded excesses and mass murder.

    Billy considered his pitiful little pile: Christmas cards from Penny, her heavily censored letters and her simple but evocative poetry, the handmade playing cards, two cigarettes, the German soldier’s – Dieter’s – belt buckle and Nathaniel’s penny whistle. Nathaniel. Billy shook his head in regret and fought back the familiar choking feeling that arose in his throat whenever he thought about it. He thrust his dark thoughts aside and continued picking over his possessions. He would take as many clothes as he could carry. He had nothing heavy. He had given his Bible away, hopefully to someone who would put it to better use than he. Gathering up his things, he tied them into a bundle with his faded and well-darned pullover and slung it over his shoulder. He straightened his back, lifted his head, and stood as erect as his gammy leg allowed. I’ll march out of here proudly, he thought. He and his comrades formed into ranks and marched smartly up to the gates. The weak and sick were supported by their stronger colleagues, their spirits rising. They didn’t know where they were going, but it had to be a better place than this.

    The Seeds of Time

    ––––––––

    Chapter 1

    The Atlantic 2005

    Richard knew he had no choice. It had to be now; he would never get another chance. He took a deep breath and pushed off the heaving wet deck of his yacht. With sheer determination, he dived for the rescue net. He hit the water, and his lower torso disappeared into the black froth that seemed to claw and clutch at him. Somehow, he managed to stretch out, and as he grabbed the harsh net with one arm, he felt the mesh tangle around him. The ship lurched, and this time he was fully immersed in deep water. What seemed like minutes later, he broke the surface, coughing and choking, the salt stinging his eyes. Clamping his other hand round the netting, Richard clung to it like a limpet. The water roared and hissed around his ears, terrifyingly black. He knew he must climb the rescue net quickly, as his energy was rapidly ebbing away, and conditions weren’t going to get any better.

    Moving one arm higher, he found a rung and hauled himself up, grunting with the exertion as he did so. His hands were bleeding from fresh cuts where he had smashed against the rough barnacles on the ship’s hull. Fatigue was rapidly overwhelming him. The past few days of untold stress and lack of sleep were taking their toll. Gritting his teeth, he managed to move up another foot of net and then by willpower alone, he pulled himself up rung by rung. He heard the faint encouraging cries of the crew far above him and paused. He looked up and saw a line of faces peering down at him. His adrenalin surged, and with renewed vigour, he at last collapsed thankfully on the ship’s deck.

    Utterly exhausted by his ordeal, Richard lay there not quite believing where he was. Water streamed off his body, and he knew that soon he would begin to feel the cold as it seeped through to his bones. Coughing and retching seawater, Richard sat up, suddenly noticing the ring of sturdy-looking sea boots before him. He attempted to stand and felt strong arms supporting him. He braced his legs against the motion of the deck and looked round. A circle of anxious faces stared back: a stocky bearded fellow whom he assumed to be the captain, four or five crew members, and an ashen-faced Toby. The captain cleared his throat, about to speak.

    Again, Richard looked around his surroundings and forestalled him by saying hoarsely, ‘Where’s Connie? Where’s my wife?’ His voice wavered, and he felt his heart thump wildly in his chest. There was silence. No one spoke. All sounds drifted away from him. He was in a dreamlike glide, and the reality was too strange to comprehend. He felt as though his actions were slowing, as if in a slow-motion film, frame by frame passing by. Everything took an eternity: a raised hand placed on his shoulder, a sentence spoken slowly by someone, but everything seen with an achingly clear focus, sharply defined. He imagined her limp in his arms, her head thrown back, and the curve of her throat, so beautiful. She was gone.

    The slow world turned crimson red. It spun wildly on its axis and then rushed up to engulf him as his head hit the hard deck with a thump.

    *****

    Sometime later, Richard struggled to clear the mistiness from his brain. Every time he reached out and clawed at the blackness engulfing him, he was drawn back down again into his own violent hell. He tossed and turned in delirium on the sweat-drenched bunk where the crew had placed him after he had collapsed on the outside deck.

