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Gradually the Norths gleaned information. The lifeboat had headed out to rescue a crabbing vessel with engine trouble. It was being swept towards Devil’s Teeth, the deadly rocks after Devil’s Cove between Speedwell and Tawcombe, when the captain radioed for help late afternoon.
A helicopter had been despatched to help try to lift the fishermen off, as the lifeboat couldn’t get close enough to send out a line. The winds were too high for the winch man, the mists too thick, so the helicopter had abandoned its efforts, the pilot grim-faced with frustration and despair as he headed back inland.
It was just the two boats now, one desperately trying to come to the aid of the other in terrible conditions. No one on shore had any way of assessing the success of the mission. They just had to wait, and hope. Everyone on the quay was linked to someone out there: a husband, a father, a brother, a son.
A lover. Nikki looked down at the wet cobbles and drew her coat round her. She was shivering with shock, not knowing where to direct her prayers. She looked up to see Jess, her face wet with tears and rain. She had to stand by her sister. People would think it was strange if she didn’t. She walked over and tucked her arm in hers. Jess turned and there was an expression on her face that Nikki would never forget as long as she lived. Terror and anticipatory grief and bewilderment: this was the woman who took control in A & E when there was a crisis, who kept a cool head, rallied her troops and dealt with casualties with swift and good-humoured efficiency. But now, she was at a total loss. Everything was beyond her control. She had no resources to deal with the crisis. Nothing she could do or say would change the outcome. They were all at the mercy of the weather and the sea: a co-dependent duo whose mood could turn on a sixpence. Only they could choose who to save.
They waited all night. Along the coast path, rescue services and groups of local men roamed the clifftops, shining their beams out in the hopes of catching a glimpse of someone or something to give them hope. The wind toyed with them, merciless and cruel, aided and abetted by the rain, a pair of bullies, hellbent on some pointless mission with no benefit to them or anyone else.
With every hour that passed, hearts grew heavier. Sending another craft out to help would be senseless. They all knew that if rescue was possible, the crew already out there would make it happen. They had the gear, the knowledge, the skills, the courage.
All they needed was luck.
A churlish dawn arrived, dragging a reluctant sun onto the scene as the wind left in a fit of pique, as if it had found something more interesting to do. After a while, the rain stopped too, as if it had needed the wind as its ally. Lifeboats from further up the coast were launched.
Nikki waited, shivering, arm in arm with Graham.
‘I wanted to join the lifeboat,’ he said. ‘But Dad wouldn’t let me. Said it wasn’t fair on Mum, for us both to be in it. He said I could join when he retired. If he’s gone,’ he said, and Nikki’s eyes filled with tears as her little brother tilted his chin up defiantly, ‘I’m joining straight away. No one can stop me.’
‘No one will stop you,’ Nikki whispered. She glanced over to her mum and Jess. The dread on the harbour was palpable now. Keiran had been up all night and was sending out tea and more coffee and bacon rolls. They went largely untouched.
As calm descended, the sea began to offer up clues as to what had happened. The broken hull of the fishing vessel. An empty life raft, still buoyant, bobbing around as if offering help, too little too late. And finally, the first of the bodies. Seth Pickering, the youngest member of the crew. A keening sounded on the harbour as his relatives were told. Above, seagulls mimicked their cries, heartless.
A terrible roll call unfolded throughout the morning. A tight band squeezed itself around Nikki’s heart. How was she going to survive this? She had to, for her mum was going to need her. And Jess too. She felt her father’s presence, his kind, reassuring voice in her head. ‘You’re going to have to look after them all for me, Nik,’ he told her. ‘You’re the strong one.’ And as much as she felt his presence in her soul, she knew he had gone, for he would be here by now if he could be. He wouldn’t keep them all waiting like this. He was solid, redoubtable, their rock.
And then she saw the police car glide along the quay, and the chief constable get out, his face carved from stone, only his eyes moving as he searched amongst the crowds. And she saw her mother turn and catch sight of him. Helen drew herself up and set her shoulders square, holding her head high as he began to walk towards her, her fists bunched to stop her hands trembling.
Nikki grabbed Graham’s hand and pulled him along until they reached Helen’s side just as the chief constable reached out and touched her on the shoulder in a gesture of condolence.
‘They’ve found him,’ her mother said to them. Only for a second did her composure slip. Her eyes flickered for a moment, her lip gave a slight quiver, then she steadied herself. ‘They’ve found your father’s body. We should be proud for what he did.’
‘My sincere condolences,’ said the policeman. ‘He was a true hero.’
Helen reached out to Graham and pulled him to her. Her son. Her baby.
‘Where’s Rik?’ Jess demanded. ‘You’ve got to find him. You’ve got to find Rik.’
‘We are doing our best.’
Jess began to whimper, her face in her hands, and Nikki grabbed her, wrapping her up in her arms, holding her as tightly as she could. Only by burying her face in her sister’s shoulder could she smother her own emotions. Her father, her wonderful father, gone. And Rik out there somewhere, his beautiful body being tossed around by the waves. Both of them, dying a hero’s death, never questioning their duty. Nikki imagined them on the deck of the lifeboat, working as a team with the others against all odds, the men on the fishing boat their only concern, braving impossible conditions, never giving up.
She looked up and met her mother’s gaze. ‘Let’s go home,’ she said to her, and Helen gave a nod. Mariners was waiting for them.
They linked arms, the four of them, Helen, Nikki, Jess and Graham, and walked all along the quay, passersby reaching out as they saw the unmistakable grief on the North family faces: a squeeze of a hand, a murmured condolence, a bowed head.
Mariners was ready. It knew. It had warmed itself in anticipation and drew them into its heart. Somehow the kettle was boiled, the brown pot filled, mugs appeared. Graham curled up in his dad’s armchair, his shoulders shaking as he wept silent tears.
‘I can’t do this,’ said Jess, standing in the middle of the room, her hands at her sides. Her voice was desolate.
For a moment, Nikki wondered if Rik had escaped, somehow. That he was going to use the disaster as cover to run away. That he would eventually send a message to her from somewhere, to come and join him. So they could be together without anyone ever knowing what they had done.
She was horrified by her thought process. How selfish could she possibly be, thinking of herself at a time like this? Even if it did happen, she could never leave them all. Not now. Not now William had gone. She felt a wave of grief engulf her, more powerful than any of the waves she’d seen the night before. She took in a deep breath, and Helen turned to see what the noise was, for it came out as a low moan, and the sobbing followed, uncontrollable, wrenched from deep inside her. It took over her whole body, turning her inside out, and she could barely stand, almost sinking to her knees before her mum came to catch her.
She breathed in Youth Dew and Persil and the last hug her dad had given her mum, traces of him still lingering on her jumper, for they had endlessly embraced each other, her parents. And she tried to remember the last time she’d hugged him herself. Had she hugged him yesterday morning before she’d left the office? She couldn’t remember because at the time all she’d been full of was anticipation, the thought of that lean, brown body on hers. Panic clawed at her as she tried to remember their last exchange. Was it when she’d handed him a coffee in his Doctor Who mug and he’d asked her when the new set of ladders was going to arrive? She’d promised to chase them, and then forgotten. How could that have been their last conversation?
She was never going to see her dad again.
The doorbell drilled through the house. Jess jumped up and flew out into the hall before anyone could stop her, as if she expected Rik to be at the door. And of course he wasn’t. His body, too, had been found by one of the lifeboats. It was being brought back in.
