Whale Boy Read online

  Eugenia came to her senses; shakily, she moved to the middle of the boat and picked up the other oar, fitting it into the rowlock. ‘I can take one,’ she said quietly. ‘We’ll do better that way.’

  They pulled in silence for a few minutes, finding their rhythm, then Eugenia said, ‘You just saved our lives and I was no help at all. I’ll never tease you again.’

  Michael smiled. ‘I couldn’t stand that!’ he told her.

  They rowed on, the rain running down their faces and the spray making their eyes sting; then Eugenia shoved him with her shoulder. ‘Good thing you can row,’ she sighed, ‘’cos you’re so stupid!’

  There was no thought of steering a course. All they could do was try to keep the boat’s nose into the waves, so as not to capsize. They might make it to the shelter of the island if they could just keep afloat for long enough.

  They had rowed for what had seemed like hours, while the sky and sea had a tantrum around them. Sometime after dark the storm had passed and the clouds cleared. The shape of the mountains stood out against the starry sky, and Michael could see that they had been blown south, but not as far out from shore as he’d feared. He pointed the Louisa May towards Morne Matin and rowed, while Eugenia curled up, exhausted, in the bottom of the boat, clutching her bag with the camera and its precious film.

  Michael grew too tired for thinking and rowed almost in his sleep. But some instinct, like the force that brings turtles across thousands of miles of ocean to the little beach where they hatched, worked inside him and brought them back to Cat’s Paw.

  The water close to shore was calm and littered with the flotsam that the storm had stolen and blown into the water: leaves and branches, broken bits of boat and fishing gear. Through this, the Louisa May’s hull shushed onto the sand. Someone gently pulled the oars from Michael’s hands and laid them in the boat. Dimly, Michael came to his senses as So-So helped him out.

  ‘I feel you coming over the sea to me,’ he said. ‘Only So-So awake at this hour watchin’ over people’s dreams – not even Pascal on the beach this long before dawn.’

  So-So helped Michael and then Eugenia up the beach. He sat them down by his little fire, wrapped them each in a blanket and handed them chipped mugs of hot, sweet tea.

  Michael wrapped his hands around the mug. The sugary tea tasted wonderful, and he felt the tangle of waves and wind clearing from his mind. He glanced at Eugenia, and she smiled over her mug and breathed, ‘Glad we’re still alive!’

  ‘Told you we’d make it!’ Michael said softly.

  ‘But you didn’t believe it when you said it.’

  Really, Michael thought ruefully, Eugenia was way, way too clever.

  So-So topped up their tea, and fed them beans, heated in the can on the fire. The children wolfed them down; nothing had ever tasted quite so good in all their lives.

  ‘It’s getting light,’ Eugenia said. ‘I must go to my cousin’s house. She won’t cover for me if she wakes up and finds I didn’t get in last night.’

  She got up, thanked So-So and gave him back his blanket. She looked completely recovered, just a bit damp still. Michael was amazed; he felt his legs wouldn’t quite support him if he tried to stand up.

  Eugenia leaned down to say goodbye. ‘I’ll see if I can get the film developed today,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll talk at the Flying Fish tonight.’

  Then she was gone, running down the coast road under the streetlights.

  Michael ate two more cans of beans and several mugs of extra-sweet tea, and began to feel better.

  ‘You are not quite restored, my brother star,’ So-So said, looking at him keenly. With a single deft slash of his machete, he opened a coconut and handed it over. ‘Drink now. Drink. Then sleep!’

  But Michael’s mind was too wide awake for that. ‘I’m far on the other side of sleeping now, So-So.’

  ‘Then, Samuel’s boy,’ he said, ‘we will talk. Quiet quiet so you mind is not troubled.’ He put some more sticks on the fire, along with two more cans of beans.

  ‘Now,’ he began, his expression both stern and kind. ‘Here are some things I know: that I promise Samuel I will keep you safe. And here you are, all but drownded in a storm. That you would not steal a boat, and yet this boat you couldn’t pay for. What I wonder,’ So-So went on, his head on one side, ‘is what does the person who give you this boat want in return?’