    The ship’s medic had swiftly examined Richard’s head wound, soon dismissing it as a minor laceration. The medic was more worried about the state of his patient’s mind once he regained consciousness. As he observed Richard and listened to his feverish cries of anguish, he could only guess at the nightmares which coursed around his brain. The medic knew from what Toby had told him a little of what had happened on the yacht’s fated voyage, and he shook his head in pity as he wondered how Richard was going to cope. Richard had everything going for him, he had been told, and now this. How the hell had it all gone wrong?

    Chapter 2

    Richard William Barker couldn’t get the idea out of his head that something was up. Nothing had been said, but he was now feeling edgy once he had finished talking to his friend, Toby Ellis. Richard thought over what Toby had told him.

    Guess what? I knew you were waiting for that new piece of navigational software to come out, and I’ve pulled a few strings with some pals of mine at Oceantech.  I’ve been given a sample which they’d like you to sea-trial for them. I was thinking – I have a bit of leave to take, and I thought I’d bring it out to Tenerife instead of trusting it to the post. The piece probably wouldn’t reach you in time before you leave to cross the Atlantic anyway. So I’ll see you both tomorrow. The flight gets in mid-afternoon, and I’ll get a taxi to the marina. I must say I’m looking forward to seeing you and Connie and catching some rays. The weather here is bloody awful at the moment.

    Although Richard liked Toby, he knew his friend was often selfish and usually worked off his own agenda, so Richard had every right to feel suspicious. He paused on the foredeck of his yacht and shook his head. What the hell! There was probably nothing in it at all, and he was being paranoid. Toby was simply doing him a favour in delivering the piece of software and using Tenerife as an excuse to see some winter sun. Once Richard and Connie set sail, he would no doubt move into the swankiest hotel on the island and cast his roving eye around for some beautiful woman to pass the time. Richard laughed. Toby was the devil when it came to women, and no female under the age of fifty was safe as far as he was concerned. Richard didn’t know how he managed it. He decided he needed a cold beer before Connie got back from her shopping and rummaged around in the cool box until he found what he was looking for. He deserved a ten-minute break anyway.

    Richard reached the cockpit of his beautiful sloop-rigged yacht, Ellentari, and looked along her deck. He still felt a shiver of pleasure as he ran a hand over the smooth varnished mahogany trim. This trip was going to be the adventure of a lifetime, and it was something Richard had planned down to the tiniest detail. As far as he could tell, nothing was left unorganised or forgotten, and he was as coiled as a spring with anticipation.

    Richard’s long-term plans had come together nicely. They had all the necessary ingredients: the time, the money, and a successful partnership in which they complimented each other for the majority of the time they spent together. After a heady, passionate early marriage, Richard and Connie Barker had settled down with only the occasional stormy row to punctuate their steady relationship. Richard loved Connie – there was no doubt about his feelings towards her, but being fairly undemonstrative, Richard usually kept his inner feelings to himself.

    Richard had placed his business interests in the trustworthy hands of his manager, while also knowing that with today’s technology he could stay in daily contact if necessary by satellite telephone and email. His wariness was caused by their almost imminent departure from Tenerife. In a day or so – all being well – they would have completed all the necessary tasks and boat preparations. Getting ready for a long, extended cruise had taken over a year. They planned on leaving the comparative safety of the Canary Island waters and on sailing across The Pond. In other words, they had 2,800 miles of the Atlantic to cross in a small boat. It was well known to be a vast, lonely, sometimes inhospitable sea, but it was an adventure that many an amateur sailor had undertaken without mishap, thoroughly enjoying the challenge and eventual achievement.

    With almost everything in place, Richard was eager to be off to fulfil his lifelong dream of skippering his own yacht across one of the great oceans of the world and facing all the personal challenges that would be thrown at him. He didn’t know where this deep-seated yearning had come from, but for most of his life he had felt an almost overwhelming urge to go out, buy a boat, and explore. Now the dream was just beginning and coming to fruition, as Richard and Connie finalised their preparations for their planned adventure.

