Ora's Gold Page 22

  ‘What the bloody hell are you doing?’ His teeth flash in the water and sunlight. Not so smiley now.

  I remember who I am.

  ‘Let go!’ I shout and try again to pull out of his grip. I’m not going anywhere. But I fight on.

  ‘Let me go, you dickhead!’ I shout and squirm. A string of profanities flows from my mouth; everything I wanted to say to Slug and Rat. I am kicking my legs furiously, pulling away from him.

  We struggle on. I make up for my weaker body by shouting in his face, at the top of my lungs. I hate him.

  I see Dione before he does. She leaps from the Artemis onto the rowboat, moving fast. He senses her and turns. Surprise loosens his grip and I pull away. She brings the oar down on top of his head. A loud smack rings out across the water and now it is he who slips under.

  Instinct moves me and I grab his chin, bringing him up again. He is heavy. It’s just a couple of strokes to the rowboat. I’m breathing hard. Dione leans over and struggles but manages to get her hands under his shoulders. We move as one. As she heaves, I swim under him and push him up by his buttocks. He is almost halfway in. I grab the side of the boat and when she heaves again, I wedge my shoulder under his side and kick my legs, levering him up. Once his backside is in, she lies him down and swings his legs in quickly.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Her face is close to mine as she leans over.

  ‘I’m fine.’ I am breathing heavily and holding the side of the boat, but I feel okay.

  She looks at me a moment longer before dashing up the ladder and onto the Artemis. He starts groaning and moving his head. She’s back in no time with a rope. Swiftly, she ties his hands and feet. She finishes by tying the end of the rope to the post of the bench.

  ‘Get back on our boat, Ora,’ she orders.

  I’ve been lost in her movements. Everything happened so quickly. It’s starting to catch up with me.

  Obediently, I walk my hands along the rowboat to the Artemis. My legs are wobbly as I climb the ladder. I half fall onto the bench at the far end of the cockpit, out of sight of the rowboat. I am going to vomit. There is the empty bucket we use for our catch of the day. I grab it and some seawater comes up. My insides feel like they’re coming out.

  A terrible pain shoots through me. Dione comes up the ladder as I’m holding my belly.

  Wordlessly she puts one hand below my belly button.

  ‘You’re having a contraction,’ she says, looking concerned.

  ‘This hurts more than a Braxton Hicks,’ I say, grimacing.

  ‘That’s because it isn’t one.’ She goes quickly into the cabin and reappears with her midwife’s bag. A chill goes down my spine.

  ‘Is the baby coming?’ I ask.

  She has put her blood pressure band around my arm and is pumping it up. Holding a finger to her lips, she reads the dial.

  ‘It’s a bit high,’ she says, casting her eyes to the rowboat. Next she picks up her tool that looks like a mini-wooden trumpet and places one end on my belly. She leans over and puts her ear to the other end. She has to move it a couple of times before she finds Gumnut’s heartbeat. I wait, hardly breathing.

  ‘All good,’ she says with a wide smile.

  The pain has gone and I smile back at her weakly.

  ‘Is the baby coming?’ I ask again. I need to know.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she pauses, looking at me hard. ‘Possibly. But it might just be shock. And the seawater. We’ll keep an eye on you.’ She squeezes my shoulder.

  ‘Thanks for saving me,’ I say. As if on cue, Keith starts moaning loudly.

  ‘Shit,’ says Dione. ‘I didn’t think of a gag.’ He moans again, louder this time, and she starts to laugh. We are soon giggling and cackling like a couple of hyenas.

  ‘Shh,’ I say. ‘We’ll frighten him.’ And with that we’re off again.

  ‘He’ll think we’re witches.’ She cackles dramatically. We are made crazy by our adrenaline and our victory.

  More cramps stop me. They hit like a leaden force, pushing at my womb. Into it, out of it, pulling it. I fall silent and breathe through the pain.

  35

  Keith Waterhouse

  After our laughing fit Dione and I retreat to the cabin. I change out of my wet dress while Dione sits quietly. My body has returned to normal and there is no more pain, but I feel different; something has shifted, like I’ve changed gear or something. Maybe it’s the adrenaline subsiding.

