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‘Aye.’ Robert’s expression was grim. ‘Any volunteers?’
‘Ten men here. I’ve sent some lads round t’other yards as well so we should get a few more.’
‘It’s a long way and the storm’s not over yet. No one’s under any obligation.’
‘We know that, sir.’
‘Good. Then we’ll meet at the lifeboat station in twenty minutes.’ He glanced down at her for a moment, as if he were on the verge of saying something, before changing his mind. ‘The sooner we get started, the better.’
Chapter Fifteen
Robert kept a tight hold of Ianthe’s hand, muttering under his breath as they hurried along the edge of the harbour wall towards the lifeboat station, a large wooden shed with a steep slipway into the water.
‘The boat’s in here!’ he shouted over the tempest, pulling her into the shelter.
‘Phew!’ Ianthe pushed back her hood once they were inside, revealing red cheeks and glittering eyes.
‘Changed your mind?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Not at all.’
He glowered, knowing it was useless to argue. Insane as it was, he didn’t have a good enough argument to stop her from helping. Just as long as she didn’t do anything crazy like want to go out on the lifeboat itself—which he absolutely would not allow—she ought to be safe enough.
‘There are blankets and medical supplies in that cupboard. We won’t be able to take a cart in this weather so you’ll have to carry everything you need. Hopefully you’ll have some help, but I’ll need some people to carry oars, too. Just remember to wrap up the blankets so they don’t get wet. And walk on the leeward side of the boat for shelter.’
She nodded, rifling through the cupboard and making a pile by the door as men started to arrive. Robert watched for a moment, nodding in approval before turning his attention to the volunteers.
‘Ready?’ He pushed open the doors of the shed with an effort, then shouted directions to the others as they lifted the boat up and carried it backwards out on to the harbourside. Once there, they rested it precariously on its
side, before flipping it over so that the hull was pointing upwards, making it easier to carry. Slightly easier anyway, he thought ironically, counting the number of volunteers. There were twenty-four altogether, himself included, twenty for the boat, another four for equipment. That would have to be enough.
‘All right, lads? Nice evening for a stroll, eh?’ There was a cheer as he took his place at the head of the lifeboat and they lifted it up on to their shoulders, setting off at a crawl.
He twisted his head, trying to catch sight of Ianthe. There was no risk of her not keeping up at such a slow pace. The biggest danger was in the fierce gusts of wind trying to blow them into the harbour. As they reached the bridge, however, he caught sight of her, walking exactly where he’d instructed, holding a huge tarpaulin bundle in her arms. There were a couple of other women with her, too, also carrying bundles. He gave a reluctant smile. Unpredictable and skittish as she was, there was something indomitable about his wife, too. He doubted he’d have been able to stop her from helping even if he’d tried.
They reached the eastern side of the harbour and turned right, away from the steep cliff steps and towards the road that ran along the side of the Esk before curving gently up the hillside. It was a longer route, but they had no choice. The storm was showing no sign of abating and the stone steps were streaming with water. If even one man slipped and fell, the rest might go down with him, dragging the boat down on top of them. He couldn’t risk that.
Instead, they trudged on for what felt like hours, stopping every so often, though not for long. Rest brought no relief, only an increase in anxiety as he looked out at the turbulent sea, thinking of the stricken ship. At least when they were moving, they were doing something. When they stopped, he could feel precious seconds slipping away, seconds that might be needed later. There were only a couple of hours of daylight left and they had to make the most of them.
At last they came within sight of the bay, a secluded cove with a sweeping expanse of sand and rock. At any other time, the view might have been beautiful, but now his gaze was drawn inexorably towards the vessel on the sandbank. It was still in one piece, though barely. Towering waves were pounding the sides as if determined to break them apart, enveloping the rigging in a raging torrent of froth and foam, while the mast was broken already, hanging uselessly over one side as if admitting defeat, though he could see men clinging to it, too, their desperation obvious even from a distance.
The sight seemed to give his own men fresh impetus as they accelerated their pace down the narrow path that led to the beach, going so fast that he had to warn them to be careful. At long last, however, they made it, dropping the boat on to the sand before flipping it over again.
‘Ianthe?’ He hurried over to her as the men distributed oars, needing to make sure she was all right before doing anything else.
She smiled, though her exhaustion was obvious. ‘Aren’t you glad I wear sensible boots now?’
‘Extremely.’ He managed an answering grin.
‘Be careful, Robert. Please.’
He didn’t need any other encouragement, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her with an ardour he hadn’t known he possessed, savouring the taste and feel of her lips until they were both breathless.
‘I will.’
He released her just as abruptly, striding back down the beach and jumping aboard the lifeboat as it launched into the water.
Ianthe watched the lifeboat bounce up and down on the roaring waves, half-terrified, half-enthralled by the sight. It didn’t seem possible that something so small could attempt something so daunting, but it was ploughing through the water like a teetering arrow seeking its target.