    Richard sat contemplating the condensation on his beer can as it slowly ran down the outside, forming a small wet ring on the coaster. Wiping it away with his hand, he thought about Toby as another uncomfortable wave of doubt passed through him. He sighed and took a gulp of beer.

    Richard knew Connie was not as passionate about sailing as he was. She much preferred to be within sight of land. However, she had jumped at the chance of leaving her position as a surgical ward sister, and she was thoroughly enjoying the newfound luxury of being her own boss. Connie discovered she actually had time for herself. Having enrolled in a diving class before leaving England, she was looking forward to exploring the fabulous coral reefs around the British Virgin Islands. Connie had also rediscovered her teenage talent for painting and looked forward to catching the colourful Caribbean on canvas. Aboard Ellentari, their comfortable furnished aft cabin, with its scandalously large double bunk, had a whole locker dedicated to her artistic talents. She meant to enjoy herself. The sailing would be mainly Richard’s interest with Connie doing her bit.

    As soon as he finished his beer, Richard took a look at his watch, thinking it was about time she was home and was rewarded by the sight of Connie walking along the wooden pontoon.

    Hi, darling. You look a bit hot. Fancy a cold drink?

    Connie took off her sandals and handed a couple of plastic grocery bags up to Richard. Yes please. Can you put these vegetables below for me? What are you having? Beer?

    Yes. Want one?

    Um. Actually I’d prefer a Campari and fresh orange, please.

    Campari and orange coming up.

    Richard went below taking the fresh produce with him, while Connie sat down on a plump deck cushion and sighed in relief.

    Did you get everything we need? he asked after joining her on deck.

    Yep. I think we have enough food to last a siege now, and there’s definitely more than we can manage. I think I’ve panicked a bit.

    Richard laughed. I’m sure we’ll eat it all. Sea air gives you a great appetite.

    Richard studied his wife with a familiar deep affection. Small, dark-haired, and neat, described her outward appearance. She was about five feet four inches in her bare feet and possessed a nice slim body. Her legs were well shaped, rising to a firm little bottom, nipped in waist, and pert breasts. Handful-sized, Richard would say. Anything bigger would be a waste. She had recently had her hair cut short, as she complained long hair would be too hot in a tropical climate. Her newly shorn hair was slightly curly from the salty air and attractively framed her violet-blue eyes. Connie enjoyed her refreshing Campari and orange juice. The ice cubes tinkled against the glass when she lifted it for a sip, and she relished the slight bitterness of the fortified spirit that contrasted with the sweetness of the fruit. She caught Richard appraising her and raised her eyebrows.

    What?

    Nothing.

    It was her turn to laugh. Something’s on your mind. I know you so well. What’s wrong?

    No truly, nothing’s wrong. He took a pull of beer from his can.

    Then why look so pensive?

    Toby rang today.

    Oh? What did he want?

    Nothing. He rang to say he’d managed to get that piece of software for the radar.

    That’s good. What’s he going to do? Post it to Antigua?

    Actually, no. He says, as he has some leave owing, he’s flying out tomorrow with it. He plans to— Richard paused. What did Toby plan to do?

    Go on.

    Well, that was it really. I presume as he mentioned getting some sun, he’ll stay on here. You know Toby. He can afford a decent hotel and will love being surrounded by women.

    Connie grinned and shook her head. It’s about time he settled down. Even he must be tired of playing the field.

    Richard thought about his friend before replying. You’re right, he should, but I’m not sure he’d agree. He’s probably too stuck in his ways to get a steady partner. He usually tires of them before they become anywhere near steady.

    Well, he’s not our problem.

    Not likely! We’ll be off in two days, exploring the world! Now where shall we eat tonight?

    *****

    They decided to eat dinner in the square in Santa Cruz. Connie was a seafood lover and adored sampling the local tapas and oysters. This was followed by delicious sea bream, grilled with just olive oil and herbs, washed down with a crisp white Marques de Caceres, one of their favourite wines. Richard fancied a steak and was well rewarded with his choice of tender, melt-in-the-mouth piece of fillet. They decided to forgo coffee, preferring to stroll hand in hand across the cobbled square back to the yacht, taking in the balmy, cooling night breeze. On reaching their pontoon, Ellentari shone in the silvery moonlight, her tall mast and spreaders thrusting loftily up into the blue-black sky. Turning to Connie, Richard put his arms around her and planted a soft kiss upon her lips.