  As always, he somehow knew the truth at the heart of things. Michael considered telling him all about Spargo, but So-So would worry too much, so he said, ‘Too much – so today, as soon as I’ve been to see my gran, I am taking this boat back. Then, So-So, you won’t need to worry.’

  So-So put the end of one finger on Michael’s forehead and said sternly, ‘I can see see just how much worry I do need, and I see you cannot take back this boat without engines. So I will fix the outboards.’

  Michael clasped So-So’s hand as he’d seen his father do many times. ‘Thanks, my friend,’ he said. ‘Thanks!’

  He walked down the coast road as the light spilled over the top of the island. He would go and see his gran; then he would go to Golden Cove and drop off the boat and leave a note in the tin on the fridge, saying that he no longer wanted to work for Spargo and his pretty boss.

  15

  It was hours too early for visiting time. Michael took the lift to the third floor, and went straight to Gran’s room before anyone had a chance to tell him off.

  She was wide awake, sitting up and looking out of her window. He could see at once that her mind was as clear as the new day.

  ‘Michael!’ She beamed at him and then immediately frowned. ‘Why aren’t you getting ready for school? Your clothes are a disgrace, boy!’

  For a second Michael’s mouth opened like a landed jackfish; then he remembered what Eugenia had said about the holiday. ‘It’s half term, Gran,’ he said. ‘No school today. I’m going fishing with Mr Loubière at Cat’s Paw. Get some fish so I can grow some more!’

  ‘Oh Michael!’ Gran smiled at him. ‘You grow any more you won’t fit in the house. Come now, sit here.’ She patted the bed, and obediently Michael perched beside her.

  ‘I love this room, this view,’ she said. ‘Look at how beautiful it is!’

  The window framed the treetops of the Botanical Gardens, which glowed in every gorgeous shade of green in the bright early sunshine. Below them, the little houses stretched around the blue of the bay, and beyond that you could see the curve of the wooded headland to the south. Gran was right: it was beautiful. Michael looked into her face, lit up with delight, and thought how little time there had been in Gran’s life to sit and enjoy the beauty around her.

  ‘I’m so grateful to Davis for paying for this,’ she said. ‘He was a wild, wild boy, but it proves he came good in the end. I wish he’d come here. And Samuel . . . I want to see my sons.’ Gran never cried, but now her eyes were shining with tears.

  Michael wished her sons, especially her younger son, would come too. But he didn’t know what to say except, ‘I’m here, Gran.’

  ‘You are. You are,’ she said. ‘And Sister Taylor told me you paid my first hospital bill. I dread to think how you did that. Not swimming with sharks, I hope, Michael?’ She glanced sideways at him, her eyes sharp and enquiring.

  Michael had to look away. For the first time he felt truly ashamed of the bargain he had made with Spargo. All along he’d known something was wrong.

  A trolley was clattering along the corridor, bringing the patients their breakfast. ‘You better go, Michael,’ Gran said. ‘That Nurse Martinez who brings our breakfast is a terror. She scares me!’

  Nothing and no one had ever scared Gran, but now she seemed so tiny and frail.

  ‘Bye, Gran,’ Michael said. ‘Take care!’

  ‘No, you take care. I worry about you.’ And she looked right into him – so far it hurt.

  Michael smiled his best smile and hurried out. He didn’t want her to see him cry.

  Outside the hospital he looked o
ut at Rose Town. The streets were strewn with leaves and flowers that the storm had thrown about. It gave the place a sweet, rather innocent feel, as if the roads and houses had just arrived in the middle of a garden.

  But down at the Marine Exhibition Centre the cranes clanked and the jackhammers shouted, as Spargo’s construction, with its giant metal tank, took over the whole of the waterfront. It was certainly big enough to hold a whale.

