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She turned away, unable to bear the sight any longer, searching instead for a sheltered spot on the hillside, somewhere to take the crew once they were rescued, but there was nothing, nowhere, not so much as a dip where they could build a fire. There’d be nowhere to warm them whilst they waited for the carts Robert had arranged to collect them once the storm was over.
‘They’ve reached them!’ one of the other women called out.
‘What’s happening?’ She didn’t dare to turn her head.
‘They’re throwing a line. It’ll take a couple of trips to get them all, I reckon.’
Two trips! Her heart stalled. She could barely stand the tension of one.
‘Is the line holding?’
‘Can’t tell. Wait...’
‘What?’ She whirled around just in time to see a particularly huge wave hit the side of the merchant ship, sending the rigging teetering over precariously. Instinctively, she gripped the other woman’s arm for support.
‘They’ll be swept away!’
‘No.’ The other woman shook her head with an air of authority. ‘That ship’s stuck fast on the sandbank, don’t you worry. Your husband’ll get them back. Look, he’s pulling some of them in now!’
Ianthe watched in agitation as the lifeboat came about, heading back towards the shore with five members of the shipwrecked crew aboard. Once it reached the shallows, she ran with the other women to help, splashing out into the water to help the weary sailors back on to dry land, wrapping blankets around their shoulders as they sank to the ground in weary relief.
‘Does anyone need bandaging?’ She moved between them, passing around a bottle of gin as she tried not to notice the lifeboat bobbing away again.
‘Thank you, miss.’ One of the crewmen grabbed her hand, squeezing it in gratitude. ‘We thought we were done for.’
‘You’re safe now.’ She smiled reassuringly. ‘We’ll get you back to Whitby soon.’
Though exactly how they were going to manage such a feat, she thought anxiously, was a whole other matter. The rescued sailors were exhausted, shivering and probably starving, too, lying immobile on the sand as they watched their sinking ship with expressions of morbid fascination. Some of them looked half-unconscious already. None of them were in any fit state to walk, though if they stayed where they were they’d freeze for certain. Not to mention that the lifeboat crew would be wet and exhausted, too. It was already obvious that the few supplies she and the other women had managed to carry weren’t going to be anywhere near enough. They needed more help and quickly.
‘They’re coming back!’ a sailor called out and she looked up at once. He was right. The lifeboat was swinging around a second time. Just in time, too. The ship looked as though it were about to be snapped in two by the force of the waves. Urgently, she counted the number of heads in the lifeboat, shoulders slumping with relief as she caught sight of black hair.
That was it. She couldn’t just stand there and watch any longer. If they didn’t find help or shelter then all of this would have been for nothing. They’d freeze before the carts ever came for them.
‘I’m going for help!’ she shouted over the wind to the woman standing beside her.
‘It’s almost dark!’ The woman looked at her as if she’d run mad.
‘That’s why I have to go now!’
She grasped her skirts in one hand and made her way determinedly back up the cliff path, walking as fast as she dared. The sky was a mottled dark grey, though the rain had eased slightly, allowing occasional moonbeams to break through the cloud and illuminate the path ahead of her. Her feet felt like lead, but she refused to stop and turn back. There had to be somewhere she could go, someone to turn to for help, even if she had to walk the whole way back to Whitby and demand that the carts follow her at once!
She reached the top of the cliff at last and sat down, straining to get her breath back. Strange how being outside now didn’t bother her. She wasn’t afraid of the open space or the sky or even the wildness of the elements any more. Instead, she let out a sob of relief as she made out the faint shadowy outline of the lifeboat below, finally returning to shore. Robert was safe. Until that moment, she hadn’t truly real
ised how much she cared, but now she knew the full, terrifying extent of her feelings. She hadn’t come to rescue the crewmen, though she’d truly wanted to help. She’d come because the thought of being away from him, of his being in danger without her there to help, had been too much to bear.
She heaved herself back to her feet, turning in the direction of Whitby before spinning around again abruptly, hoping her eyes weren’t deceiving her and she wasn’t simply imagining what she wanted to see—a cluster of lights in the distance, just below her in the next bay. Lights—which meant houses! She started towards them at once, slipping and sliding her way unsteadily down another path as she made her way towards a row of fishermen’s cottages.
‘Help!’ She pounded frantically on the first door.
‘What on earth?’ The door swung open almost at once, revealing a middle-aged woman with a friendly face and curly hair tied up in a scarf. ‘What are you doing out in this weather, miss? Come inside.’
‘There’s a shipwreck!’ Ianthe grasped the woman’s hand desperately. ‘The crew have been rescued, but they need shelter. Help me...please!’
A man emerged out of the darkness of the cottage, already pulling on a coat and hat. ‘I’ll get the others.’
‘There you go, miss.’ The woman smiled reassuringly. ‘The lads’ll go and fetch them. Why don’t you come in and rest? I’m Nancy.’
‘No.’ Ianthe shook her head. She’d no intention of resting, not until Robert was there beside her. ‘I have to go with them.’