    The huge golden orb of the sun was long gone having cast long deep-mauve shadows on the surrounding hills. It had been another perfect day in paradise using the yachties’ much hackneyed, but true, cliché. Richard decided everything was perfect.

    *****

    Meanwhile back in England, Toby Ellis had already picked out his sailing gear and was methodically sorting through what was appropriate for tropical climates and what was not. Definitely not, was his set of sea-stained, heavy-duty waterproofs, better known in sailing circles as oilies. The expensive leather sailing boots could stay home too. He would take his own lifejacket and harness as they fitted him well, and he felt comfortable in them. Deck shoes were needed only for when they cast off, then bare feet would be the order of the day. He chose lots of short-sleeved shirts and swimming shorts. Where was his passport? In his bathroom cupboard, he found suntan lotion of factor thirty and another lighter one for use once he was more acclimatised to the tropical sun. He would need plenty of credit cards of course and some dollars for cash. Those he could pick up at the airport. Easy!

    Toby knew they would agree in him accompanying them on their sailing adventure, especially Richard, once Toby cornered him and explained how much easier three crew would be instead of two. He planned on using the Connie would be much happier knowing there were two strong men on board all that way theme. Connie would be easy to persuade. She had a soft spot for him, and he found her pretty cute himself; but then he usually found most women pretty cute. They were one of his weaknesses. This thought led him to recall what had happened earlier that day at work and how he had found himself in this position, much to his satisfaction.

    *****

    That grey, grim London morning, Toby was reeling under the acid lash from his senior partner’s tongue.

    For Christ’s sake, what the hell did you think you were doing? he had stormed. Michael’s got enough trouble being married to a younger woman and trying to keep her satisfied without you rubbing his nose in it. He jabbed a finger angrily at Toby.  What’s more, she means everything to him and absolutely nothing to you. You only pursued her because you could, and frankly, I find your behaviour disgusting! he thundered.

    Thomas leaned back heavily in his leather swivel chair and regarded Toby with open contempt. This time, Toby had gone too far. As senior partner in Holmes and Benton, Chartered Accountants, Thomas had to ensure that Toby grasped the significance of his misconduct. He couldn’t actually force him to stop his affair with the unlucky Michael’s young wife, but he could remove Toby from the day-to-day exposure to Michael.

    Michael’s only got six months before he retires, and I want him to enjoy his last few months with us. Furthermore, I want him to appreciate his well-earned retirement. It’s not been easy for him losing his first wife to a brain tumour, and I think he deserves better than this. You, as far as I know, have never suffered a serious heartache in your entire life. You go through women at a distasteful rate and never consider the consequences. Call me old-fashioned if you like, but I have built this company up from nothing, and my long-standing partner deserves more respect than this. I place Michael in high esteem. He paused, breathing heavily.  Thomas was clearly irate.

    Toby tried to remonstrate with Thomas, but the senior partner held up a heavy hand to stop his voice. No, I don’t want to hear any of your protests. Michael is entirely blameless in this and has been caused enough pain already. This is what I am proposing, and you have one of two choices. You either accept, or you decline and leave this company’s payroll. Your work is good, but as associate partner, you are expendable. However, I hope you do accept, as normally, we have a good working relationship, and you have talent and work well under pressure. Also, unlike Michael, you have a good few years before you retire. So, my suggestion is that while Michael works out his six months you take extended leave during this time. A sabbatical if you like. Once everything has cooled down and Michael has retired, you can return and resume your career. Well? What do you say? He put his elbows onto his mahogany desk and continued to glare at him.

    Toby was at first momentarily shocked at this proposal and wanted to argue his case, but something in Thomas’s steely look stopped him. He was an old windbag, and Toby considered it was nothing but a lot of fuss over some little bint. He didn’t considered himself entirely to blame. She was no delicate young virgin and, although someone else’s wife, had given him plenty of encouragement. But he did like working for the firm and knew that Thomas had a full partnership in mind for him later on. So, he held his tongue in check, managed to look contrite, and nodded an acceptance.

