A Thousand Salt Kisses (Book 1 of Salt Kiss series)

><> Chapter Twenty-Nine <><

Bright dropped me off on my jetty and I waved goodbye and thanked him. He had been such a sweetie.

I walked briskly up the stairway and across the garden, I had been outside in the night for a long time now, and I was really quite cold.

I frantically unlocked the door and Maurice bounded over and jumped on me. I bent over and kissed his fluffy head. "Hello Moz!" I cooed to my excitable pooch.

I walked into the living room and saw that my Dad was watching the news and swigging from a bottle of wine.

"Hi Dad," I shouted, as he had not appeared to notice my presence. I rubbed my arms to get warm. "Brrr."

"She's out there in that!" he shouted, raising a hand to the TV. Wine sloshed onto the floor but he didn't seem to notice. His forehead was creased into about twenty lines and he was almost an ashen colour.

I froze as I saw the headlines:

THREE HOSPITALIZED IN FREAK STORM

I suddenly remembered the flickers of light across the ocean and Bright's words: "Don't worry yourself, Miss White. The Storm will stay in the west, I guarantee it."

The mermen had created the storm to stop the boat!

"What do you mean 'she's out in that'?" I asked, panic creeping into my voice.

"Your insane mother got on the boat!!" Dad shouted.

"Why?" I shrieked. "She didn't have to do that?"

"She called me up and said was obliged to personally see that the boat reached its destination," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's so she can impress that cretinous weasel!" The whites of his eyes could now only be seen, so intense was his scorn. 

My heart sank. Could this be more of a disaster?

A picture of a boat came into view on the TV and Dad took a gulp from the bottle and turned up the volume with the remote. I watched on with alarm.

It was huge solid looking tanker but it looked like a flimsy piece of driftwood in the humongous waves that crashed over it.

"Bloody hell," I said. 

I watched the tanker virtually disappear as a wave battered it. White froth erupted around it like a perilous cauldron. This is serious.

Dad stood there rigidly, his ear cocked towards the TV.

"The storm appears to be concentrated on this particular stretch of water," said the news reporter. "Although reports are rolling in that it is also battering the Port - Oh, incoming news, rescue helicopters are moving in. A rescue operation is underway for the passengers of the SKANX waste disposal ship. It is now thought to be sinking due to a penetration in the vessel."

"Oh God," I screamed. Please tell me Mum had managed to get a life jacket. Thoughts began to flood through my mind of Mum trapped in a room full of water, and I began to sob. What if she dies?

Dad smashed the bottle onto the table and marched into the corridor. I watched with horror as he wrenched on his wellington boots, and scooped up his boat keys.

"I'm going to Port Agatha, Crystal."

"Huh, Dad, what?" I shouted. Is he mad? Dad did not answer me, he bolted straight towards the back door.

I chased Dad into the garden, just about managing to tug on my rain coat as we went. I was not going to lose two parents tonight.

"Dad!" I screamed as he shot down the ocean stairway. "You can't do anything Dad!"

He was not stopping for anything, he had ripped off the plastic that covered his boat, and literally pounced onto the wheel.

"Okay, wait - Dad, wait!!" I shouted, leaping in behind him. We sped off in the direction of the mainland and I took a shred of comfort that we were not speeding directly towards the eye of the storm. Maybe Dad hadn't totally lost the plot.

I closed my eyes and prayed that Llyr would sense the devastation he was causing me, and would somehow stop the bloody storm. I trusted he was not aware that my mother was on board, or at least I hoped he didn't. My heart trusted Llyr but my mind seemed to be heading into overdrive and another thought was beginning to manifest itself. Did Llyr and his men rip a hole in that boat deliberately?

***


Once we reached the mainland, I was struck by how calm and settled the weather was, considering the raging storm just miles out of town.

Dad raced over to the taxi rank and knocked on the window of the first car. There was a whir as the window was wound down, and a sour-faced lady's face was unveiled. She wore a black flat cap and chewed gum.

"I need to go to Port Agatha!" he wheezed.

The window abruptly whirred shut again.

"It think that's a 'no' Dad," I said.

Undeterred, he banged on the next drivers window, and received a similar reception.

Dad continued down the queue of cabs, until eventually, after a string of refusals, he reached the last car. He banged frantically at the door. When the window opened, I saw a familiar face. It was Roger the silent skipper.

He recognized Dad immediately.

"Keith!" he exclaimed.

"Roger!" he shouted, now sweating profusely. "I have to get to Port Agatha."

"Watched the news lately?" he asked, a thick furry eyebrow shooting up.

"Yes, that's the whole point!" Dad squawked. "My wife is on the boat."

We heard a click, and realized that he unlocked the door. We scrambled into the back seat gratefully.

"Thank you," said Dad as the engine started up and we pulled out onto the main road that skirted the coast.

"What's your wife doing on the boat then?" said Roger suddenly, about ten minutes into the journey. "Was she doing a protest?"

Dad sighed. "No, she works for SKANX."

Roger looked in the mirror at me. "I hope you've got a good pair of earplugs at home, my dear," he joked.

I smiled wanly in response, and looked out of the window. We were now just around the corner from Port Agatha and the sea was looking surprisingly flat and calm. 

Roger appeared to notice the same thing. "Must have passed," he said.

As we neared the port, I could see a line of flashing blue lights, and my heart rate accelerated. The cab had not stopped but I opened the door and ran towards the ambulances, Dad in close pursuit.

There were people, presumably members of the crew, wrapped in foil blankets, sitting on the curb. They looked pale and traumatized.

"Bloody hell!" breathed Dad.

I looked around desperatelyfor Mum but could not see anyone who bore her resemblance. It mainly appearedto be guys. I looked inside an ambulance and could see that a burly man, dressedin a boiler suit was having his blood pressure measured. 

"Have you seen Sheila White?" I asked, tears running down my face.

He looked up, and nodded. "Yep, she's fine, we all are," he said. "The ship went down, but they've just done a full head-count."

I collapsed into Dad with relief, and he hugged me.  I felt his body slowly relax and he kissed my hair, suddenly a parent again and not a maniac.

"Come on darling, let's go and find her," he said putting his arm around my shoulder and guiding me away from the ambulance. We made our way through the crowds, until eventually under the shadow of an ambulance, I saw a flash of blonde hair.

My heart stopped as we saw her small frame in a foil blanket, and wrapped firmly in an intimate embrace with a tall, besuited man. As they turned to face us, I recognized him immediately.

Mr. Geake.

The SKANX ship was not the only battered wreck that evening. It looked like my parents' twenty-year marriage was about to go down with it.