  Suddenly, just returning the boat and walking away with a few pictures of Freedom and his family wasn’t enough. Michael decided he must find out for certain what Spargo planned so that people could stop it before it happened.

  He would tell the old man that he had found the whales; even take him to find Freedom. This would be the bait to draw him out so that he would show who, and what, he really was.

  It was still early enough to catch Spargo at the Rathborne. Michael slipped past the doorman and left a note at reception saying he had swum with a good friend and met some family. Meet at Golden Cove?

  Then he bought batteries from the shop next door to the bakery on Marlin Road, and ran all the way back to Gran’s house. Under her bed, in a paper-covered box, he found what he was looking for: the small cassette tape player Samuel had bought her years ago that she had never used. He inserted the batteries, said, ‘Testing, testing,’ into its little microphone a few times, and played it back. It was a shock to hear his voice; it didn’t sound a bit like he expected, but it proved that the thing worked. He shoved it in his sweatshirt pocket and went back to Cat’s Paw.

  So-So had worked his magic and was patting the engines, which were now back on the boat. ‘Easy fix!’ he said with a smile.

  Samuel had always said that So-So was the finest mechanic in Liberty, if only people knew it.

  They didn’t speak any more as they launched the little boat. But just before Michael was about to start the outboard, So-So looked keenly into his face. ‘I am here, star brother. Always here. Remember.’

  For all So-So’s strangeness, Michael was grateful for this; he smiled at So-So and clasped his hand quickly before puttering quietly away. As he left Cat’s Paw behind, he remembered he’d left the bait box with the compass and the log book by So-So’s fire. It didn’t matter – he wouldn’t need them today. He headed straight out until he was far enough from watching eyes to be just another boat shape against the bright surface, then turned north, towards Golden Cove.

  Michael had never seen any other boats moored in the cove, but now there were four big, powerful motor boats moored side by side at the jetty, all black, with tinted windows. They looked like weapons. The sight of them made him want to leave his boat and run, but it was already too late for that. Spargo was waiting on the jetty; he pulled the Louisa May close with a boat hook and secured her mooring line. Then he ordered Michael out.

  ‘I take it you’ve found us a whu-ale?’ Spargo said when Michael was standing next to him.

  Michael nodded. ‘Up north, almost in the channel.’

  ‘You were out there yesterday in that storm?’ Spargo exclaimed.

  ‘For part of it,’ Michael said coolly. He wanted to appear as calm and capable as possible, when really his heart was racing and the cassette recorder sat heavy in his pocket. A figure stepped out of the shadow of the boathouse and came towards them.

  Michael recognized her as the woman who’d got out of Spargo’s car at the Rathborne: JJ in person.

  ‘JJ, meet Michael Fontaine,’ said Spargo.

  The woman was older than he’d thought – about Mrs Thomson’s age – and was dressed in jeans and sneakers. She was pretty, but her face was stony, as if it didn’t know how to smile. It reminded Michael of the Siamese cat that a neighbour had once owned. He’d often watched the creature solemnly chewing up small birds with the same expression that JJ now wore. But just as Spargo concealed his cold nature with forced jollity, so JJ too smiled at him now.

  ‘It’s nice to meet you!’ she said. She spoke quietly, and her hand, when he shook it, was small and soft. Once again Michael had the feeling that somehow he knew this woman. It was very disconcerting.

  ‘So,’ JJ went on, ‘are you going to take us to meet your whales?’

  ‘I can try!’ said Michael, giving her his best fish-selling smile. ‘I’d like to hear more about NME’s plans for the whale watching too!’ He tried to sound casual, but he noticed JJ looking at him carefully, as if someone had told her about bait having hooks inside as well. He began to think that his plan to entice them to talk about their real plans and to secretly record them was ridiculous, but it was too late to turn back now.

  ‘Right, then,’ said Spargo. ‘Let’s get going, shall we?’

