‘Happy Father’s Day.’ Becca and Bea danced into the bedroom brandishing cards and a beautifully wrapped parcel.
‘Wake up, Daddy.’ Bea stuck a finger in her sleeping father’s ear and twisted it.
‘Get off me, you stupid maid,’ growled Mickey, grabbing her wrist and pushing it away from him.
‘Ow-wer. That hurt.’ Bea retreated in a sulk. ‘I was only playing.’
‘Don’t be such a wuss,’ said Becca, taking her sister’s place and putting her hands either side of her father’s pillow, squashing it up over his cheeks. ‘Get. Up. Dad. We’ve got cards and a present.’
Loveday lay still, on her side. Her back to Mickey, as she had done for the last couple of days. She’d managed to get home with no more dramas, but today there was no avoiding him.
She felt the mattress move as Mickey sat up against his pillows and the girls settled themselves in any space on the duvet they could find.
‘What’s this, then?’ she heard him say. ‘Where are my ugly daughters and what have you two done with them?’
‘Just open the cards. Mine’s the funniest,’ Bea said.
Loveday listened as an envelope was opened and Mickey read out the message. ‘Dad, you’re like an old fart, you never know when to leave. Happy Father’s Day, Love from Bea.’ The girls giggled. ‘Well, that’s charming. Lovely sentiments. Thank you Bea.’
‘Open mine now,’ said Becca.
There was another rip of an envelope, then, ‘To my dear Daddy, you are my star to guide me home, my hug to stop my tears and my fat wallet when I haven’t got any money. Love you Daddy, Becca. Well, I must say the quality of greetings cards is going up. Thank you, girls.’
‘Now open the present,’ the girls chorused.
Loveday opened her eyes and looked at the clock. Just after eight. How was she going to get through today? She turned over and smiled at her family. ‘Morning, girls. Happy Father’s Day, Mickey.’
‘Thank you, darling.’ He leant over and kissed her. ‘Look what our special little daughters have got for me.’ He shook out a T-shirt which had printed on the front the torso of a very muscly man with a six-pack and huge biceps. On the back was written the legend ‘Welcome To The Gun Show’.
‘It’s ’cos your muscles don’t show,’ explained Becca.
‘I’ll show you muscles.’ The girls shrieked as Mickey grabbed them and began a play-wrestle.
Loveday got out of bed and padded downstairs to the kitchen to make the traditional Father’s Day breakfast.
The drive over to Tide House was noisy. The girls and Hal, in the back of the car, were squabbling over some shared earphones. Mickey, wearing his new T-shirt, was driving. The late June sun was warm and the hedges alive with sea pinks and foxgloves. Loveday knew each bend and dip in the lane. Here was Foxy Loxy Corner, named after the night they saw a fox sitting right there in the field. Next came Owl Stone, where most nights a tawny owl would sit, rotating its head with exorcist flexibility. And now, as they breached the hill in the lane and turned right, beneath them appeared Tide Cove. The sea sparkled and flashed in the sun. A small fishing boat with a scarlet wheelhouse was bobbing on a yellow buoy a little way off the beach. Loveday could see two figures on the sand, pushing a rowing boat into the waves. She dropped her sunglasses onto her nose and took slow, deep breaths. She needed to get this day over and done with.
*
‘Hello, hello!’ said Greer, greeting them at the steps of Tide House. ‘The boys are taking provisions from shore to ship as we speak. Hal, would you and the girls like to take a couple more things down to them? Saves your mum and me.’
A box of Coca-Cola tins and some Tupperware containing sandwiches and cake were handed over.
Greer watched as the three trooped off and then turned to Mickey and Loveday. ‘Happy Father’s Day, Mickey.’ She hugged him and then kissed Loveday. ‘Aren’t we lucky with this weather! Either of you want a cup of coffee and a pee before we set off?’
Loveday tried to pull her mood up to match Greer’s relentless cheerfulness. It had been Jesse, of course, who’d suggested that they all get together for a big fishing outing on this Father’s Day. The two families had never shared the day before, and Loveday was sick to her toes with anxiety.
‘We’ll have a coffee with you,’ said Mickey, putting his arm around Loveday. ‘Won’t we, darlin’?’
*
Greer swallowed the last of her coffee and began filling a bag with a camera and a bottle of sunscreen. ‘Got everything?’
‘I’ll just nip to the loo,’ said Loveday.
Mickey watched her go then said quietly, ‘Does she look all right to you, Greer?’
Greer thought for a moment. ‘I think so. Why?’
‘I dunno. She’s been quiet. Not herself at all.’