  Dione makes us mugs of tea.

  ‘We’ll have to hold him hostage now,’ she says, sounding serious. ‘We could lose everything if we let him go.’

  She’s right. We sip at our hot tea, thinking through this added complication.

  ‘I’d better go check out his head,’ she says after a while, grabbing the first-aid kit and Jake’s spare hat. ‘Can’t have him getting burnt on us.’

  ‘Dione,’ I say urgently. ‘If Gumnut comes soon, will he be all right?’ She looks at me questioningly. ‘Given that it’s a bit early?’

  Dione smiles widely and I am reassured. ‘He’ll be fine, Ora.’ She turns back to the open sky and says, ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

  I breathe a sigh of relief. And then—I can’t help myself—I creep up on deck and move as close as I can to the rowboat without being seen.

  ‘You bitch!’ He’s shouting. ‘You could have killed me!’

  He rants on for ages.

  Dione is better at keeping quiet than I am. I want to shout back at him. How dare he ruin things for us? I peep over the edge to have a quick look. She is sitting at the end of the rowboat, waiting for him to finish venting.

  Finally he stops. After a long silence he says, ‘I should have guessed you were with them.’

  ‘I need to check your head,’ she says, sounding cold.

  ‘Boy, this is a story!’ he says loudly. ‘Man, it’s so good!’ He’s the one laughing madly now.

  When he quietens, there’s a long silence. I have another quick look and see Dione applying something to the bruising. I almost miss what he says next.

  ‘I’m on your side! Don’t you see? The SIF won’t be far behind me.’

  ‘In my experience, journalists are only ever on their own side,’ Dione says. ‘If you keep quiet I won’t gag you, but if you make too much noise you’ll have an old boat rag in your mouth before you can say help.’

  She comes swiftly up the ladder, surprising us both as we lock eyes. She pauses just for a second and then walks straight past me and back down to the cabin.

  About an hour later I have another contraction.

  *

  Jake returns in the late afternoon. I’m waiting for him on the bow of the Artemis. He waves excitedly and is full of smiles. He doesn’t see the rowboat until he is very close. His smile morphs into fury. He rows up to where I’m waiting at the bow.

  I lean over the rail and whisper in a rush, ‘It’s the journalist.’ He looks at me, not understanding. ‘From before. Dione hit him over the head with an oar and he’s tied up in his boat.’

  Jake nods, keeps quiet, and paddles to the end of the Artemis. Dione goes to the ladder and as usual, they unpack the dinghy. Neither of them says a word—they are being watched by Keith, no doubt. I go to help, keeping out of his sight, and see immediately what was making Jake smile. A box with an inflatable child’s paddling pool is amongst the shopping. Jake climbs aboard and sees me looking at it.

  ‘You shall go to the ball, Cinderella!’ He comes over and kisses me, not letting Keith Waterhouse’s presence spoil his surprise. ‘I found it in someone’s hard rubbish. Must have been in a garage for years! As long as we find a hotel with a balcony, we can heat up some of the water for the tub with the solar shower bags and boil the rest in pots on the camping stove.’

  My heart swells with gratitude. He has found a way. I throw my arms around him and kiss him back.

  ‘That’s if we can smuggle everything into the hotel room without being seen,’ Dione says, reminding us of our imminent plans
.

  Jake looks up from reading the measurements on the box and eyes the back of the Artemis. Without saying anything we head down to the cabin. Dione and I explain what happened earlier.

  ‘This isn’t good.’ He’s biting his nails. He never bites his nails.

  ‘We have to keep him with us,’ Dione says. ‘There’s no other way. I’ve been thinking it over all afternoon.’

  She has as much to lose as we do. Maybe more. No one speaks for a while.

  ‘He says he’s on our side,’ I say.

  They look at me like I’m stupid. My womb inflames again. Every hour this has been happening—like clockwork. I am surprised at how similar it is to period pain.

  ‘You all right?’ Dione asks in her midwife’s voice.

  ‘No, she’s quite mad,’ says Jake. ‘And has no idea about journalists.’

  Dione and I exchange a grin.