  Spargo and JJ climbed aboard the Louisa May with all their gear – waterproofs, cameras, food, and a walkie-talkie too. Bigger boats had radios to summon help from shore if they got caught in bad weather or if an engine failed. But most island fishermen couldn’t afford such a luxury. If you got into trouble, you got yourself out of it or you drowned, like Michael’s grandfather had.

  ‘I have every confidence in your abilities as a skipper, Michael,’ Spargo explained. ‘But with a lady on board we must be able to summon assistance if we need it, eh?’

  As they cast off, he tested the radios and held a brief conversation with someone on one of the big motor boats.

  ‘On standby, sir,’ the voice on the radio crackled.

  ‘Await instructions. Out,’ Spargo replied.

  Michael wondered what that meant. It sounded ominous. Another of Gran’s sayings surfaced in his mind: Swim with sharks and you get bitten.

  Well, he was swimming with two sharks now, that was for sure.

  16

  With all the extra weight, the Louisa May made slow progress. JJ and Spargo sat quietly on either side of the bow, obviously used to boats. JJ was definitely the boss. It was strange to see big, square Spargo bending his head to listen respectfully to her.

  Michael played the part of boatman and ‘whale guide’ as best he could. He steered extra carefully, as the sea further from shore was still rocking and rolling a little after the storm. He pointed out landmarks, birds, a turtle, a distant school of dolphins, talking loudly over the noise of the engine to get their attention. Neither Spargo nor JJ took much notice.

  Quite a way south of the places where he’d seen Freedom, he reached into his pocket to turn on the recorder, knowing the engine would cover the click. Then he brought the Louisa May to a stop.

  ‘Why are we stopping here?’ Spargo asked.

  Water slapped the bottom of the boat, but otherwise there was a silence that made Michael nervous.

  ‘I’d like to hear more of your plans before we go any further.’

  ‘Are you trying to bargain with us?’ JJ asked.

  ‘No. I just want to know a bit more before we get to where I usually find the whale,’ Michael blustered.

  ‘Usually?’ snapped Spargo. ‘So you’ve found whales more than once, have you! You’ve been keeping that from me, lad. Not what we agreed at all!’

  ‘Nor was taking that girl in the boat yesterday,’ said JJ.

  Once again she looked like a cat who’d caught a bird. She moved to sit beside Michael in the stern. Of course, he’d forgotten: the construction workers had seen Eugenia.

  ‘It was just fishing,’ he told them. ‘I never told her about the whale.’

  Spargo now moved from the bow so that he too was sitting close to Michael on the other side of the tiller. It was as if the pair of them had planned to do this.

  ‘You see, Michael,’ Spargo said, ‘I don’t think you have been quite honest with us. I’m not sure if you’ve seen a whale or not, and if you have, who you’ve told. But I am sure you have some information we need. I’ve been waiting for you to give me that information. But now we’re going to have to take it.’

  JJ reached into her bag and pulled out a curved sliver of silver on a chain. She held it up for Michael to see the sperm whale’s tail, and the tiny
writing. He knew at once that it was the other half of his medallion.

  ‘Such an honest boy!’ JJ said. ‘I can see from your face that you know exactly what this is. Your uncle – or should I say, my brother-in-law – gave this to me. Well, I took it, anyway, when he was dead.’

  Michael stared at her.

  ‘Yes, that’s right, Michael,’ she told him. ‘Your long-lost mother. You don’t seem very happy to see me.’

  That’s why she had seemed familiar. Deep down inside, his baby self remembered her, his mother – the mother who had left him almost as soon as he was born.

  And now she said that Davis was dead. So who had rung the hospital? Who had sent those cards at Christmas? Michael’s heart felt as if it had swollen to fill his chest. Breathing was difficult.

  ‘Where is the other half of this medallion?’ JJ’s voice was still quiet, but razor-sharp.

  All along . . . all along, when he had thought he was laying a trap for these two, he’d been walking into the one they had laid for him.

  ‘My dad’s got it,’ he managed to say.

  ‘No’ – JJ shook her head – ‘he hasn’t.’