Greer searched for and found her sunglasses. ‘In what way?’
‘Tired. Quiet. D’you think it’s the menopause?’
Greer pulled a face. ‘She’s only in her early forties. I shouldn’t think so.’ She looked at Mickey more carefully and saw the anxiety in the lines around his eyes and in the slump of his shoulders. ‘Maybe get her to see the doctor? She might be anaemic or need a tonic.’
They heard the flush of the downstairs loo and Mickey stood up in readiness. ‘Thanks, Greer.’
*
The three of them walked down the lane and through the dappled shade towards Tide Cove. Years ago it had belonged to a syndicate of lobster fishers, long since dead. Ever since, this had been Freddie and Hal’s playground. This is where they learnt to fish for bass off the beach, sail a small dinghy, and now put down their own lobster pots from the Sand Castle, the little boat with the red wheelhouse that Jesse had bought for family fishing trips.
Loveday saw Jesse and her heart sank. How was she going to get through this day?
‘All aboard the Skylark,’ called Jesse jauntily. Loveday stared at him with a frown. How was this man able to change from a snivelling wreck to playing happy families? ‘Hurry up. The kids will have eaten everything.’ He was up to his knees in the waves, his old pink canvas shorts wet on the hem. He was holding the rowing boat for the latecomers. ‘Greer, did you bring my specs?’ he asked.
‘No. Why, haven’t you got them?’
‘I wouldn’t ask you if I had them, would I?’
Greer looked at Loveday and raised her eyebrows in infuriation. ‘Men.’ Then she called back to Jesse. ‘Have you checked the pocket of your smock?’
His smock was tied round his shoulders; as he undid the arms and swung it round to check the pouch, a pair of glasses slid out and splashed gently into the light surf. ‘Bugger,’ he said and bent to retrieve them.
Loveday was feeling a sense of panic. ‘Look, I’m really not feeling too good. Would you mind if I went home, only I think I’ll be a terrible hindrance to you all.’
‘What’s the matter, love?’ asked Mickey, all concern.
‘Just a headache and a bit of flu maybe.’
Jesse had pulled the boat up and beached it. ‘What’s this? Not well, Loveday?’
‘No. I’m so sorry.’
‘You were fine on Friday.’
The memory of Friday and the car stopped on the moor came slicing through her brain.
‘Friday?’ said Greer.
Loveday answered hurriedly, ‘I helped Jesse with that computer thing in Newlyn.’
‘Oh, right.’ Greer was already uninterested. ‘Will you be ok to get yourself home?’
‘I’ll be fine. So sorry to be a party pooper.’ She kissed Mickey, who held her tight and whispered, ‘You sure you’re all right? I don’t mind coming home with you.’
‘No, darlin’. Enjoy the day.’
‘Don’t I get a hug and a kiss for Father’s Day, Love-day?’ asked Jesse, smiling innocently, with his arms held wide.
‘Yes, of course. ’ She stepped forward and he surprised her by picking her up in a bear hug and lifting her off her feet. The smell of him made her want to kill him. He put her down. ‘That’s better. See you later. You’ll be having lobster for your tea if we catch any.’
*
Freddie was already in the wheelhouse when the rest of the party boarded. ‘Right little fishes,’ he laughed, turning on the engine, ‘we’m coming to get you.’
He turned the boat away from Tide Cove and pointed the nose to the horizon. ‘Hang onto your hats!’ He pushed the throttle forward and the sturdy boat roared through the smooth sea, while Jesse cracked open the beers.
*
Greer was lying in the bow, face in the sunshine, relaxed in the company of her boys, enjoying a rare moment of complete indolence. Jesse and Mickey were fast asleep. Freddie was at the wheel, manoeuvring the boat into a better position from which to drop the lobster pots. The regular chug of the motor was soporific. She thought she might just close her eyes for a moment.
A changed engine note crashed suddenly into her consciousness – a strange and horrible sound that made her stomach lurch with fear. She leapt up, dashing to the stern. Freddie had stopped the boat and joined her; they shared a mutual glance of sick dread before they looked down towards the water.
It was Greer shouting for Jesse that woke Mickey.
‘Jesse! Jesse! There’s blood. Oh shit. Oh God. Freddie, get in the water, quick; hold his head up!’
Mickey sat up, immediately alert, and saw Greer hanging over the stern, clearly struggling to hold onto something. ‘Jesse!’ she screamed now in a shrill pitch that finally woke him. He and Mickey got to Greer within seconds of each other. As they too looked over the back of the boat, they saw Freddie, white faced and frightened, hanging onto the unmoving body of Hal.
