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Chapter Ten

Returning to theDagalien

She’d done just as Magnús had instructed; read until she slept.

Treasure Islandhad swept her away into another world of buccaneers and buried gold, of talking parrots with long memories and secrets they spilled on repeat like a broken record, but the descriptions of churning seas and their uncharted depths had unsettled her too, and she felt herself out on the water again in her own little boat. It was only really hitting her how risky putting to sea all by herself had been.

She could have died out there, and because of Ben? ‘Not worth it,’ she told herself as she’d drifted off, shortly after she heard Jowan letting himself into the cottage and whispering to Aldous, ‘It’s all right, our castaway’s safely home again. Her coat’s there by the door.’

Just knowing Jowan was there, her own pirate Jim Hawkins, one of the good guys, had been enough to send her into a deep sleep.

For breakfast, they’d shared the last of Magnús’s cake and a pot of tea in front of the fire before Jowan announced he had a book-buying trip that morning, now that the storm had abated. He asked if she would like to go with him, but the knock on the door halted their discussion.

‘Hæ hæ,’ Magnús greeted her, holding out the bundle in his arms.

‘What’s this?’

‘You have no clothes. I brought you clothes.’

Alex held the soft jumper to herself. It was thick and long-bodied in creamy white with a deep-blue patterned yoke that swept down over the shoulders. It looked a lot like the one that Magnús was wearing, though his was soft grey and black.

‘It’s alopapeysa,’ he informed her. ‘Traditional Icelandic jumper, very cosy. It’s yours.’

‘Thank you. I’ll give it back—’ She hadn’t finished the sentence before slipping the jumper on over her white rollneck.

‘It’s yours to keep,’ Magnús interrupted. ‘Castaways need to stay warm.’

Thanking him, Alex’s eye was drawn to the white cottages behind Magnús, their walls glaring in the December morning light. ‘The sky has the audacity to be blue? After all that grey?’

Magnús seemed frozen, watching her lifting her long hair out from the neck of the jumper. She may even have swished her locks a little more than was natural, suspecting he was transfixed.

‘Shall we,ah, go to your boat?’ he said with a gulp.

Alex steeled herself with a deep breath. ‘If there’s any of it left.’

After saying goodbye to Jowan, the pair made their way the last few metres down the cobbled slope and onto the harbour wall where the concrete path split away down the beach.

Alex was dimly aware that, being the same height, Magnús naturally matched her stride. Just another way she felt comfortable in his presence and now here she was, wearing his jumper. What was going on here?

Nothing about the last week and a half made sense to her, and to that she could add the pleasant, sparkling sense of liking Magnús’s company to this surprising degree; it was not something she’d experienced with a guy before. She had felt something similar with Eve, however.

They’d hit it off so easily last year, and Alex had always looked forward to their Friday nights at the pub or their stolen chats by the quayside between sailings. They’d laughed like drains and everything had been easy between them, right from day one.Just goes to show how wrong a feeling can be, she reminded herself. It hurt, losing her best friend.

Thinking about Eve made her lose her courage as she approached the boat, not wanting to look but knowing she had to.

‘Oh my!’ Alex stopped dead, gaping at the sight on the shore.

Great piles of kelp and seaweed were strewn across the pebbles, covering almost the whole beach in a gleaming mass of green and gold. Gulls and waders picked through it like treasure hunters hoping for coins washed up in the storm.

Instead of theDagalienlying forlorn on her side like she’d expected, she was astonished to see the boat raised on a roller trailer attached to a beaten-up old Land Rover, and beside it was Tom Bickleigh, lighting a cigarette.

‘Morning!’ he called with a cheery wave as the pair made their way over to him.

‘You did this?’ Alex’s eyes were all amazement. ‘Thank you, Tom!’

‘Me and Monty, at first light. Borrowed Minty’s Discovery.’ He pulled a phone from his pocket, its screen dead. ‘This dropped out onto the beach when we righted her. It’s yours?’

Alex’s face fell as she took it from him and turned it over in her hands. In her haste to leave Port Kernou she hadn’t grabbed a charger so the batteries had run down within twenty hours’ sailing, and in that time no one had called her.

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