    Besides, Toby much preferred the chase, and she had given in far too quickly. It had been all a piece of cake, really. He thought fleetingly of how many other bored young wives there were – wealthy, spoilt, and sitting at home alone. All in all, he considered he had got off lightly. What’s more, he could enjoy six fantastic months all to himself. Excellent! What a bonus, and what fun there was to be had. On leaving his offices, Toby already had a plan formulating in his quick and devious mind.

    His friend, Richard, was in Tenerife, busily preparing his yacht for his forthcoming transatlantic voyage. Toby had spent and enjoyed many a weekend sailing with Richard and his sexy, beautiful wife, Connie. What if he could inveigle Richard into letting him go along as the third crew member? Winter in the Caribbean would be tremendous!

    C h a p t e r  3

    Richard stared at Toby, open-mouthed in disbelief. He had been right all along. Toby never did anything that didn’t benefit Toby in some way.

    Well, what do you say? Don’t you agree it’s a great idea? Toby bent forward in enthusiasm as he placed his empty glass on to the cockpit table.

    Richard caught Connie’s amused look and wondered what she thought of Toby’s bombshell. She didn’t look too concerned or surprised. If he hadn’t known better, he could have almost believed she had known all along. Richard cursed that he had answered the call at all. He should have known as soon as he recognised Toby’s clipped and cultured accent on the line that something was up.

    But Toby, we planned on this being a trip for just the two of us. Surely you can understand that we—

    Sure I understand, but just hear me out, will you? Toby didn’t beat about the bush. It soon transpired that Toby had suddenly found himself with six months’ leave with nothing planned, and wouldn’t it be an excellent idea if he came along and gave them both a hand?

    Richard had to think fast. As friends, they had shared a number of weekends sailing together in the Solent and on occasional trips across to France, with a couple of longer voyages in the summer weeks. Although Toby was only what could be called a weekend sailor, his sailing knowledge was pretty good. He had completed a few training courses, and best of all, Toby didn’t usually suffer from the dreaded mal de mer. As Toby got into his groove, he was certainly very persuasive. Richard also guessed Toby knew with instinctive certainty that he had to convince Richard of his usefulness and his highly significant inclusion to the party.

    You know, Connie isn’t as strong as a man, and she might not relish any heavy hardships encountered on the way. Richard almost laughed as he listened to Toby. He knew his wife would be irritated. Holding himself in check, Richard heeded Toby’s proposal that he would be a valuable asset, and Connie could also enjoy (as they both would) shorter watch hours.

    I know she’ll benefit more this way. Just think. With three people as crew it means we can share the watches, and we’ll benefit from shorter hours and a longer stretch of sleep. Much more civilised than with just the two of you. Don’t you agree? Toby enthused.

    Well, I’m still not sure. It’s short notice. We’ve victualed the yacht for two.  We’ll have to think about it, and Connie and I need to discuss it.

    Connie looked at Richard. Food’s not a problem, as I’ve overbought, I’m sure. She looked over to a smiling Toby. Actually, three could be great fun, and Toby is right. It will be much easier on us. Richard, darling, I know we both have to agree to Toby’s proposal. This is an entirely different scenario now, and as skipper, you have the final say. I like the idea of another pair of hands. What if one of us is ill or injured? It’s hellishly more difficult to sail solo than with someone else helping at your side.

    Connie looked from one man to another with a smile on her face. Despite all she had just said, she knew she had the final say in the matter.

    Richard absent-mindedly ran a hand through his hair. Well, Connie, if you’re quite sure? A renewed feeling of disappointment passed through him as he realised they would never have this unique opportunity again. It was almost as if a part of his lifelong dream was crumbling into dust around him.

    *****

    Richard was hoisted a dizzy fifty-nine feet up in the air. A climbing harness cruelly encircled his loins, threatening any last minute plans for fatherhood, while his chest felt crushed by the extra security rope looped tightly under his armpits.

