‘If you’ll be taking the second pair of oars, Master Benjamin. Juan, stand by the sail!’
The boat rounded the point, and immediately a gentler coastline opened up before them. A colony of shags watched the boat uneasily as it slipped past their skerry, then one by one the birds shambled into flight, or flopped into the sea to emerge yards away.
Now they could see the long green back of the land. The light tower wasn’t built on the very highest point: a little rocky knoll rose before it, but the fifteen-foot tower out-topped the summit. A line of low cliffs ran, parallel to the shore, from the highest point of the island down to the northern promontory. Below the cliffs green turf sloped to the sea. They saw the line of a turf-covered dyke above first a small sandy beach, and then a bigger one. A rowing boat lay on the beach. ‘That’s good enough, they’ll be getting her pulled up right now,’ said Finn. ‘The two of them, just – they couldn’t always be managing it. But there’s the boy now. That’ll be helping.’ Finn Watterson glanced up and looked Archie straight in the eye for the first time. ‘The boy’s been brought up to it, sir. His Granddad it was, was the first keeper. The family’s been brought up to it, is what I’m wanting to say. Everyone wouldn’t be wanting that life, but they’ve been brought up to it, you see. All of them.’
Abruptly Finn shifted his gaze as they passed the beach. ‘Ready, boy. Now!’ The sail came down in a series of jerks. Ben and Juan unshipped the oars. ‘Keep her going as she is.’ Finn was standing at the tiller, scanning the rocks. ‘That’s the landing place, you see? All right, we’ll be taking a look.’
White water was breaking on the rocks at the entrance to a narrow giau. The water in the inlet looked smooth and green, but there were sharp waves breaking on the shingle. The yawl rocked in the swell where the sea began to funnel in. The oars dipped. ‘As she is! Keep her as she is. Let’s be taking a look … Ay, we’ll be getting in all right … it’s whether we’ll be getting out again …’
Archie stopped himself biting his knuckles. No point worrying, or willing them to go in. It was Finn’s decision, and Archie’s job to abide by it. It might be days before they got so near again. Finn was looking out to sea again, testing the wind.
‘Right, we’re going in! Soon as we’re alongside, you two get ashore. I’ll be offloading the things – fast! All right! Hard a-starboard! Master Ben, take the painter. Juan, don’t be shipping your oars. We’ll need to be rowing out fast. All right, Master Buchanan: you’re seeing that black rock up above there? And the streak of white across the cliff below it? We’re lining ’em up, right? Ready then! Now!’
Seaweed-covered rocks guarded the dark giau. Shags nested on the rocky sides; they jabbed the air menacingly as the yawl slid in on the top of a wave. The tide was at its lowest, and the rocks were thick with seaweed. Between the fronds there were patches of barnacles and baby mussels where boots could get a grip. A yard to go – Ben stood ready on the gunwale. He glanced up, and saw three figures above him on the rock, silhouetted black shapes with the sun behind them. All female – the solid outlines of their dresses made them look as if they’d grown out of the shadowed rocks – but each one a different size. Just for a second they seemed tall and menacing, dark shadows between him and the sun.
The next wave rose. Ben threw the painter ashore, and the tallest woman caught it and tied it to a rusty iron ring in the rock. The boat fell back and rose again. Ben leapt ashore with the next wave. Then Archie jumped too, and landed on the rock beside him.
CHAPTER 11
THROUGH THE CLOSED SHUTTERS THE SUN MADE STRIPED patterns against the bedroom wall. Between the shutter and the glass a trapped bee buzzed and buzzed against the pane. The wind murmured in the chimney, rustling the dried-out rushes in the grate. Mally’s truckle bed was made, the flowered coverlet pulled up over the pillow. The floor had been swept, the rag rug freshly shaken. Lucy’s print gown and petticoat lay across the rocking chair, where the cat had made itself a comfortable nest out of them, and curled up on top. The framed text above the bed was embroidered in blue and white, with a border of forget-me-nots in matching threads: This is the day which the Lord hath made. We rejoice and be glad in it (Psalm 118:24)
Lucy lay sprawled across the bed in her nightgown, half-covered by the sheet. She wore no nightcap, and she’d thrown off the blanket. She was sound asleep, having gone to bed as usual after noonday dinner, and no dreams had come to trouble her.
There was no time to think; they had to help. As Finn and Juan swung the cargo across, the two strangers Finn had brought with him caught each piece and heaved it up the rock. Automatically Diya, Breesha and Mally grabbed the bundles as they were dumped on the seaweed and carried them over the slippery rocks. And what extraordinary gear it was: a long wooden box, a roll of chain, a stack of poles roped together, a heavy wooden box with a lid. ‘Take care with that one!’ the big fellow called as Breesha and Diya lifted the box between them. A portmanteau came up, and a canvas haversack. Mally picked up a black leather case. It was heavy, but she managed to heave it up onto the grass. Then came a sack of meal: that was more normal. And last of all: ‘It’s the piglings!’ screamed Mally, the strangers momentarily forgotten. ‘Finn, you’ve brought the piglings!’
‘I have that, Mally, I have that!’
The crate with the piglets was heavy. Finn and Juan got it onto the gunwale. The next wave rose. Archie and Ben grabbed it by its rope and swung it across. On the slippery weed they managed to get their hands under the crate, and together they manhandled it up to dry rock. The piglets squealed furiously, and scrabbled about so the weight kept shifting. The woman was going to try to take the crate from them, but Archie brushed her off. ‘S’all right. This one’s heavy.’ There were shouts from below. Archie and Ben shoved the crate up the last awkward step and dumped it on the grass.
When they looked round the Betsey was already halfway out of the giau. Two pairs of oars were working furiously against wind and tide. The yawl was barely moving. It was going to be a damn close thing. Archie straightened up, brushing his coat sleeves, as he willed the boat to get off: Finn had done the job and got them ashore – he deserved not to be stuck here. They hadn’t had time to discuss the likelihood of him getting back to collect them on Monday or Tuesday. Well, Finn knew what they wanted, and he’d come back when he could. Anyway, he still had another two shillings to collect. And there were so many more things to ask him …
The Betsey fought the swell at the mouth of the giau, hung in the balance, and came up into the wind. A minute later she hoisted her sail and headed off on the port tack. ‘That’s it,’ said Ben. ‘They’ll make it now. They’ll get round the island while it’s slack water, and beat back with the flood on the windward side.’
Once the boat was under way Diya reluctantly turned inland. The two intruders were on the grass just above them, staring out to sea. They’d still be able to see the Betsey from up there. A moment later the boat must have vanished from their sight, because now the men were looking down at them.
Breesha pulled urgently at her mother’s sleeve. ‘Shall I go and wake Lucy?’ she whispered.
‘Yes, go now. Quickly! And Breesha … put the broth back over the fire, so it’ll be hot.’
‘We’re not going to give them anything?’
‘Indeed we are, Breesha veen. You must always be civil to the stranger at your door. You know that!’
‘But not these …’ Breesha remembered she wasn’t supposed to know who they were. Better warn Mally not to give anything away either. But Mally, now that the flurry of activity was over, was clinging close to Mam, clutching a corner of Diya’s old gardening pinafore, thumb in mouth, like a great baby. Mally had clung to Mam like that once before, when they’d gone ashore at Port St Mary last year and Mally had been so upset by the strange people. She’d kept saying, ‘Who’s that, who’s that?’ and Mam had kept