‘Hal!’ Mickey was screaming now. ‘What the fuck’s happened? Hal!’ His training on the lifeboat had given him the ability to assess a casualty with speed. Most of Hal’s left side was submerged, but Freddie was keeping Hal’s head and shoulders out of the water. Mickey could see a deep cut on the left shoulder and similar wounds to the left side of his chest.
‘Pull him up!’ Jesse somehow managed to lean as far over the boat as he could without falling in and got an arm around Hal’s body.
‘Push, Freddie,’ Mickey ordered.
‘I’m trying to,’ Freddie sobbed. Slowly Hal’s right side was lifted from the water and Freddie, with God-given strength, managed to get him to a height where Jesse and Mickey could take Hal’s weight.
Then Mickey saw. ‘His arm,’ he cried in horror. ‘His arm. Where’s it gone?’
*
Loveday was waiting at the hospital as the air ambulance landed. Through the glass wall of the A&E department she saw several medics running with a trolley towards it. She turned to the policewoman who was waiting with her. ‘Can I go to him?’
The constable took her hand but shook her head. ‘He’ll be in the building any minute.’
Loveday felt nothing. Her body was standing, but she was floating near the ceiling. She saw herself wide-eyed and numb. No tears. But she was clenching and unclenching her hands. At last the double doors were pushed open and the trolley carrying Hal went past her. She followed and listened. ‘Young male. Aged twenty. Left arm severed by a boat propeller. Losing blood.’
‘Loveday!’ It was Mickey running towards her. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He was crying. ‘I’m so sorry. I was asleep. He was swimming. I don’t know how it happened.’ He collapsed into her arms and she watched from the ceiling as she comforted him, still following the trolley carrying Hal. ‘It’s OK, Mickey. He’s still with us. He’s still with us.’
They were stopped from going into the emergency room. A handsome male nurse said, ‘Please take a seat in the relatives’ room. The doctor will come and tell you what’s happening as soon as she’s had a chance to assess your son’s injuries.’
Loveday crashed back into her body with a jolt and sat down, but she couldn’t stay seated for long. ‘I must do something or go mad. Shall I find a cup of tea?’
‘I don’t want anything,’ said Mickey, his head in his hands.
‘I’ll go,’ said the policewoman.
‘No,’ Loveday insisted. ‘I need to do something.’
She left the room, desperate to move around, burn the awful energy flooding her body.
*
In the corridor she met a woman in blue scrubs who asked, ‘Mrs Chandler?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m looking after Hal. I’m Dr Sutton.’
‘Can I see him?’
‘He’s not looking very good.’
‘I want to see him.’
The doctor thought for a moment then relented. ‘OK. Just for a few minutes. He’s not conscious. He’s lost a lot of blood.’
‘I just want to see him.’
*
Jesse banged the door of the relatives’ room open, making Mickey and the constable jump. ‘Mick. How is he?’
‘We’re just waiting for the doctor,’ Mickey said in a quiet, shocked voice. ‘Loveday’s gone to get tea.’ He looked at the clock on the wall. ‘She’s been gone ages …’
‘Where’s Hal?’ Jesse’s anguished voice was completely at odds with Mickey’s.
‘With the doctor.’
‘How is he?’
‘We’re waiting …’
‘He lost a lot of blood.’ Jesse was agitated. ‘He’ll need a transfusion.’
‘Yes. I expect so.’
‘I want you to know, Mickey, that I am going to give him my blood.’
‘That’s kind of you, but if they don’t have enough at the hospital, he’ll need some from a relative, won’t he? Me or Loveday? Or the girls? Where are the girls?’
‘With Greer and Freddie at home.’
‘Oh, good.’
‘But,’ Jesse tried to be gentle, ‘I might have the right blood.’
‘Yes,’ Mickey said kindly. ‘It might be you. It might be me. It might be lots of people in this hospital, so I’m sure we’ll get some.’
The doctor came in. ‘Mr Chandler?’ She looked from one man to the other. ‘Yes,’ said Mickey. ‘I’m Hal’s dad. How is he?’
‘He’s lost a lot of blood and we’re going to start transfusing him before he goes to theatre.’
Jesse leapt to his feet. ‘I’ll be a donor.’
The doctor looked surprised. ‘Are you a relative?’
‘I’m his—’
Mickey stepped in. ‘He’s his godfather.’
The doctor had experience of dealing with shocked and confused relatives, so she smiled and carried on. ‘We’re always grateful for donors, but there’s no need in this instance. Mrs Chandler has offered and she’s a perfect match.’