    Up a bit more. More, more! That’s it, hold it. Stop! he shouted down to Toby, who was on the deck below, manning the electric winches. Toby took an extra turn of the rope round the winch and made it fast in the jammer. He then took up the slack on the second security line and secured it snugly onto a substantial-looking cleat.

    Richard could now change the tricolour bulb at the top of the mast and check the radio antenna at the same time. Toby gazed up at Richard and couldn’t repress a slight prickle of fear. He remembered the one and only time he had gone up the mast himself, when they were anchored off the Isle of Wight in the Solent. It had been a beautiful, hot, sunny summer’s day for once with very little breeze and subsequently very little movement on the water in the anchorage. Halfway up the metal pole, a panicked Toby had clung with his eyes tightly closed. Toby believed he wasn’t a coward at heart, but he vowed never to go up the mast again.

    Right now, he was perfectly happy sitting in the cockpit, obeying Richard’s shouted orders while maintaining a watch on the safety lines. Once this task is finished, it’ll be too late to start anything else, with a bit of luck, he mused. Time for a nice cold beer and discuss where to go for tonight’s dinner. Already, he was enjoying his impromptu holiday.

    Toby stretched out lazily along the teak seating in the cockpit and looked around Tenerife’s Santa Cruz marina. As far as he could see, there were boats tied up alongside the pontoons. It was a large harbour, and motorboats and other yachts surrounded Ellentari. They were all bobbing gently on the slight swell. The light breeze ruffled the oily marina water and set the gaily coloured flags a flutter. Loose halyards tinkled against metal masts, and noisy gulls swooped to inspect debris floating in the water.

    The value of all the moored boats would run into many millions, Toby’s accountant brain thought. What a waste not using them. At least, Richard was utilising his boat to the full. Ellentari was a beautiful yacht and clearly a sound investment. Toby knew good well-built, solid boats kept their value, and this forty-five footer was no exception. He leant further back and looked up at Richard still aloft. With a bit of luck, it was only a bulb that required replacing now and the radio antenna just needed to be more securely screwed in place.

    Okay. Can you turn the tricolour on now, please? Richard called. Toby’s reverie was broken as he climbed down from the cockpit into the boat’s saloon in response. The instrument panel was on the starboard side bulkhead, and reaching over, he pushed the appropriately labelled switch. A glowing red light indicated it was now working.

    Great! That appears to be fine. Turn it off, and then you can lower me down. Slowly, please!

    Toby climbed the companionway ladder back into the cockpit. He adjusted the two lines holding Richard’s life in his hands and slowly paid out the rope.

    Richard landed safely on the deck, deftly untied the safety bowline, and eased himself out of the climbing harness, wincing as he did so.

    Thank God I’ve got that off. It’s not exactly pleasant being trussed up like a chicken! Anyway, that’s a job well done and, for once, relatively simple. Thanks for your help. Perhaps you turning up is a godsend after all, Richard said laughing while coiling and stowing the ropes away.

    His thin, angular face was creased in good humour. Standing up straight, he stood a good six feet three inches, was of slim build, and had a tanned and muscular body. Richard wore his streaked, sun-washed blonde hair short. His tan looked good on him and gave him a far more youthful appearance than his forty-nine years. Women from sixteen to seventy frequently gave him a second glance.

    Good-looking bastard, Toby thought, although he was himself attractive in his own smaller and darker way. Richard’s got the money, time, boat, and a kitten of a wife, whom he doesn’t appear to appreciate as much as he should. Aside from that, he and Richard had been friends for fifteen years, and Toby didn’t begrudge him his current good fortune.

    I think a beer or two on board and then off to the Plaza to find a restaurant, don’t you? asked Richard.

    My thoughts entirely, old boy. The sun must have gone well and truly down by now. I expect Connie would like one too, he agreed, raising his voice a little and glancing towards the aft deck with a huge grin. As he expected a tousled head appeared in the aft cabin hatch. I thought you’d never get round to asking! Just let me finish changing, and I’ll be right with you. She ducked down and both men smiled at each other.