  ‘We’ll have to keep him captive on the boat until we’re in the hotel. We can put an anonymous call in about him when we’re safely hidden.

  ‘I want to talk to him,’ I say to Jake. I have a plan of my own.

  ‘Again?’ Jake sounds suspicious.

  ‘What else can we do?’ I’m angry with them for looking down on me but I tell myself to keep calm; we have to stick together.

  Nobody says anything. We have reached a stalemate.

  ‘Jake,’ Dione says eventually, ‘Can I have a look at the maps? I’d like to see where we’re at.’

  Her request distracts him—he loves those maps. Maybe she’s thinking about sailing into shore tonight. When he gets up to find them I get up too; to talk to the man who holds our future in his hands.

  ‘I might be a while,’ I say to them both, hoping they understand that I don’t want to be disturbed.

  36

  My Plan

  The sun is setting by the time I step onto Keith Waterhouse’s rowboat. There is no wind, and the sea is calm in the orange glow. He is lying with his eyes closed and looks very uncomfortable, in spite of the blue cushion Dione put under his head earlier. I feel bad that we’ve tied him up like this. It smacks of the SIF—it makes me sick to think I have become like them.

  It’s odd seeing Keith in Jake’s hat. He opens his eyes as I sit on the rowboat’s bench, next to where his feet are tied.

  ‘Hello, Keith,’ I say gingerly with a half-smile.

  ‘Ora,’ he says, with no trace of the sophistication from before.

  ‘I’m sorry about this.’ I don’t know where to look. The sea clunks gently on the side of the boat, water on wood. I hold up my bottle. ‘Would you like a sip?’

  He nods, so I kneel in beside him—there’s not enough space to do anything else—and put the bottle to his lips. He takes great gulps and then nods, signalling when he’s had enough. I want to untie him but I talk instead.

  ‘You know you said before you like a good story?’ I decide to get straight to the point—I’ll lose my nerve otherwise.

  He nods, looking wary.

  ‘And that we could change things, by sharing our story?’ He nods again.

  ‘Well, I’ve got something that tops the fact that you’ve found Dione,’ I say, sounding eager now.

  His eyes open slightly wider in the fading light.

  ‘I’m pregnant. The baby’s due any day now.’ I watch as his eyes nearly pop out of his skull.

  He lifts his head and looks at my centre. I kneel up and flatten my T-shirt against myself. He lets out a slow whistle, eyes still big. I sit back on the bench. How did my life get to be this crazy?

  ‘So,’ I say, ‘as you can see we’ve got a bit of a problem over what to do with you.’

  He nods again.

  ‘If we were evil, we’d feed you to the sharks,’ I say. It’s a bad joke and he doesn’t smile. I carry on quickly. ‘But I have a plan B instead, if you agree.’

  ‘Do I have a choice?’ He smiles wanly.

  ‘If Dione and I tell you our stories—how it all happened for me and why she did what she did—and we let you go, will you give us your word that you won’t print anything until a month from now? That way I’ll have had Gumnut and we’ll be able to disappear.’

  ‘Gumnut?’ he asks.

  ‘The baby.’ I smile, feeling shy.

  ‘And you’ll let me go, just like that?’ he asks.

  ‘I’ve been held against my will before. I won’t put anyone else through that, even if it does put our lives in danger.’

  He looks at me for what feels like a long time.

  ‘Besides, it’s not like we have a spare room. And it can get pretty bitter out here at night.’

  He smiles and stares at our floating home, then looks back at me with what seems like respect. ‘You’ve got yourself a deal, Ora James.’

  ‘Ora!’ Jake barks from the Artemis, making me jump. I turn back and see myself through Jake’s eyes, leaning towards Keith, and squirm inside. I give our hostage a small nod. My legs have gone to sleep so I’m none too steady on the rocking boat as I swivel around and head back up the ladder.

  Jake’s eyes are boring holes into me. I walk past him and step carefully down to the cabin. Dione is waiting for me at the table. The vertical frown mark between her eyes deepens when she sees Jake’s face behind me. I slide onto the bench seat opposite her.

  ‘What the fuck are you playing at?’ Jake says between gritted teeth. He is trying to pace in the low, tiny space. I have never seen him like this. His eyes are blazing.