    Never misses out, does our Connie?

    Only when there’s dirty work to be done, replied Richard dryly.

    You relax here for a bit. I’ll go below and get the drinks. Toby clattered down the companionway into the shady saloon. He was in a terrific mood and really looking forward to the sailing trip. Like Richard and Connie, this was his first Atlantic crossing. Toby relished the thought of blue waters, starry nights, and glorious sunsets. Of course, once across and established in the Caribbean, he was sure that rum punches, bikini-clad beauties, and reggae jump-ups would take precedence. There would be no tedious commuting to town from his house in Esher. Toby would enjoy a long break from the machinations of daily office parlance.

    *****

    During dinner, Richard reminisced, remembering the good times Connie and he had faced when they sailed down to the Canaries. They left the Hamble River in September. The time was rather late for a Biscay crossing, but they had been lucky. The gods looked down on them while they experienced a good trip down. For once, the dreaded and notorious Bay of Biscay was calm with hardly any wind, and they found themselves motoring half of the way across. The slow swell coming from the southwest gently buffeted Ellentari as she rose on each small wave before slipping down into the green trough. The sea chuckled down her starboard side leaving behind a long, sparkling, foamy wake. Early each morning, the couple breakfasted on deck and gasped with delight at the huge pods of dolphins and Minke whale which tore across the molten sea towards them. Forty, a hundred, two hundred silver and steely-blue, glistening bodies turning, diving, spinning, and splashing, their toothy grins leering up at them and then lazily flipping over onto their sides and gliding down beneath the meniscus of the deep. It had been a magical moment.

    Putting into a few ports down the west coasts of Spain and Portugal, they had enjoyed the heady, gaudy fiesta in Bayonna, eaten delicious seafood in Cascais, and loved Oporto with its gleaming terracotta roofs. Lisbon was hot and listless, and they detested the foul-smelling river full of effluent from the city’s sewage system. Fewer dolphins escorted them now, nervously staying clear of the fishermen’s nets that crisscrossed the waters down to Cape St Vincent. Rounding that corner and paying off the main, Ellentari had seemingly picked up her skirts and screamed along at nine knots. Richard roared with delight, while Connie snuggled down safely in the lee of the cockpit.

    Lagos on the Algarve was great fun. It had been wall to wall with other yachts preparing for the crossing. Every year, yachts of all sizes took part in a voyage across the Atlantic from the Canary Islands to the Caribbean, arriving in St Lucia or Antigua in time for Christmas.

    Richard was calm and capable – a good dependable sailor. He considered that with careful planning there was no reason that their voyage shouldn’t be straightforward and easily accomplished. It was one of the reasons he had first decided they would sail by themselves, just the two of them. He was, in short, a firm believer of the old adage that a good ship always took care of its crew. This explained why he had spent years studying yacht manufacturers’ brochures and specifications, visiting numerous yacht builders’ premises, checking performance versus comfort and safety, and occupied countless hours crawling in the deep recesses of potential purchases.

    In his younger years, Richard first learnt to sail dinghies on the Isle of Wight. Later, by badgering friends and friends of friends, he had inveigled his way onto various different yachts as crew. He remembered many hours feeling wet and cold and sometimes seasick. But, he maintained, if you could sail in the Solent and cope with everything thrown at you from lousy weather conditions, ferries, tanker ships, idiot motorboat racers, sudden wind changes, huge tidal differences, and the sheer large numbers of craft afloat, then you could sail anywhere. Richard had always worked hard in ventures in which he was most passionate and this presently was sailing. He had focused on honing his skills diligently and with perseverance. Years ago, his father, William, (or Billy, as he was commonly known) had been a sailor in the Royal Navy. Richard remembered most of his father’s experience was gained during World War Two, and Billy seemed reticent when talking about his own exploits. His only advice to Richard was a gruff Don’t enlist, boy! There are plenty of others to do that job. Keep your feet on the ground. Richard listened, but he considered this was where he had the first yearnings to learn to sail and set forth upon the sea.

    The senior William Barker, recently deceased, had been a quiet man, often lost in his own deep thoughts. Father and son hadn’t shared a close relationship, which Richard often regretted. His mother had died during the seventies at a comparatively young age, leaving behind Richard in his twenties, and a much older sister. William had doted on wife and daughter, caring for them with a fierce love and loyalty. When Richard was born, it came as a shock to the tight-knit family of three. Although he was of course loved and cared for, Richard felt as if he was on the outside looking in. He thought this was why he had found it hard to settle down to steady employment and forge a career for himself. Richard drifted from job to job with only a handful of ‘O’ levels as qualifications. Eventually, after many false starts, he had ended up working for a large removal company and became involved in the machinations of a staff buy-out. Richard had a good hunch about this and invested every spare pound he could lay his hands on into buying shares. His hunch paid off. With a new flotation on the stock market, he made a small fortune overnight. He quickly sold his shares and reinvested most of the capital in something less risky. He was then at a loose end. He didn’t particularly want to work for anyone else in some dead-end job, so he decided to renovate his tatty Georgian flat. He found the work satisfying and discovered himself buying another and then another rundown property to completely restore and sell for a tidy sum. Richard bought dozens of books on period property and taught himself how to renovate aesthetically. And so, he suddenly found himself with the title of period property renovator around his neck. Now, years later with considerable funds in the bank and a row of discrete houses rented out to discerning tenants, he was able to buy his first large yacht and fulfil a long-awaited dream. To cross an ocean – the mighty Atlantic!

    Chapter 4

    The morning dawned on Ellentari, and on deck the excitement was palpable. Nobody had slept much, and one by one they rose and dressed within ten minutes of each other. Gathered on deck, a moist November wind ruffled Connie’s hair. She looked alert and full of energy despite only five hours rest.

    I couldn’t sleep, I’m too excited I suppose.

    She smiled at Toby as he came and stood next to her on deck.

    Me too. I thought I’d make some tea and sit on deck until the sun rose. Like some? he asked.

    She nodded. Toby climbed down to the galley and filled the kettle. The slight pop and smell of camping gas rose from below decks. Galley sounds reached Connie: mugs rattling and the fridge box door being opened and closed.

    Richard walked along the deck and stood at the front of the yacht. The tapering bow was gently rising and falling with the motion of the teal-coloured water. He gazed out in the direction of the harbour wall entrance and paused, while leaning against the stainless steel guard rail. A salty, fishy smell wafted up to him from where the water sucked and gurgled. After a few minutes, he walked back to the cockpit and looked at Connie and smiled, the skin crinkling around his blue eyes. He was so excited, he could hardly catch his breath.

    Well, today’s the big day.

    She smiled back and, hugging herself, shivered slightly. I feel just like a child at Christmas. You know, getting up early before anyone else has stirred and knowing that the day was going to be very special. Nobody was up as early as me, except Daddy, and he and I would sit and drink tea – mine was very milky. We’d sit and whisper with our toes turned to the fire which he’d rekindle. We ate chocolate biscuits, a special treat then, and waited until the other sleepyheads woke up and started screeching Merry Christmas!

    Richard was surprised at this picture of her early childhood. Connie was always a very reserved and private person, sometimes almost superficial. Her eyes glowed warmly in the half-light, and she looked up at the lightening sky. She was appealing in an unusual way, her smile never failing to make him feel good even after their fourteen years together.

    Tea’s up. Who’s for a bacon sandwich then? I’m making. Toby reappeared with three steaming mugs and broke into their moment.

    Thanks, said Richard, looking at the sky. It’s a good idea to have breakfast now. We’ll do our last-minute safety checks and ease her out from her berth. There’s no wind to speak of, so it should be dead easy.

    *****

    The engine coughed into life and rumbled gently, while Richard took the wheel. Toby and Connie slackened off the mooring lines and stood ready to fend off if the wind caught her. Richard drove her from her berth and Ellentari slipped from the Santa Cruz marina, ghosting beyond the harbour walls. The familiar chug of the seventy-five-horsepower diesel engine rebounded loudly in the marina confines until they were clear and able to set

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