  ‘How could you?’

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ Dione says, sounding protective.

  ‘She was practically sitting in his lap!’

  Dione looks at me and pulls the weirdest face; a frown, a smile and a question all squished into one expression. My giggles from this afternoon are still echoing inside me and I can feel a laugh rolling its way out, but then I look at Jake. Behind his fury I see a deep current of fear and pain in his eyes and my heart stops.

  I love this man.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say to him. ‘It must have looked all wrong.’

  He sits down on the bench opposite, leans over and holds his head in his hands. He blows a long breath out of his mouth. One of his legs is moving up and down and I can see he’s working doubly hard to manage his anger. I don’t think he trusts himself to speak.

  ‘I was trying to be friendly, Jake.’

  ‘So I saw,’ he snarls.

  ‘I hate that he’s tied up.’

  ‘We can’t let him go,’ Dione says quickly, shaking her head.

  ‘We’re no better than the SIF,’ I say. ‘He’s been tied up for hours.’

  No-one says anything.

  ‘I was giving him some water,’ I say, sounding miserably defensive. I remind myself I haven’t done anything wrong. Jake is acting like I’ve madly pashed him. A kernel of self-righteous anger ignites inside.

  He takes a loud breath in and breathes out again.

  ‘I’m sorry too,’ he says. ‘I overreacted.’ He looks up at me with pained eyes. It dawns on me we’ve never hung out with other guys before, other than Tom.

  ‘He is a bit of a charmer.’ Dione smiles.

  ‘He’s a sleaze,’ Jake says.

  I have another contraction. Dione looks at me. She knows. It doesn’t last long.

  ‘Whatever he is,’ I say, ‘we can’t keep him here forever.’

  I tell them my plan and the three of us argue for an hour.

  I have another contraction. The pain is still bearable.

  ‘You should get some sleep,’ Dione says.

  ‘I need you to agree first,’ I say. ‘Both of you. I think this guy is okay. Yes, he may be a sleaze,’ I look at Jake. ‘But I don’t think he’s going to put us in danger and we really don’t have a choice, unless we throw him overboard tied to the anchor.’

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ Jake quips.

  I am starting to feel so tired.

  Finally they agree. I will talk to him first, and tell him my side of the story. Then Di
one will share hers and he’ll row back to shore with the promise that he won’t publish the story for a month. I persuade them that the sooner we talk, the sooner he’ll be out of our hair.

  ‘Then I’ll go to bed,’ I say to Dione. ‘And once you’ve talked to him he can row his way out of our lives.’

  Jake looks happy about this part of the plan, but is still uncertain about releasing him.

  ‘I hope you’re right about him,’ he says, looking at me intensely. He doesn’t need to tell me that our freedom depends on it.

  Jake goes to untie Keith and Dione makes us some food. The cockpit is the only place where we can all sit, and I wouldn’t want Keith in our cabin anyway.

  We eat in uncomfortable silence. Keith has tried a couple of jokes but Jake and Dione completely blank him.

  It feels like I talk for hours about getting caught and being at the SIF centre. I’m finding it hard to focus. I haven’t had another contraction, but I think my baby is coming. It takes every drop of my willpower to continue talking.

  I will tell Jake when we’re in bed, but for now I hold my secret close. It anchors me as I spill my insides into Keith Waterhouse’s phone. He’s surprisingly gentle as he picks his way through my story.

  I break down when I have to talk about my time at the SIF. Jake holds me and whispers in my ear, reminding me I’m safe now.

  Eventually we stop. Keith’s battery is running low and he’s worried he won’t be able to record Dione’s story too.

  ‘Shit!’ he says forcefully. I realise how much passion he has invested in this story.

  ‘We have a solar charger. You’ll have to recharge it in the morning,’ I say tiredly. ‘I need to go to bed.’ I get up and go down to the cabin. All I can think about is lying down. This has been a huge, long day and reliving my story has churned up too much; it feels like a dust storm has blown through every part of me.

  I lie on the bed and wait for Jake.

  37

  Gumnut

  ‘Are you sure?’ he asks, incredulous, all his grumpiness over Keith dissipating.